"The Sect Elders have been asking me why I'm bending over backwards for someone from outside the Sect. They're confused over whether they should kick you out for your insolence or prostrate in front of you in fear," Jace jabbed as he approached a seated Krish.
The recipient, the man seated atop a stone bench with a cross-legged posture and his walking stick resting on his lap, responded without turning. "So, what did you tell them?"
"I played the 'I'm dying, let this be my last wish' card and they acquiesced," Jace said with a snicker.
"You really are squeezing it for all it's worth, huh?"
"Better than sulking over it, anyways. So, why did you ask me to clear up the largest sparring field in our Sect for your Disciple?" Jace redirected. "Do you realise just how much whining I have to subject myself to? This entire Sect is filled with battle maniacs, and you've just asked me to deprive them of an outlet for their 'creativity'!"
