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Fortunately or unfortunately, a fight didn’t break out. Ellen took her group and left quietly, slipping away silently. Ludwig, who seemed lost in thought, followed her.
“The timing couldn’t be worse,” Rowen remarked, prompting a chuckle from Olivia.
“We’re convinced we’re cursed like that. We always get caught in situations where we really don’t want to be seen. It’s just our luck.”
“Haha, maybe every moment is one in which we really don’t want to be seen,” Rowen replied.
“That might be true,” Olivia agreed.
Olivia sat cross-legged on the table in the blood-stained conference room, arms folded, as she watched Rowen clean up the mess.
She was carefully tidying up the scattered pieces of flesh, using a prayer of purification, a rag, and a broom.
“If you’re going to clean up so thoroughly, why make such a mess to begin with?” Olivia asked.
“People like them should not be granted an easy death. I wanted them to suffer,” Rowen replied.
“And how do you think someone like you will meet their end?” Olivia wondered aloud.
“I’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Rowen said.
“You seem to be living a charmed life,” Olivia observed.
“Everyone deserves at least that,” Rowen replied.
Neither Rowen, who was smiling as she cleaned up the aftermath, nor Olivia, who was watching her without lifting a finger, could be considered sane.
“What do you think happened with Illeion Volten?” Rowen inquired.
“Whether he returns or not, we’ve taken precautions,” Olivia replied confidently.
“That’s a relief,” Rowen said with a nod.
They were ready for any outcome, whether Illeion Volten made it back to the Allied Forces or not. The idea of him safely returning to the base and leading...
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