"This is pretty bad," he said out loud, startling the duo, who had been frozen for quite a few moments already.
It was the first time he'd spoken in hours.
His voice cut through the deafening rain and the symphony of echoing roars as if they didn't exist, clearly reaching them.
Lady Emmet threw him a sharp gaze. "Oh, really? Does it seem like—"
Uriel sighed, cutting her off, dismissively waving a hand her way.
"I'm not sure this is the time for misplaced anger and needless jabs, lady. If we survive, you'll have all the time you want to admonish me for my sins."
He turned to Amon.
"What Magic types do your circles have? If you want me to help, I need to know."
Amon froze, his breath hitching and eyes widening. Seeing the young man's shock, Uriel couldn't help but inwardly roll his eyes.
Why was the man so hell-bent on acting weak?
