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"A toll measured not in coin or gold, but in the currency of one's efforts and blood."

Priel leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as the door creaked open. "Now, isn't that ironic," he mused, watching the figure step into his dimly lit office.

The man before him was none other than Orion, the famed champion of the Silver Arena—the very individual Aedeos had demanded action against mere moments ago. Priel had found himself in many unexpected situations before, but this one was particularly amusing.

Orion, however, was less than pleased. He had come here seeking discretion, intent on gathering the information he required and leaving without drawing unnecessary attention. Yet, he realized now that his inquiry had ensured the opposite. He had been told to speak with someone named Casus, a highest ranking member of the intelligence network, the spymaster of the Dark Continental himslef.

'So much to maintain low profile!' Orion sighed as he observed the spymaster.