The shower was brief but refreshing, steam rolling from the small bath chamber as Damien stepped back into the room twelve minutes later fully dressed.
Apnoch was already waiting, arms folded like a sentry, patience stretched thin but intact.
"Lead the way, Captain," Damien said casually, slipping his sword across his back. "Let's not keep your general waiting."
The walk through Delwig's military quarter was brisk. Soldiers hurried past in organized ranks, messengers darted through corridors carrying rolled parchments, and the ever-present clang of weapons against training dummies filled the air.
Despite the city's apparent safety, a tension hung over it—an unspoken readiness that felt heavier than yesterday. Maybe because of what he'd experienced the previous night with Lyone but he saw Delwig slightly differently now.
Apnoch pushed open the double doors of the command hall, and the low murmur of discussion cut off instantly.
