Glen''s words resounded like successive peals of thunder, utterly dispelling the mists enshrouding the old man''s mind.
Each of these suggestions was beyond his contemplation.
"I fancy that even the demons presiding over torture could scarcely rival your authority," the old man remarked with a malevolent grin.
Glen offered no retort. His gaze once more fell upon the female dark mage within the glass jar, who was enduring excruciating pain. "For the present, let this lady endure this subpar service. Once you''ve contrived something superior, we can then subject her to a more ''elevated'' form of torment."
Envisioning his foes undergoing the torments Glen had depicted, the old man''s body quivered uncontrollably with excitement.
Glen retrieved his pocket - watch, perused the time, and made his way towards the exit. As he reached the stairwell, he paused to glance back and enjoin,
"See to it that she does not expire. Otherwise, it would be a grave disappointment to my expectations."
"I''m loath to let that happen..." the old man replied in a hoarse voice.
...
Upon departing from the old man''s abode, Glen conveyed the still - unconscious commoners to the residence of Black Crow and his wife.
After elucidating the circumstances, Black Crow nodded and declared, "I can expunge their memories of today."
Initially, Glen had merely been making an attempt. He harbored doubts as to whether Black Crow or Legira possessed the ability to modify or efface the memories of others. Evidently, they did.
"Then I must impose upon you," Glen expressed with a grateful smile.
Black Crow remained silent. He merely raised his hands, assuming the posture of a musical conductor.
Ebony - hued, speck - like entities wafted from Black Crow''s palms, descending in a sparse shower upon the slumbering commoners.
They either furrowed their brows or emitted soft groans, as if ensnared in a nightmare.
After a couple of minutes, Black Crow lowered his hands and nodded to Glen, stating,
"It is accomplished. You may take them back."
"Thank you for your exertions."
Having spoken, Glen hesitated briefly. Meeting Black Crow''s inquisitive gaze, he continued,
"I chanced upon an individual in the town who purported to be of the White - Sheep Tribe. He struck me as rather peculiar. Are you acquainted with him?"
He was probing the waters. Should Black Crow evince a negative countenance, such as impatience, Glen intended to desist from further discussion. Conversely, he would facilitate an introduction.
However, Black Crow''s visage remained impassive as he replied methodically,
"I have sensed his surveillance within the town, yet I am unacquainted with him."
Glen scratched his head and persisted in his inquiry, "What are your sentiments regarding this race? Do you harbor any aversion towards them?"
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Black Crow shook his head. "I have had scant interaction with any individuals of this race. It is difficult to assert whether I dislike or like them."
"I see..." Glen stroked his chin. After a brief two - second pause, he continued, "Well, should this person desire to make your acquaintance, would you be amenable to meeting him?"
"That is contingent upon my wife''s decision. If she consents, so shall I," Black Crow responded without hesitation.
Listening to one''s wife is quite reasonable... Glen maintained his composure and opportunely inquired,
"Is Mrs. Legira presently asleep?"
Black Crow nodded.
Glen then stated forthrightly, "The White - Sheep tribesman in the town rendered me a service. He beseeched me to introduce him to you. Kindly convey this to Mrs. Legira upon her awakening. Assure her that she need not consider my involvement. It is quite acceptable if she declines to meet him."
Black Crow cast a glance in the direction beyond the town, then turned back and simply nodded in response.
"Very well, then. Farewell, Mr. Black Crow."
Glen refrained from further delay and departed in the deer - drawn carriage.
...
In the eastern expanse of the Zeen Kingdom lies Mark City, perpetually buffeted by sandstorms.
The denizens here are passionately enamored of equestrianism and archery. Even the principal city boasts an architectural style starkly distinct from that of other principal cities.
The people delight in adorning their abodes with the bones of formidable magical beasts, particularly the skulls.
Sangis was stricken with terror when several soldiers hauled her from the stage. She was merely a dancing maiden in a large tavern. The kingdom''s soldiers ought not to have targeted her.
The tavern proprietor approached the soldiers to remonstrate, yet a middle - aged man attired in the fashionable garb of the royal capital stepped forward and uttered a few words, whereupon the tavern proprietor immediately assumed an obsequious demeanor.
Sangis surmised that the middle - aged man must be a person of consequence. Otherwise, the tavern proprietor would not have exhibited such a countenance.
Ultimately, the middle - aged man approached the cowering Sangis and uttered indifferently, "Let us step outside for a moment."
Consequently, she was encircled by over a dozen soldiers and led out of the tavern.
Such a display instilled in her a profound sense of trepidation. She yearned to flee precipitously, yet her legs were too enfeebled to move.
She accompanied the middle - aged man to a large villa with few occupants.
The villa boasted a garden, and she was invited to be seated at an exquisitely arranged table.
The middle - aged man took a seat opposite her, while the soldiers dispersed to patrol the villa.
"Miss Sangis, it would seem that your recent circumstances... have not been overly propitious?"
The middle - aged man scrutinized Sangis for a moment before speaking in his composed voice.
Sangis was at a loss for words and remained silent.
Nonetheless, the man across from her evinced no sign of discontent and continued,
"Fear not. I shall not harm you, poor child. You have endured an inordinate amount of suffering that was not your due. But now, it is all at an end."
"What do you mean? And who, precisely, are you?" Sangis inquired, struggling to suppress her fear.
"As you can discern, I am an officer," the middle - aged man said, indicating the metal insignia upon his right breast.
Only then did Sangis notice such a conspicuous feature. She had been too consumed by fear to regard him more closely.
"Then, sir... why have you sought me out? I am but a... lowly..."
Before Sangis could complete her sentence, the middle - aged man interrupted sternly, "Pray, do not describe yourself with such terms, Miss Sangis. These are not fitting descriptors for you."
Sangis nodded meekly.
The middle - aged man sighed. "I am here as part of a mission, so I shall refrain from elaborating further. I have procured a commendable and respectable position for you in the principal city of Battersea. Additionally, there is a dwelling in Battersea, which has been allocated to your younger brother, Mr. Dylan. You may relocate there and reside with him for the time being."
Upon hearing these words, Sangis was rendered utterly speechless. She struggled to fathom the reasons behind such a sudden turn of events.
"Sir, why... I mean... this has all transpired so abruptly. I am somewhat..."
Sangis stammered, her face flushed.
"I understand. Any individual would be disconcerted in such a situation. But do not overthink it. This is the care extended to you by one of your kin."
Having spoken, the middle - aged man patiently awaited Sangis to absorb this information.
The latter desired to seek further clarification, yet the middle - aged man could divulge no more. He merely inquired whether she wished to avail herself of the carriage they had readied to proceed to the port.
She could discern that they would no longer permit her to engage in her previous occupation.
With a combination of willingness and a sense of having no alternative, she boarded the carriage bound for the port, departing from Mark''s principal city.