"You must absolutely come back from the Orcs. With or without their support. I don't have to tell you, but I will, about how important you are," Drevix said. His voice was bitter, as if he had lost a fight that he didn't even know he was fighting.
Vacuse stared at him and then at the open window, and he frowned. He felt as if something was wrong somehow, but he didn't know what.
Vacuse knew Drenvar, both by reputation and personally in his past life. What he was doing wasn't adding up, almost as if he was shrinking himself somehow.
'... trying to make himself weak before me... why? What is this bastard planning once again?...'
Drenvar continued. "The Orcs will want your head, but you must remember that you are Alejo, a guest. They won't go against their own culture, but they'd find loopholes. Be very honest. The Dragon must not die."
'...you don't have to tell me that... I'm the last person that's going to try and die....'
