Adrian nodded, and a minute later, the guard returned.

"Mr. Quintin invites you in."

Adrian entered the tent alone. After more than a month, he finally saw Quintin. However, he couldn't help but sign upon seeing the latter. When he heard that Quintin hadn't been taking any audiences, he knew that the situation was bad. As the commander of the army, one could imagine the situation Quintin was in if he didn't want to see his subordinates.

The vigorous and domineering middle-aged man was no more, replaced by an old man with a hunched figure and gray hair. The yellow robe he wore was now oversized. Sitting in his seat, he struggled to straighten himself up, his somewhat cloudy eyes scrutinizing Adrian carefully.

"You've been gone for over a month…" Quintin said in a deep voice. It was the voice of an old man, quite different from Quintin's original one. But Adrian knew that this was indeed Quintin. He was simply exhausted and was at the end of his life.

Adrian bowed slightly and said,