The young boy pleaded desperately.
Christina stood silently on the side, watching.
Dragged into the room, Andrew shoved him aside with force.
"Why did three squads of mercenaries come before and still fail to catch you?"
"Because... I don't come every night. Sometimes I oversleep..."
"Then why didn't you oversleep tonight?"
"Because... because I took an afternoon nap."
Well, sometimes things are just bizarre. It's not that the adversary is particularly strong; pure coincidence suffices.
Andrew casually muttered an incantation, and the boy's neck, along with his limbs, was quickly pinned to the floor by an invisible force. He lay flat, unable to move.
"You can't do this! You can't!" the boy struggled, shouting.
"Shut up. If you dare say one more word, I'll sew your mouth shut. Believe me—it doesn't take much magic power."
With that simple sentence, the boy, terrified, promptly clamped his mouth shut.
