A Gnoll with white fur entered Orazen’s palace.

The Gnoll was old, but there were traces on his body showing that he had been a warrior in the past. There was a deep scar above his left eye, a sheath naturally hanging by his side, and he maintained a well-built physique.

Behind this old Gnoll were younger Gnolls who followed his orders.

A left minister then came running toward this Gnoll and said, “Duke Fashian, I apologize, but you cannot enter with a weapon.”

“Even though it took me tens of days to get here, and I came with not even a handful of escorts?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I guess I have no choice but to take it off. Though I’m not sure if someone who calls themself an emperor should be afraid of an old Gnoll like me.”

The left minister didn’t know how to reply and had a sour expression on his face.

Fashian unfastened the sheath around his waist and handed it to the left minister with a smirk.

“I have every reason to be afraid.”

Fashian turned around when the voice came from a distance. And before anything else, those stationed at the palace recognized the voice and bowed. The one who had just spoken was Kyle Lakrak Orazen, the emperor of the Black Scale...