"You can't argue with that logic," Dona shrugged. "At least, he isn't afraid of insects."
"Strangle yourself, wench," Damian spat before glancing at Ramsen, inquiring, "Did that stir come from our targets?"
Ramsen nodded. "It seems they've encountered that Vermin Sorcerer, but I sensed no battle. I've just confirmed our agreement with Rodolf's team. Our plans won't change."
"Why are we attacking them exactly?" Damian rose to his feet, helping himself with a strange stave. It was bronze-made, with a carved plate at its top displaying a woman's sleeping face. "Don't we already have enough orbs to succeed in this phase?"
"Two reasons. First of them is that not all of us have orbs of our initially-bestowed element. Our targets are great in number, but they haven't chosen to move at all, meaning they possess everything they need—a potentially bountiful reap."
