Michael once again arrived at the Heroic Spirit Hall, once again transforming into a steward to enter Fafnir's residence.
He saw Fafnir practicing swordplay in the courtyard, her strikes filled with anger.
It must be said, compared to other City Beauties who have decent main professions besides being a Mage, Fafnir's abilities seem a bit lacking, perhaps she can only pick up the family profession, but ultimately, she could never truly reach a Warrior's level.
Michael knew better than to interrupt at this time, so he just quietly waited for her to finish venting.
Finally, Fafnir sheathed her sword and let out a long breath.
Michael timely served a towel and a cold drink.
Fafnir sighed, "Bring me an iced brandy instead."
Michael casually swapped the drink, "Miss, you've been drinking quite a lot tonight."
Fafnir sighed, "I just visited the new talent in Bronze Jail here in our city. I didn't want to go, and in hindsight, I shouldn't have gone."
