The tournament preparations started at dawn, and by the morning, it was already a sea of people. But Macaro, being a good friend of Bali, quickly found him in the crowd. The Count of Violet, also from Lantoniyan, was dressed meticulously in a purple coat with silver trimming, befitting his status. He had three Silver Leaf pins on his cuff, representing his rank. He wasn't wearing a hat, but was holding a goblet, standing alone at the highest point of the newly built wooden grandstand, catching the cold breeze.
Bali saw his friend approaching, raised his goblet, and smiled: "A glass of 57 Tordo Wine. I know you don't like wine."
"In fact, I don't like any wine." Macaro replied irritably.
"I know, alcohol affects your judgment, doesn't matter to me though." The Count of Violet shrugged his shoulders.
"Did you receive the news from Tonyger?" Macaro didn't want to dwell on the topic.
"Are you talking about the joke about how old dogs still have a few teeth?" Bali asked lightly.
