Soon.
Under the arrangement of the little princess, he met the "teacher."
It was a somewhat thin-looking middle-aged man.
He had meticulously combed hair, mixed with a few gray strands.
His face was weathered, but his clothes were clean and neat.
Those who didn't know him would think he was a butler from a top noble family.
The princess told him that this person was called Liszt.
He said with a somewhat insincere smile:
"You must be the disciple recommended by Her Highness the Princess."
Chloe nodded.
He wouldn't rashly think that he was naturally the strongest in the field.
In fact, after their initial attempt, both found the other's situation to be unusual.
Chloe lowered his head, looking at the bloodstains on his hands, and the expression in his eyes turned odd towards the "butler":
"Who are you?"
The blood wasn't his.
It was the other person's.
Of course, this wasn't because the opponent was weak.
Quite the opposite.
