Ariel Morris's heart pounded fiercely as she asked with a trace of anxiety and fear, "Arlo Seys---what's wrong with you?" As soon as she finished speaking, she looked up, only to be shocked by the sight in front of her, her face turning a shade paler.
Arlo Seys held her protectively in his arms, tightly shielding her with his chest, forming a defensive wall for her. His raised left hand caught a thick stick, which was swung by one of the thugs Arlo had just knocked down.
Arlo Seys's face turned unusually pale, his brows slightly furrowed, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead.
"Arlo Seys---!!"
