C646 Charles Azeman

In the middle of the plains, the black-haired youth looked at his ancestor with confusion. He didn't know what Astrid's words meant, so Roya had no choice but to look at Antonio. He found that the academy head was in a very sorry state.

He did not know where the round glasses that he usually liked to wear were, and his robe was covered in dust. He had used too much of the staff in his hand