Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End Chapter 429.1: How Things Have Changed (1)

On the evening prairie, a black-haired man came eye to eye with a golden-haired man. Murderous vibes could be felt from them. 

This was a rare opportunity for Bryan to eliminate the successor of the Ascart House, but his face remained grave. He could still remember how Roel changed the prophecy several years back, and that served as a reminder to him not to let his guard down. 

Not to mention, his many years of experience of battling the Ascart House told him not to underestimate any of them, not even a fourteen-year-old boy. 

Bryan knew from the instincts he had sharpened over centuries that this was a battle that would determine the trajectory of fate. Roel shared the same thought as well.

“You’re here, Count Bryan. It’s been a long time. I see that you don’t plan to conceal your identity any longer,” said Roel calmly as he eyed the evil cultists accompanying Bryan.

“…”

Bryan remained completely silent, not showing the slightest expression or gesture at all. 

He had come without donning any concealment, be it his appearance and aura. There was no need for that since this operation was practically an all-in gamble. 

Should he win the fight here, both Roel and Nora would lose their lives. There would be no eye-witnesses to indict him of his crime. On the other hand, if he lost the fight, he would lose his life as well. Either way, there was no need for him to conceal his identity anymore.

Roel’s question was one that needed no answer.

Bryan was rather surprised by Roel’s composure. He noticed that there was no hatred or anger in Roel’s eyes despite him coming face to face with a man who was here to take his life. On the contrary, there was an air of sorrowful desolation shrouding him. 

“Time sure can be malevolent. A revered high scholar despaired at the unrelenting flow of time and fell into depravity. A proud and loyal knight lost himself to the erosion of time. Even history is reduced to distorted tales, buried under dust. Yet, hatred transcends time and persists even after centuries.

“What should have been held steadfast d

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