It was late at night when Mwana returned to the inn. He had spent a full day in the library going through countless books. Even at the end, he was still not satisfied and borrowed some books to take back with him.
Entering the inn, the first thing that entered Mwana's eyes was a portrait.
"No matter how many times I see it, I am always amazed."
This portrait was shocking in every way. Just looking at it, one would feel as if their mind was sucked into it – the mark of an expert painter.
As for the person who occupied this painting, he was even more shocking. The man had the visage of a legendary hero; an ancient great hero from the Jemedari tribe.
His eyes seemed to encompass the world gazing into the future from eons in the past. Not only was his face striking, his black dragon armor enhanced the ethereal violence evident in the man's aura – the aura of a conqueror and a liberator folded into one.
