Seated on the comfortable sofa, Adam tucked his fingers around his chin pensively.
"Chaotic unpredictability," he muttered.
Was he to distort his fighting style into something without meaning or form to defeat the golem?
He shook his head.
"The protocols." He tapped his cheek, frown deepening. "Use spells in manners they hadn't accounted for, then blast the golem's armor open with Qi. Easy, really, considering it'll likely update its protocols after each failure." He rose from the sofa, stretching his neck with a groan. "Well, eleven days to figure out as many methods as possible."
Grinning, he went to his room to fetch Quintella and Bao for lunch. Yet the desk—where his sister's quill would slice letters into parchment like a conqueror claiming territory—sat vacant.
He squinted at the stairs leading to the girl's floor before shaking his head. Too risky to check her room with the threat of Isolde's curses.
