The Astarte of the B

Old Ma was gentle, and not strong. But he was also starving, and had only been learning to ride for a week.,"Let's stop for a moment, we can't just kill him like this. Murder itself leaves traces, doesn't it",Retracting his gaze, Lan En mounted the horse with a light and silent grace. Perhaps even the world's finest riders couldn't match him in their control over a steed.。