"What a grim sight."
"Mergo…"
With one hand resting on the hilt of his hidden blade .. Aether, Gavid Lindman glanced sideways at the staggering old drunk who arrived late.
The old man greeted his peer with a faint smile, barely visible through the wild hair covering most of his face.
"Lord Lindman, as diligent as ever… I take it you were part of the battle?"
"I only delivered the final blow. Barely made it in time."
"That's still impressive."
Mergo praised him, though Gavid's scowl only deepened.
"A shame, really. I would've been here sooner if I had your spatial manipulation skills."
"You're right. It's a pity you don't—ha ha!!."
Mergo laughed, ignoring the deliberate jab.
He could've joined the battle from the start with his teleportation, and had he done so, they might have subdued the Pontiff much faster ... without the cost.
But he chose not to.
"Astaroth won't be pleased with this outcome."
"He can think what he likes. Just as you do."
