“Who dares?!” 

The Martial King was furious. Although Agares and Fenrir had caused a ruckus, he didn’t mind it too much. The One-horned tribe was a mischievous group where the tribe members joked about their king’s commands anyway, so the trouble caused by the two was within the realm of “acceptable.”

No, inwardly, the Martial King had even welcomed it. He believed a festival was better the louder it was. But of course, his daughter seemed to be displeased. 

However, the moment the officiator, Laplace, was attacked, it started to get on his nerves. There was a certain line that shouldn’t be crossed. On this happy day, there should’ve been no screams of horror or violence…!

The Martial King slapped his armrest and burst up. He lifted his sleeves, dashing toward the cause of all this, Odin, when something suddenly came at him from his blind spot. It was Denebola, the right hand of the lion constellation, Leo. 

“…How dare you?!” The Martial King crumpled his face and turned toward Denebola with the blade of his hand. He was also brimming with confidence about himself. He believed even Allforone...