Commander Markus sat behind his desk, head bowed, whispering a silent prayer to the stars. He didn't pray often, not since becoming a commander and Rank 8 warrior, but right now, he needed a miracle. The situation had spun out of control. Lancelot's reckless judgment had nearly cost the empire its most valuable asset. Even if Leon had survived unscathed, the lieutenant had still raised his blade against the one person with a real chance of cleansing the empire's rot. If the Emperor discovered what truly happened, not even divine intervention would save Lancelot.
Before Markus could gather the courage to speak, Leon finally broke the silence.
"There's no issue, Your grace" Leon said casually, tone light but steady. "The lieutenant was just… a little rough with me, that's all."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "Rough?" he repeated, his voice calm, but sharp enough to slice through the air.
