After Lucen was declared the new champion, Faust approached him and asked in a calm, respectful tone, "Would you mind speaking with me for a moment?"
"Of course not," Lucen replied quickly. This was the scenario he was expecting, what he wanted to happen. "Just give me a second. I need to get my companions."
He turned and jogged off into the crowd, weaving past dazed onlookers until he spotted the familiar trio standing together.
Sir Thalos looked like a proud uncle who was desperately trying not to tear up. Mark gave him a small nod, subtle but filled with meaning. And then there was Harlik, his arms bulging as he carried two overstuffed sacks of coin, the jingle of gold louder than his footsteps.
Lucen couldn't help but chuckle as Harlik now looked like one of those cartoon robbers he watched when he was a kid in his past life.
