"I can tell your reluctance isn't because you want to fight Mic Nor," Sir Verren said, his gaze sharp. "From what you've just said, it can only be because of the competition itself. Is there something among the prizes you're after?"
His words struck deep.
Renn hesitated, silently impressed by the old man's perception.
He had seen right through him.
It was exactly as Verren said.
Renn wasn't shaken because someone stronger than him existed—Michael didn't intimidate him for that reason.
What bothered him was that someone stronger than him was here… in this competition.
This wasn't about testing his limits or challenging himself.
He was here for the viscount title.
The money? The whispers of wealth promised to the winner? He didn't care.
The Duke's daughter? Marrying her might bring some benefits to his family. That was how little importance she held in his heart.
The viscount title stood above everything else.
It was the only thing that truly mattered to him.
