All Spirit In Black Clover Novels & Stories

The man of portly presence swilled from a bottle of straight rye whiskey he carried. Jynilyn McGhee scowled at him, the sheen of her ebon skin iridescent in the dying sunlight. “Language,” she said. “Must you always have a bottle in your fist?” Mr. Lavender pulled a face. Crowe gazed knowingly at Katelyn, hands clasped behind him and black feathers caught in his hair, his sheathed blades hanging from his belt.