Chapter 847 Who Is It, Really?
- The waitress lunged, a gleaming dagger in her hand, aiming straight for them.
- If this were Braygua, they’d be carrying hot weapons without blinking. Here, they couldn’t get any in, so they went for a blade. Messy, but lethal.
- The dagger hummed with a faint pulse of energy. No doubt—just a brush from that force would slice skin open.