The Real War Part I

“YAAAAWN!”

The sound of yawning came as a tall man walked down from the second floor of the magic warrior office. His glossy black hair was now messy, and he looked exactly like someone who had just got out of bed.

He was in a thin white tank top. His shoulder was not covered in bandages anymore, so it was obvious that the wound he got from the battle was completely healed now. Those amber eyes then looked at a large old-fashioned clock in a corner of the guest room.

The hands were pointing to 9.20 a.m.

Seeing that, Wisana let out a soft sigh.

“Purple head William probably has been to the frontline by now.”

He did not sound like he cared about it that much as he spoke. After that, the tall man brought himself to the porch by the water, expecting to get some morning fresh air in his lungs. However, he had to raise his eyebrows and let out a throaty laugh instead.

“What? The battle starts at 10 a.m., doesn't it? Why have all of you just started moving this late?”