Just then, a man suddenly appeared, thrusting the spear tip against Noan's face.
He was a middle-aged man with a square-jawed face, his unkempt moustache and beard having grown wild for lack of grooming.
His eyes brimmed with suspicion and anger as he stared at Noan, ready to drive the spear through his skull at the slightest provocation.
Seeing this, Monica was so frightened she felt tears welling up. She shouted urgently, "Baron, what the hell are you doing?"
Baron heard his name called beside Noan and turned toward Monica.
When he saw her, he started in surprise. "Monica? You…"
"He's our guest—lower your weapon at once!" Monica cried, panic in her voice.
She knew Noan's temperament—and his strength. She understood full well that Baron's actions might provoke Noan's wrath.
If Noan grew angry, the consequences would be terrible—perhaps everyone here would die. She could not allow that, so she tried desperately to stop Baron.
