Orion stood watch at the southern gate, having sent Elder Slate of the giants and Elder Vespera of the succubi to patrol the eastern and western mountains. Now, only four guards and Lysinthia remained by his side.
He gazed into the distant darkness, noting that the scent of blood in the air had faded significantly.
"Those three tribesmen you chose—how are they doing?" Orion asked suddenly, his question catching Lysinthia off guard.
"Master, are you asking me?" Lysinthia looked up, her beautiful face showing a hint of confusion.
"Yes, I remember Elder Rendall gave you three slots to choose from," Orion replied. "Did you not make your selections?"
Lysinthia shook her head, then nodded, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and conflict. "I saved three of my tribesmen, but they hate me. They curse me."
"I don't understand why. I saved them, so why do they hate me?"
