Garrick looked at him sharply, searching his face. "You're not disappointed?"
"No," Damien replied honestly. "You chose your people."
That seemed to ease something in the older man's chest.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Garrick turned fully toward Damien and bowed his head—not deeply, but sincerely.
"You saved my life," he said. "Down there… I was done. If not for you, I'd be feeding whatever horror lives in those waters."
Damien waved it off lightly. "You were still fighting. I just gave you time."
Garrick snorted. "You dragged me out of the sea and killed a Grade Three demon while doing it." He shook his head. "That's more than 'time'."
Before Damien could respond, a familiar sensation brushed against his senses.
Something… pleased.
A ripple of mana surfaced near the ship.
Crew members tensed instinctively, hands moving toward weapons until a glossy, translucent shape rose over the railing and dropped onto the deck with an unmistakably satisfied plop.
Luton.
