As the team remained drinking in the happiness of the moment, several hours drifted by before Anthony finally rose to his feet, his posture calm and composed, as though the concept of drunkenness simply did not exist in his dictionary. His demeanor contrasted sharply with the others, who were still lost in laughter and clinking glasses, celebrating as though tomorrow would never come.
"Where are you headed?" Seraphim asked, her gaze settling on him as she saw him rise with quiet purpose.
"To meet the Warlords," Anthony replied, his voice calm and unhurried, carrying an almost serene undertone that contrasted with the festive atmosphere around him.
Seraphim nodded her head in understanding, saying nothing further. After all, she knew the Warlords had been waiting for Anthony for quite some time now. His presence was not something easily requested, and when they called for him, it was rarely without significance.
