"Whatever the case may be, we can't stay relaxed now that things had come to this."
Sighing, Barnil could tell that the dire circumstances at hand were inevitable. He raised his hand to tidy the collar of his robes, after which the old mage who had always been well-groomed drew out a thick gilded black tome. It was an elegantly decorated grimoire that left Barnil's hand as soon as it was taken out, floating before his chest and flipping open as if alive and browsed through itself rapidly.
"An Abyssal Lord and a deity's clone. William, how many years has it been since we last met such a dangerous situation?"
