In the sterile quiet of the infirmary, three figures with flowing blue hair lingered beside him, their expressions a mix of contrition and unease. Among them was Wills Lindell, the man Baines had bested to claim his current position. The air was thick with unspoken tension.
"Why are you here?" Baines asked, his voice flat.
Quintelle stepped forward, her tone smooth but calculated. "We came to apologize for our past actions," she said, nudging her brothers subtly.
Diphus scratched the back of his head, his sincerity evident despite his awkward delivery. "I-I'm sorry for shaming you," he mumbled, his eyes darting to the floor.
Wills, however, offered only a curt nod, his pride barely allowing even that small gesture. "Sorry," he muttered, the word clipped, as if forced from him. Maybe the reason he was even nodding was because Baines had entered the grandmaster before he, "I hope we can work together in the future."
