Far away from where Soren and Cynthia were, a ridge overlooked the hunting grounds like a silent throne.
A group of students stood there.
Every single one of them wore the same haircut — a sharp, aggressive Mohawk that rose like a blade from their scalps.
The Mohawk Party.
At their center sat a young man.
Or rather, he lounged.
One unfortunate student was on all fours beneath him, serving as nothing more than a human seat while the others formed a loose semicircle around their leader.
The young man wore fingerless gloves that exposed long, pale fingers.
His jaw was straight and clean, his nose slightly pointed, giving his face a naturally sharp look.
A pair of black spectacles hid his eyes, but the faint smirk resting on his lips made it clear he was enjoying himself.
Praise poured toward him like a river.
"Boss Aegon is truly the smartest!"
