6 am.

  Jet Frost’s training room was very silent.

  It was because it was too early.

  And Jet Frost didn’t raise his sword unless he wanted to fight.

  At best, the butler Glenn would use it two to three times a week.

  But that wasn’t the case now.

  “Whoop!”


  “Hmph!”


  Swish!

  Swish!

  Maybe he couldn’t stand the stare.

  Jet sighed and drank the wine.

  And lowered his glass while raising his head.

  “Before the thing with Judith, let me tell you my story.”


  Everyone nodded at Jet Frost’s words.