After reporting to Vaelrix and Renard, Zerath left the tent, leaving the two commanders alone.
The tent flap fell back into place, cutting off the outside noise. For a moment, only silence remained inside.
Renard leaned back slightly in his chair and began tapping his fingers against the wooden table.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound echoed softly in the dim tent.
Vaelrix watched him for a few seconds before finally breaking the silence.
"Should we talk about the important topic now?" he asked.
Renard stopped tapping. He let out a slow breath and rubbed his face with one hand.
"Hah… I really don't want to," he said honestly. "It feels like we're jumping straight toward death."
Vaelrix gave a dry smile. "Yeah. I understand that feeling." His expression turned serious. "Still, I can't understand why His Majesty is asking us to do this."
Renard nodded. "Same. This task…" He paused. "It's something demons have failed at countless times in the past."
