A night had passed, and Lancelot and his companions were once again disappointed. Numerous uninvited guests had entered over the past eight hours, but not the Dark Elf they were waiting for. When sunlight also burst through the window, everyone knew they had waited in vain through the night.
"Something isn't right," Acheron paced back and forth anxiously in the room, "This has never happened before..."
"What's the normal procedure?" the Elf Priest beside him attempted to soothe his anxious compatriot.
"He usually responds the same night, or at the latest, the following night."
"Aside from you, how many others know of his existence?" Lancelot asked in a grave tone.
"Many are aware of his existence, what's the matter?" Acheron asked in return, puzzled, "Are you suggesting..."
"Is there a possibility that there's a traitor in the Melanton family who has betrayed this spy's situation?"
