Maou tilted his head slightly at Maryel's response.
While what she said was all well and good, that was not exactly what he had meant. While it was true that a properly executed strategy could mean that a war can be won without casualties or bloodshed, sometimes strategy called for sacrifices; no matter how good a soldier was, in the strategist's war-book, he was naught but a pawn -- an important pawn perhaps, even an asset, given the right circumstances, but a pawn nonetheless. Of course, he also realized that both nobility and honesty were virtues, so long as one managed to stay alive with it.
But it seemed that fate decreed that her virtues be tested sooner than he anticipated, and far sooner than he had prepared for. However, he doubted that one would make it to the rank of 'head' of a guild without having lived through several such trials; as such, he was not concerned overmuch. Of course, this was also a chance to make his debut before his Lord, so it was certainly not one to be thrown away in vain either.
The thing in common about cocky people, was that they all tended to make him want to yawn. So his reply to the Elvaan's witty comment was an attempt at stifling a yawn.
The conversation between the two almost made it seem like this was well planned, but a glance around the room did not reveal the presence of any Ruby or Alfonso. Of course, he had been wondering for sometime as to why there was an Elvaan man amongst the otherwise Human staff of the Guild Hall, now it seemed he was was one of the accomplices whose names Maryel mentioned. Looking around also revealed several crates of what looked like cotton on one side of the room, and some barrels of oil; and of course there were chandeliers hanging overhead, not to mention the wooden chairs and tables. Given the right circumstances, the entire building was a bomb waiting to go off, provided that he triggered it in the right manner.
However, Maou was relatively certain that his prospective new Lord would not be receptive to that kind of strategy.
As alternatives, he was carrying his bow and quiver as always, and a hidden knife; the only other thing of note he had were a newly bought pack of cigars and a lighter. Given the various items spread around the room, all of those were quite useful equipment, and it was likely that a hybrid strategy of sorts could be used. Thus all that remained now was to prepare and await the opponent's next move and/or a command from Maryel. Of course, there was also the possibility that the Captain Luzel had never actually left in spite of Maryel's direct order to the contrary. After all, he wouldn't be much of a 'captain' if he were to leave his Lord alone to perish; but perhaps the customs of this land were different, he wouldn't know either way.
For the time being, the best way to prepare would be to light a cigar; quite simplistic he'd admit, and yet...
Maou coughed slightly and cleared his throat as both his hands entered his pockets.
"May I have permission to smoke a bit?" He asked, while attempting to stifle another yawn.