The Sandman

"I can't believe you did that!" Sylvester yell-whispered, in fear that the following group would hear his words.

Melchior could only chuckle at that.

"And what exactly did I do?"

"Y'know, what you did back there to my cousin–Halion," the blonde teen said, twirling his staff as well as steadying his grip on the reins of the Sand Crawlers.

They were not far from the city gates, but the difference between Esaron and the actual Illusory Sands was stark. Apart from the stone path carved towards the large towering gates and walls, there was nothing but golden sand everywhere.

"Are you upset that I intimidated your relatives?" Melchior asked, despite knowing the answer from Sylvester's behaviour.

"Upset? No no no, far from that," he shook his head, "If anything, I regret not being able to do that to them myself."

"Is it related to your father–the Marquis?" Melchior mentioned, not expecting a comprehensive answer.