Without any justification, ten magus towers were voluntarily demolished.
Bairon's eyes deepened with introspection.
The White Tower wasn't insane, nor were they weak; the only plausible explanation was — fear.
Something was compelling the White Tower to consolidate their dispersed power, to draw their forces back into a tight fist.
Suddenly, a thought struck Bairon, and he abruptly looked east, murmuring, "Can it be?"
"What can it be?" Barbara asked.
"Nothing, I have a habit of talking to myself," Bairon responded, forcing a smile onto his face.
Was it due to the tainted-beast?
It shouldn't be; if the White Tower feared the tainted-beast, they should have evacuated the port area, or even the entire populace of San Sorus, long ago.
Bairon felt a heaviness settling in his heart.
Old John's voice echoed in Bairon's mind, "The White Tower has the ability to deal with the imminent arrival of the tainted-beast."
