Max's eyes narrowed as he instantly recognized three figures at the front of the group.
Nathan. Arthur Gale. Tom.
And judging by the disdain etched on their faces, they weren't here for friendly conversation.
They had a purpose, a very bad one from the looks of it.
Nathan's sneer widened as he stepped forward, his voice carrying just enough volume to draw attention.
"Oh? I don't see the genius Max here?"
His words were casual, but the mockery beneath them was impossible to miss.
The moment Max's name was spoken, it was as if a chill had crept into the air.
Alice's shoulders tensed.
Anton's posture stiffened, his jaw clenching as a storm of unspoken emotions passed through his eyes.
Even Princess Aveline, who had been maintaining an air of politeness, let a faint frown crease her brow as she regarded the approaching group.
The weight of the name "Max" still held power.
It wasn't just a random topic—it was a wound, an unspoken taboo among the Phoenix Order Guild.
