"Third grade?!" Adrian was startled upon hearing that, "Are you nuts? You got what you needed then let me go. I can't make a third-grade weapon." Adrian argued.
It was absurd to think that the man was demanding a third-grade armament that only a few runesmiths across the world could make.
Munrow sat there lazily, his hands brushing his beloved axe as he said, "I know one thing for sure that unless the Runesmith has a special talent, the fourth-ranked Vermillion wouldn't have approached you and saved you. So, there is no point in making it sound that you can't forge a third-grade armament."
Adrian's eyes narrowed, "So the person who tried framing me is you?"
"That's right. I was planning to have you sent to the interrogation cell and abduct you en route. But well, that plan failed because my partner in crime was incompetent."
Adrian's brows drew closer. He knew it. Moret was working with them and it was Munrow all along.
