Chapter Two Hundred One: 'The house of the hushed...'
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It was nice to be out on patrol. Hector hadn't had much time for it over the last few days. Between all the meetings, training, and maintenance around Warrenhold, he had started to wonder if he would ever be able to do this again.
Even now, he wasn't entirely on patrol. He was just sort of taking his sweet time as he went to look into something else. The fact that he was able to stop a burglary and a murder along the way was technically just a coincidence, though Hector had gone quite a bit out of his way to do so.
It was a bit annoying how every criminal just started running as soon as they saw him, but it also served as good practice for various mobility techniques that he'd wanted to try out. Flight, in particular.
Creating iron that could counteract gravity and support his weight was certainly doable, but exercising tight control over it was still rather difficult. And he was very hesitant about ramping up its speed in these situations. If he went too fast and accidentally barreled into someone while in full plate armor, that person would probably die.
When it came to dealing with normal human beings, he always tried to err on the side of caution, especially when practicing relatively new things. All of his really dangerous ideas, he intended to save for Zeff.
And possibly Asad.
The Najirs had left Warrenhold a few days ago now, but not without a promise to return soon. Hector got the impression that Asad's wife, Samira, had not found the underground castle to be a very pleasant place to stay. Whether that was because of all the Rainlords around or because all the construction going on was bothering her, Hector couldn't say.
Or maybe she just didn't like Warrenhold in general. It wasn't exactly a five-star resort.
Whatever it was, Hector tried not to take it personally. It was kinda hard, though. He hadn't been the Lord of Warrenhold for very long, all things considered, but he was already quite attached to it.
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