After performing a deep bow, Armstrong finally took his leave. From start to finish, he hadn't dared to meet the old man's gaze even once.dfgsd
On the surface, he seemed composed, the very image of a dutiful son. But his trembling fingers and the cold beads of sweat trailing down his temple betrayed the storm in his heart. To an outsider, it might have looked like the young master was simply ill. Yet those who knew better would understand—this was fear.
Only when he had descended a considerable distance from the central mountain did Armstrong allow himself to breathe. He let out a long sigh, drawing in fresh air as if it were freedom itself. Slowly, he lifted his head, his gaze turning toward the sky. Longing flickered in his eyes.
"I wonder… when will I ever reach the same realm as Father?"
