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‘Well, we can’t just sit here all day,’ said Hector. ‘Should I go talk to them or not?’

‘Mgh. No. Not yet. This is too strange. My gut tells me this must be related to what happened with Ibai, somehow.’

‘The same gut that you don’t physically have, you mean?’

‘That is a very corporealist thing to say, and I resent you for it.’

‘Sorry.’ Hector began annihilating his iron, but Garovel interjected.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Er... plate armor isn’t exactly ideal for stealth. In fact, I’m a little surprised they haven’t noticed me already.’

‘I’d rather you left it on, at least until we know more about what’s going on here.’

‘But--I can’t--I mean, it’ll make me noisy... and just... super weird.’

‘If anyone spots you, you can pretend to be a statue.’

‘...No, Garovel. That’s dumb.’

‘C’mon, it’d be like a game.’

‘Look, I’ll still have the shield. Just conceal yourself behind that. It’s probably the safest place for you, anyway.’

‘Ugh, fine.’

Hector finished destroying his metal and felt Garovel shifting over to his arm, which was still both gloved and gauntleted.

‘For the record, though, my idea was NOT dumb. You’re dumb.’

‘Duly noted,’ said Hector.


Chapter One Hundred Eighteen: ‘O, radiant Star...!’
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It had been ages since Parson Miles last visited Jesbol. The capital city of Corpei looked nothing like he remembered. It was all cloud-grazing towers now, making the mountains they stood upon seem almost like an afterthought. Parson remembered when this place was little more than a hamlet, snuggled up to a lone salt mine and barely scraping by because of it.

He wondered if Jackson remembered that as well.