“The problem is, I don't know what to do. At least give me some preparation,” Godfred lamented.
“Just ensure his safety. Follow his lead for everything else,” Lucan sighed, hoping Alavin was truly prepared.
Grima looked towards the closed room, “Trust him. Look at what he's done these past few days. It seems mad, but he's been preparing at every turn. Where others step once and look once, he steps once and looks thrice!”
Inside the room, Alavin packed his bags and reviewed their plans with the Chained Spirit.
This wasn't just about involving Cobalt Strike anymore; the king's court and other organizations could be drawn in. Any mishap, and he would bear the consequences.
“Is there anything else you haven't told me?” Alavin pressed the Chained Spirit.
“All I know I've shared. The rest we’ll uncover with careful investigation at Watchful Shore. Back then, I only got partway before that old Cobalt Strike cur had me in his sights.”
“Are you sure your mind is clear?” Alavin asked suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“Your soul is barely clinging on. Are your memories intact? Is there anything missing or overlooked?”
“Do you think I can't give you a piece of my mind?”
“Forget I asked.” Alavin shouldered his pack and was about to leave when Mariela suddenly entered.
Alavin, exasperated, “Can't you knock? What if I were bathing?”
“Where are you going?” Mariela eyed Alavin, dressed for travel, with a pack and two weapons crossed on his back, wrapped tightly in beast hide.
“Out hunting, to stretch my limbs.”
Mariela, her gaze clear and cold beneath her veil, said, “Do I look like a fool to you?”
Alavin couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time. "I'm going out to deal with those blind mercenaries. It's my responsibility. Don't get involved."
Mariela looked at him coldly. "You've forgotten something."
"What's that?"
"I live next to you, and the walls are thin."
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