A sparsely populated bar on the outskirts of the capital Kronos.
Rare people of dubious origin came here for a drink or a snack. Most of them were bearded thugs or just drunks-who didn't care where they got their kicks. The dim lighting and strong smell of tobacco only made the place more unsavory.
No decent gentleman would come in here, and that was obvious. However, there were some not entirely unambiguous individuals.
In the middle of the stench and filth at the bar sat a young man. He was not quite sober either.
At first glance, to be honest, he looked more like a tramp. He had tangled blond hair, dirty clothes, an untidy face, and a lean build, as if he had been starving for weeks.
If people around him had known the truth, they would never have believed he was once the most powerful aristocrat in the empire. And now… he was left with almost nothing.
