"…How did you find their base so quickly?" the Elven Emperor asked calmly, though his golden eyes flicked back to the piles of bloodied corpses still cooling in the wind.
Aestrea let out a quiet breath, shaking his head slightly.
"They contacted me first," he said.
"A few days ago."
He looked off to the side, his tone calm but laced with a faint trace of annoyance.
"They claimed some goddess, obviously fake, told them I was mentioned in a prophecy. Said I was supposed to be their savior or whatever... the Dark Order even created a hologram of her to try and convince me..."
A small, cold smile tugged at the edge of his lips.
"In short... they wanted to use me. Manipulate me into helping them bring down your kingdom."
He shrugged, casual, almost bored.
"I figured I'd save you the trouble and bring you straight to them."
The Elven Emperor remained still, his brows furrowed as he processed Aestrea's words.
His lips parted slightly, as if to speak… but no words came out.
