Alex wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing finally steady. "We can't idle around here," he said firmly. "We need to find Alan. Earlier, I made a gap for him to slip away and look for help, but the other two assassins went after him. Only one of them came back… and you dealt with him."
Arthur glanced at the unconscious corpse beside them, his expression unreadable. "Calm down. I've fought Alan before. He's not weak. I'd say he can handle one assassin on his own."
Alex frowned. "You're just guessing."
Arthur shrugged. "Well, unless that assassin's a fourth-tier warrior, he should be fine. And even if he is—Alan's a member of the elven royal family. You think someone like that walks around without life-saving treasures?"
Alex scowled. "We can't take chances with our classmates' lives, Arthur. Those are just probabilities."
Arthur gave an exaggerated sigh, raising both hands. "Okay, okay. For your peace of mind, we'll go find your elf friend. Which direction did he run?"
