Phillip's boots crunched on the dried ground as he approached Christopher, his posture a careful blend of caution and authority.
The two Beasts turned their heads to the vice commander.
Phillip stopped a few paces away, his gaze fixed on Christopher.
"Who are you, exactly?" He asked, his voice steady, though a flicker of unease danced in his eyes.
"Christopher Valhalla," came the reply, delivered with a casualness that only heightened Phillip's suspicion.
Phillip's brow furrowed. 'Impossible.' He thought. 'There's no way the Valhalla family's elder son, the one whispered about as a useless scion, could possess this level of power. He must be impersonating.'
He let out a measured sigh. "You are powerful, that I'll grant you... But taking someone else's name and title isn't a wise course of action."
"Huh?" Christopher's response was a simple, almost dismissive sound.
Not only Christopher, but even Lazarus, was taken aback, its eyes widening slightly.
