Etien blinked a few times, finding himself asleep in the room while the fireplace, powered by enchanted stones made from the hide of a Furuite monster from the icy Exolate mountains in the heart of Winterbraun—still burned steadily, keeping him warm.
He glanced toward the window. The sky was a little darker than when he had been talking to Bastian earlier before drifting off.
It was probably around five or six in the evening by now, which meant the servants should have already prepared dinner. But as soon as he swung his feet over the edge of the couch, his thoughts immediately wandered to the words he had uttered before leaving the Western territories, about his plan to head to the port city, Urioil.
"Getting there ain't the hard part. But isn't that bastard still lurking over there?" he muttered, immediately regretting his own words.
