Zakar sat beside the unconscious lady, his gaze fixed on the faint rise and fall of her chest. Behind them, the debris of the bodies of the men had long since been consumed by his dark flames, leaving nothing but bloodstains etched into the floor. He frowned at the mess, still pondering how best to cleanse it, though the thought gnawed at him more than it should.
The spot he had chosen was hidden well tucked behind the refectory, veiled in shadows. For extra measure, he had wrapped the area in his Stealth skill, smothering it like a dome of darkness. But even that had limits. He could not remain cloaked forever.
Sooner or later, Myia would start looking for him. And worse, the lady's own team would come searching probably like a pack of hounds, sniffing every corner until they found her.
