Satisfied with Sparky's planning, Yvonne faded from the discussion as she returned her attention to her meal. She did catch the room number, finishing the food quickly and feeling the familiar tingle of alcohol in her fingertips. Yeah, that's some nice and strong stuff right there. Definitely would recommend.

Upstairs, the mercenary found herself in a double room with presumably Sparky inside the bath. Not really feeling like waiting, she simply strip the armor and gambeson layer and leave them on the available hanger while her weapons went on a bedside table save for the rondel dagger. Now that she felt much lighter without all that weight, Yvonne stretched before collecting a bathrobe and a towel and descended back down to the communal bath.

It's completely empty. There didn't seems to be any other guests beside their little party, so she's got the whole place for herself. Nice.

Letting herself relax, Yvonne sighed wearily as she cleansed herself of the grit accumulated through the day. She sported more than a few scars than a woman her age normally have, various deep cuts that left pale lines once they healed. Minor injuries hardly leave a mark somehow, otherwise she'd have way more than these. But even then there's still a significant number lining her body, though none were anywhere near recent. It's an undeniable indication that she's gotten better over time, if nothing else.

Stretching once more, Yvonne set to work on cleansing her hair. It's the only source of vanity she kept despite the risk, braided and bunned out of the way. It now spread across the water like soggy seaweed, just combing it into an acceptable will take so much time. Then there's the actual washing and whatnot...

About an hour later, a tired Yvonne barely registered the unoccupied bed before falling on it like a log. She's out cold almost immediately.

[NPC Post]

The constable didn't like Henri very much. It's unthinkable for someone with unclear background to be tasked with tutoring a member of the royal family, yet Fredricus was strangely adamant about it. And beyond that, the man himself unnerved him for a reason he couldn't quite put his hands on. He felt human, but only slightly bit off the mark. It's like... something that pretended very well to be a man. But it's not one.

"No need. State your business." Delving eyes the stacks of sodden trunks with distate before staring back at Henri, his brows scrunched even further at the inquiry. "I am unaware that this issue have anything to do with the imperial tutor. I will need a good reason to disclose an... ongoing investigation with you, Ser Henri."

Henri slapped the desk. This guy, seriously... "Tch. Obviously I'm not here as an imperial tutor, if the one I aim to teach has been missing for a week." He side-eye glared at this blond oaf. "I'm here under the direct employ of His Highness to investigate the kidnapping of the Young Master and the attempt on His Highness' life." No, he's only entasked to bring back the Young Master, but if he were to guess what excuse Jazdia's team gave the guards, it'd probably be somewhere along these lines, or at least the part about investigating just the assassination attempt.

"Those three probably said the same thing, right? No, it makes complete sense that you didn't believe them, since Matilda wasn't there." He leaned back from his chair, holding the whiskey bottle upside-down, balanced on merely his right index finger. He notices Aaron's expression change with the mention of Matilda. Hmm. So it's like that, huh? "But then, she must've seen ahead of time and handed them the Royal Seal... Hm." He lazily pointed a left-hand finger at Aaron. "Did that Yvonne Rosenving injure your knights because you chose to ignore even His Highness' Royal Seal? You let your petty disdain towards Matilda impede His Highness' business?"

The lights in the room dim, and Henri's eyes glow a hot orange. At the walls of the room too, the animals whose heads adorn the walls as a trophy, their eyes too shone orange, and began emitting smoke.

The lengths he has to go through just to get a prissy noble to talk. This Aaron's been eyeing Henri cautiously ever since he went in. If he were to guess, it's this same unnerving feeling everyone gets when they meet him, when the subconscious just screams that Henri's not human. He noticed it from Jazdia too.
If it's to speed up this farce, then Henri shall reinforce Aaron's fear.

**Elsewhere, near the tower**

Cedar thanked the crows, then collected himself and his tools, before heading back out over the marsh back toward the lake. The horses were still milling about, nibbling on grass, and being generally ornery about his approaching them. They still did not appreciate his being half bear, despite fully knowing he was not going to eat them. If they had been humans, he would have considered bigotry, but as it was, he knew it was just nature forcing its way to the top. It was a good, natural, and reasonable instinct to have, given how his mom would have handled this.

He chuckled to himself. The idea of his mom deciding that she had had enough of their bullshit, and just eating one of them to make the point, brought a smile to the corners of his face. Despite the wry humor of the situation, it was still an annoyance, as he herded them back toward the tower and into the "stable", where he unsaddled and brushed them down-- wide-eyes and snorts be damned.

Some of them had saddle and strap galds from having their gear on for too long. Absently, he used the modest healing magic he knew to correct it, as he did the brushing. They still distrusted him, but slowly the nags started getting the hint more clearly.

He was climbing up the stairs with a saddle over each shoulder, (the first of several planned trips) when a small grey and black bird noisly landed in front of him and started cooing, walking back and forth, blocking his path.

"What'ya want, lil bird? Ya in the way!"

It just continued moving back and forth on the stair, blocking his ingress, cooing at him.

Irritably, he put down the saddles on the stairs, then crouched down to look at the silly thing more clearly. There was a tiny capsule on its leg, which it was earnestly trying to make conspicuous with its repeated movements on the stair.

A sudden spark of cognition hit him, and he realized it was a messenger pigeon. Carefully, he teased the extremely tiny capsule open and extracted the thin, light bit of folded paper inside.

Reading was not his strong suit-- he had quite a bit of difficulty with it at times. His dad told him it was not really that important, except when dealing with dishonest merchants, tax collectors, auditors, and other "official" humans-- For the most part, if he could muddle through reading the signs outside shops to know what they sold, it was likely good enough, and better than a lot of peasants could do.

He squinted at the tiny text...

--------
Madame Matilda,
It pains me to inform you that I cannot regroup with your party at Hdur at the scheduled time. We had a situation with the city Constable, and the uncooperativeness he and his men displayed cost us valuable hours. Fortunately, we managed to secure crucial information regarding His Highness' assassination plan, and it involved a local group with extensive knowledge of the city's underground tunnels. We will work on this clue and see if we can regroup with you tomorrow.

PS: the pigeon is trained to not leave your side immediately in case you wanted to reply to this letter. If you wished to do so, the password to send him home will be márnanwen, meldë
--------

He looked down at the bird, which looked up at him expectantly, before fluttering its wings. He sighed, nodded at the bird, then picked up the saddles again. The pigeon fluttered up and landed on his shoulder, continuing to coo expectantly at him.

'The things humans trained animals to do', he thought to himself.

He would give the note to its intended recipient, Miss Matilda. HOPEFULLY she was done with, and had dispatched, that shuffling horror Solomon had conjured.

---

Hdur. The elf woman, Jazdia, had already made plans for them to regroup in Hdur. What a strange coincidence. However, given the town’s reputation, perhaps not all that strange. Solomon stood listening to the words coming from the newly awoken corpse. He called himself Birk, and he was a hunter of sorts. Whether he was a part of the group of assassins had yet to be determined though. He knew where they holed up in, but did not see the prince. Solomon looked towards Matilda and then back at Birk. Something might have gone lost in translation.

“You say you hunt in the royal grounds in secret. Were you at the royal forest five days ago? Were you a part of a plot involving the royal prince? Tell us of what you might have seen that day.”

Kaito listened quietly as Jazdia put him in his place. She was right, whatever happens he would manage. For the fox it was easy to slip away and lay low. Not many bridges to burn, maybe just one. The others had more to lose, or so he assumed.

“Alright, storming through the front door and kicking ass it is!” Spoke Kaito as the elf was done with addressing his concerns.

He watched quietly as the others retreated to get some rest. At the eve of battle the kitsune always felt a bit too restless to sleep. It was not that he necessarily felt afraid or doubted his own skills. It was more that he just didn’t like combat. The fox simply did not get any enjoyment out of the act.

Kaito ordered a bottle of hot sake, kicked the seat back a bit and placed his feet on the neatly cleaned table. In that pose he waited for the others to come back

[NPC Post]

Delving's disdain only grew at the way his "guest" behaved, much closer to a common thug than an imperial tutor. Peasants. They were all lacking from the very get go, regardless how much polishing was done. Give them an inch and they let it get into their filthy heads.

Then Henri dropped the bombshell that the prince's actually gone and gotten himself kidnapped. That's not something the constable would've expected, though in hindsight it made sense why Matilda wasn't present at the scene earlier. Still, Aaron regained his composure and leaned back on his seat. There's no confirmation yet. He regretted not reading the elf's order earlier on, but only a bit - the authenticity itself was suspect if they had to weasel their way in like that.

Of course, the short moment was filled with the lowborn continuing to prattle as if he's Fredricus himself. To him, a Delving. Not even the king would disrespect him to his face like this. Aaron's temper flared, and the accusation and obviously magical phenomenon only pushed it over the top as wrath superseded any hint of fear and sense.

"You dare come and threaten me in my own office?! Know your place, worm!" Aaron stood, his chair shoved behind him as his hand reached for his sword. His bellow was loud enough to somewhat shake the mounted animal heads as hurried footsteps rapidly approached from multiple directions. "Men! Arrest this renegade at once!"

[GM Post]

"Five days..?" For the first time, the zombie-corpse showed sign of confusion. It faded quick enough though, as the dead hunter decided on an answer. "No. Preparing at home." It absentmindedly reached for its pocket, glancing and squinting down with confusion to find it turned inside-out. One berry still stuck on the fabric. Birk the zombie jerkily took it and popped it into its mouth. "No. No prince." The rotten berry summarily slipped out and splattered on the ground. The zombie continued chewing at nothing.

"Roof leaky. Need fixing soon. Bread and egg breakfast. Food low. Few coins. Trees browning. Winter close. Checked trap. With Reinhold. Three r-r-rabbits. Trail muddy. Some fence rotting. A few goats grazing. Old barn. Even older Gerhard. His wrinkle. Trade in. Farm. Flour and eggs and milk. Some sausage. Saw Hilda. Her tits very nice. And the hips. She smiled at us." A staggering, uneven smile crept on the zombie's visage. "Chickens. Rotting fence. Muddy trail. Two huts. Roof leaking. Bertolf and I-I-Ingmar. Not happy. No catch. Into h-h-hut. Map. The royal forest. We see path. We see mark. Where d-d-deer goes. Reinhold and Bertolf argue. Ingmar quiet. Take coins. Back out. Muddy trail-"

There seemed to be a lot more to be said, if one were patient enough to hear of the hunter's entire day.

@A5G @wierdw

The orc was looking quite frustrated by the lack of clues that could lead to saving the prince. “They may have gone to Hdur, but perhaps Hdur has no relation to the kidnappers. But it is best we search there. Perhaps Jazdia’s group has found something useful.” Impatiently waiting for the others to finish questioning the corpse. Matilda could not help but want to get some straight answers out of the corpse. But realistically it looked like there were not that many avenues to explore in the fortress.

While the others were questioning the corpse, she noticed Cedar coming back with a pigeon on his shoulder and a note in his hand. Reading the note she felt both frustration and some relief. She was glad that Jazdia’s group was able to find some information on the assassins. Feeling a bit of shame that her group was not able to find anything of use. They will have to gather what information they could gather here, and then meet with the others. If they got there earlier than the other group, then they could idle around the city for the time being. But she hoped they would reach the city at the exact same time.

“Anderson, I need a quill and ink. Do you or any of your men have anything I can use to respond to this message.” She interrupted his interrogation of the corpse. Stepping a little closer towards him.

[NPC Post]

"What did it say if I may ask, Ma'am?" Anderson glanced at the message with curiosity, before alternating to Cedrick and the pigeon. There's other group, it seemed. Likely the one that included Miss Rosenving. It's a good thing that not all avenue of investigation was stymied, at least. Coordinating with the younger Delving so far had been nothing but a collosal waste of time. "Will this suffice?"

From an inner pocket the squire produced a leatherbound notebook, flipping to an empty page before carefully tearing it out. There's no quill or ink, but he did carry a pencil.

Henri leaned at his chair and shrugged. "Now, now. Don't just spout typical villain lines. I didn't threaten you with anything." He then glanced at the guards. "Gentlemen. There's been a change in command, you all now work under me." This is a lie. "Kneel." Their armors begin to grow heavy, pulling them towards the ground and truly forcing them to kneel. "You too, Aaron." The Delving's chair shoves itself forward, slamming on Aaron's knees and making him sit. Henri then flicks Aaron's sword downward at the same time, taking advantage of the imbalance in his stance, to disarm him.

What a mess. Is this how the Delving deals with opposition? Someone like him shouldn't have been a noble to begin with... Unless there's someone backing him. Henri squinted.

"I suppose you weren't fully at fault if you chose to ignore the Seal... Hmm. With how steadfast your guards were," case in point, Henri's own interaction with them minutes ago, "they must have tried to lie to get into the mausoleum, did they not? Everyone just wants to take the easiest path." He shrugged, again.
"So am I. Thus, tell me where they are, Aaron. I'm not against your side, you know? For the sin of injuring royal guards, I'll be dealing with them myself."

[NPC Post]

"Aaron? What's going on here?"

Aaron's expression had went through a shade of rage, fear, and hummiliation within the span of a few seconds before his gaze locked at someone by the door, all his emotion immediately doused by joy. It was a curt yet modulated tone of someone well used to commanding others. Even when off duty Admiral Silas Delving's debonair charisma was apparent, with a charming smile and flowing golden locks to complete his princely outlook. His steps confident unlike most sailors that walked with the expectation of the floor buckling under their feet. This was the true champion of House Delving, and he entered with a hint of concern and alarm as he took in the sight.

"Brother! This renegade attack me!"

The Admiral merely raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing the supposed renegade not unlike an eagle looking down on a rabbit.

"Ser Henri, if I'm not mistaken? Cease your assault on my brother and his men, would you kindly?"

That was not a request.

@A5G

Matilda took the pencil and notebook from Anderson, jotting down a quick note before ripping the piece of paper. The contents of the note if looked at, would be summed up as what clues Matilda’s group found. And that they would be heading to Hdur. Handing the letter to Cedar once he was finished speaking with the corpse, “Give this message to that bird, and tell it márnanwen, meldë.” She hoped that the message would be able to be successfully delivered to Jazdia.

“And where the hell is Sir Henri? I thought he was with Cedar?” She turned to speak with Anderson. She worried that he had gotten himself into serious trouble exploring the fortress. Or had run into some unsavoury characters.

[NPC Post]

"I'm pretty sure he said he's checking the submerged part a while ago." Anderson reiterated, brows scrunched. "I believe he wont overestimate himself and get drowned, but I'll take a look." With one last glance at the zombie still sputtering endlessly, the squire headed downstairs...

...and he came back a minute later, looking very troubled as he held a bottle of whiskey with faded label and a small metal plate on the other hand.

"It said here that he found some cases of hard liquor down there. He left to offload it and join Jazdia's group." Anderson passed the metal plate etched with Henri's message to the knight. "Who is this Jazdia? Did he have any way to contact her?"

Admiral Silas Delving... Publicly known as one of the strongest man in the kingdom, and equally skilled in command. Apparently, Aaron's brother too? They've only met once or twice, so it completely crossed his mind. Did he coast off of his brother's fame to get to his position? It'd fully explain his behaviour too. Well, that's just his guess, though.

The telekinetic hold on Aaron's guards wavers. "They weren't in any bodily harm to begin with, but I'm not submitting to an unjust arrest." He stands up with a slight bow. "Henri greets the Master Admiral."

He shrugged, for possibly the third time already. "I just wanted to know where my companions went. I didn't want to leverage the fact that Ser Aaron ignored His Highness' Royal Seal." Even with his eyes closed, he could expect a change in Silas' expression. It's that much of a grave offence.

"You must have heard it too, right? The incident at the mausoleum earlier. Those were His Highness' people employed to investigate the attempt on His life, you know? The Young Master's kidnapping as well. Whiskey?" Henri offers the whiskey bottle in his hand.

[NPC Post]

The admiral kept his eye on the guards, who slowly rose back to their feet with clear uncertainty on how to proceed from there. On one hand, their direct superior hadn't retracted the earlier order. On the other hand, well, this was clearly above their pay grade.

"Well met, Royal Tutor; Clear the room, all of you."

Technically an admiral have no jurisdiction over the constabulary, but in practice it's as if the footmen couldn't wait to obey as they filed out of the room with springs in their steps. Momentarily there's only the three of them left in the room, receding footsteps slowly fading in the background.

"That is an unusual request, Ser Henri. And a grave accusation." The elder Delving smiled pleasantly in contrast to what he's saying, stepping to the side of the desk where he began tapping on the hardwood as his glance switch between his brother and the royal tutor. "What says you, Aaron?"

"There were some... unsavory elements that deceived the guards to enter the hallowed mausoleum." He withered a bit under the gaze of Silas. "Only after confronted and cornered that they brought up the royal seal. Otherwise I would've arrested the whole lot."

He looked like he had been forced to eat a sour lemon.

"I was occupied with my duty at the admiralty for most of the day, such news take time to permeate that far." Silas accepted the bottle, raising an eyebrow at the shape and the label. "Huh, I didn't know you like our product, Ser Henri." He popped the waxed cork, perusing Aaron's liquor cabinet for three shot glass before pouring for them. At a glance the content was perfectly equal. "The prince is missing, you say? You do know realize that we cannot stay silent about this matter, yes?"

Henri surmised correctly... What a relief, and it looks like Aaron will have to expect a scolding from Silas, quite soon.

'Our product'?
This is whiskey from the Delvings' distillery? Especially with it being apparently eighty years of age, what a coincidence.
Ah... Silas poured him a glass before he could say anything. Well. If this furthers their relationship, then he has no reason to correct it.
Then, he was greeted with the question. He answered briefly after he poured the shot of whiskey in his mouth. It tasted of nothing, as with anything he would ever ingest. "I plead that you would, for His Highness' sake. There is good reason to believe that both these acts intend to spark a war. It wouldn't be good to panic the people." It seemed quite like common sense. The way that talking bear innocently pleaded with Fred too, it rings in his mind.
The rumours will begin on their own anyway, as Young Master's absence grows of note. Henri saying all of this now will only slightly hurry the inevitable.
These next few lines, coordinated with A5G.
As if it's a complete afterthought, Silas turned to Aaron again.

"Say, you haven't given Ser Henri any answers. Do you know where his companions went?"

"I do not. I have some men looking, but it takes time and they could be anywhere in the city at the moment." It's hard to correlate the sputtering and angry Aaron earlier to the almost meekly obedient one right here, but there he sat like a little duckling. <<
The answer disappointed Henri, quite. Not that Aaron was either petty or vindictive for sending out men, that much was expected, but the incompetency of it all.

Just across the door, a horse speeded past. What caught Henri's attention however was what the horse carried. He momentarily glimpsed with his metal-sense a spectre clad in oriental armor, with a long curved sword on his hip. How odd. It's not who he thought it was, right?
More importantly, the last rays of this day's sun were dimming beneath the door. He steadily stood up as he spoke. "Ah. It seems I've taken far too much of your time. Thank you for indulging me. Master Admiral." Their hands meet in the middle, shaken. Henri's hands in particular have always adorned these pure black leather gloves... so as to mask the material with which his body is made of.
What a radiance this Silas emitted from just this handshake. To a point that it physically irritated his core. Holy magic? It'd be best for Henri not to get close to him.
"Constable." Aaron hesitated to shake hands for only a half-second, before Silas' gaze fell on him.

"I'll take my leave now." He holds his arms out and the chests full of whiskey and vodka bottles jumped up to him like his own babies, and he promptly left the room.

"Uh think she's 'at elf girl--" muttered Cedar. "Dont look like human talk on the letter there at da end-- Purdy writin though. Bettern mine nohow..."

He accepted the letter, then fumbled terribly trying to fold it up tiny enough to put into the impossibly small capsule on the bird's dainty foot. He had to remove his glove, and use the filed down nub of his claws to do the delicate work, and they lacked any kind of grip. After a comical display, he finally succeeded though, then headed back outside, leaving the pair of saddles on the floor, with the pommel down, and the trees facing outward.

He returned some time later with another pair of saddles, and no bird, repeating the process twice more, before seating himself near the sudden influx of leatherwork and equestrian equipment, before getting out his twine and knife, along with the leatherworking kit, and setting to work on fixing the straps, cleaning the leather, and general maintenance of the kit, while doing his best to ignore the zombie in the room.

And the stench.

4:20 A.M.
Angel's Share Inn, Rascade City Plaza, Kingdom of Kindeance.

Jazdia had awakened on the last third of the night and was ready to start the day after brewing some tea for herself. She found a blueberry tart on the counter and thought that would be sufficient for breakfast. Walked back to the second floor, the elf headed to the open terrace and sat there.

A shadow jumped from the roof, then bowed before her. "Mission accomplished." the oriental man said.

She could see it, or rather, smell it. The air was chilly yet blended with a faint smell of burnt sugar. The day was still dark but three yellow brightenings could be seen on the horizon, and some people had already wide awake; running on the street with cursings and concerned utterances.

"Very well. Muster everyone, we will depart in half hour."



Exactly 30 minutes later, the group returned to the street. Located four blocks away from Angel's Share, the Black Serpent headquarters was located between East Market and upper-class residential area, with the main access through a rather large alleyway with a huge wooden gate blocking the way. The place was deserted as expected, but the group remained vigilant as they approached it.

Nobody knocked or breached the door yet, but they heard angry yellings from the inside. There was a peeping window on the gate, and on the interior's side, someone was guarding it. A very fat bald man with a mustache. Their courtyard was populated by ten or so members, armed like militias and briefed by a very pissed, red-skinned sergeant.

Jazdia instructed Kaito, and the fox responded by donning his illusionary mask, impersonating one of the guild members he remembered. The peeping windows opened, a man peered, and with unconcealed disdain, he barked. "You again?! I thought the order was clear! Weren't you supposed to be with Anton's group?"

"Yoo fatso! Anton sent me. I Aint coming back if ain't got something to report. Very important, it's about the attack. Where is the sergeant?"

"You can tell me first."

"Here? Naw! The guards could be anywhere, mang! Let me in and I will fill you in."

With the sound of a disengaged latch bar, The unsuspected fatso opened the gate. The group sprung in, weapons drawn. Amidst the confusion, Jazdia was taken aback, there were quite a number of people directly in front of her. Should she flaunt a warrant and proclaim their right to remain silent? To stay their hand lest be incriminated for obstructing the enforcement of the law?

The fatso slumped after Yvonne bludgeoned his abdomen. Snapping Jazdia out of that. "Hey, Sparky! What's the matter?"

Nothing, except the fact that she was an agent of law no more. The only difference between her and these thugs was she had the King's blessing and her personal sense of justice. The thing was, both were equally finicky to gauge for righteousness's sake.
But Jazdia knew one thing, no matter the circumstances, if someone tried to kill her, she would gladly return the sentiment. So when the thugs formed a rank and had their arbalest prepared, the elf fired her explosive arrow in preemptive retaliation, blasting four thugs and injuring several others.

The explosion shattered the glass windows behind them, causing additional damage and concussing the surviving enemies, Now was the chance for Chounan and Yvvone to safely rush forward. They still had seven enemies standing. Three on the left and four on the right including the sergeant. Few were rabid and impatient, while some reluctantly welcomed the fight.

An angry howl from the sergeant somehow inspired... or terrorized them. "What are you doing? They are just four! Kill the men, get the bitches!"

Three thugs armed with blackjacks and some other improvised blunt weapons made a beeline for Yvonne. While on the Chounan's side, the sergeant led the charge, followed by two others. The only surviving crossbowman could be seen reloading his weapon and due to the courtyard being poorly lit, seemed undecided on who to shoot first.

The moment the fatso let them in, a violent brawl broke out in the courtyard. Yvonne was macing people in the abdomen and the elf was shooting her explosive arrow right in the middle of a group of thugs. It was clear that blood would flow tonight, however that does not mean that Kaito would be the one to draw it when it wasn’t necessary.

The fox quickly assessed the situation. Three thugs were coming for Yvonne and 3 others were making their way towards Chounan. The Kitsune was confident that those two could hold their own against a bunch of thugs. They worked under Jazdia afterall.

The elf had dealt with most thugs that were armed with crossbows. Some of them looked pretty dead while others were injured. However one was left standing and trying frantically to reload. Kaito didn’t feel like getting shot at so he blew on his fingers and shouted “Get him, Fenrir!”

An illusionary grey direwolf came rushing through the door, avoiding the other combattants and charged the thug who accidently released his crossbow bolt from sheer shock and surprise to only hit the wall. The wolf quickly cornered the now terrified thug while Kaito shouted “You don’t have to die in a place like this, you know? If you throw your weapons over the wall now, my buddy Fenrir here won’t bite your face off. But if you don’t comply or try to fight, you will end up as a wolf snack. And that is a nasty way to meet your end”

The illusionary wolf showed his teeth and growled loudly as he positioned himself to attack. Quickly the thug threw away his weapons and raised his hands in the air while crying “Please don’t let that beast bite me. I surrender, I surrender!!”

“Smart choice there buddy.” Smiled Kaito as he made his way towards the thug while avoiding his comrades who seemed to be too preoccupied with fighting Chounan and Yvonne to notice him. Not to mention that there also was still an elf with a bow pointing at them.

“Good boy”Spoke Kaito softly as he patted his illusionary wolf on the back. “No nom nom unless he moves, got it?”

Kaito looked at the man in front of him who was pale and shaking from anxiety. He truly believed that there was a big, mean looking wolf in front of him that would bite him in the face when he would make a sudden move. Looking at the poor sod, Kitsune decided that he might be useful. Maybe he has some intel on how much people were actually inside or the whereabouts of Gerald. The fox infused his words with his charming magic “Honestly, I’m not much of a fan of all this violence. Why don’t we sit this one out pal? Just us living to see another day. Sounds good, right?”