The expressions of Darke and the Iron Saint darkened. They glanced at each other before shaking their heads.
"No, my sovereign." Darke shook his head. "But we've been able to discover how it was achieved."
"How?"
Darke turned to the Iron Saint who nodded.
"Darkness creatures, sovereign. The people we arrested and kept in the catacombs all had their left arms missing, except the fourth pulse."
"We believe," Darke continued, "that this was planned. The destruction of Sylvastein. All of it, done so that they could get into the catacombs and retrieve their target."
"And we fell for it."
"Unfortunately, my sovereign."
The sovereign suddenly felt tired. So many events, so many enemies. So much chaos.
A day after the events of Sylvastein, the blood sovereign had ordered an immediate investigation on exactly what had occurred.
