"You need to calm down. Knowing Lady Iryndra, she always returns before the twenty-four-hour mark. Undoubtedly, she's already getting bored of him."
Vincent spoke in a low tone, his voice calm yet firm, as he stood in the center of the arena. His gaze shifted to Arthur, who was biting his nails with unfocused eyes and a dark expression.
The underground colosseum was eerily silent, emptied out after Iryndra's unexpected arrival and swift departure with Azriel. The other subjects had been ordered back to their cells, leaving only Arthur, Vincent, and... that strange man.
The guardian.
He stood motionless in the arena, his eyes closed, his expression unreadable. Yet, the faint aura radiating from him told them everything they needed to know.
A Grandmaster.
It had been over nine hours since Iryndra and Azriel had vanished, and Arthur's patience was unraveling. He stopped biting his nails, narrowed his eyes at Vincent, and grumbled,
