Then there was Yorick and his men, looking lost. They saw the interaction, and they could hardly even smile at it. They were strangers here still. It was likely not the place that they wished to die.
Those were the men that Oliver needed to keep alive. Seeing them, he felt that resolve renewed tenfold. He felt his powerlessness, as he needed to exist within several frameworks of authority, but he also reminded himself of his dull throbbing confidence. The likes of forty-four victories were not the sort of momentum that could be defeated with ease.
"Shall we go, my Lord? I imagine we have some thinking to do," Verdant asked.
"Yeah," Oliver replied, unaware that Lord Karstly's gaze was pinned so thoroughly to his back as he went.
…
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