"That darn fox has appeared!" Tidalia said sharply, her voice laced with frustration as she glared toward the fake fox. She stood atop a hill next to Arnin, far from where Nameless, Lady Pherna, and the fake fox faced off. The wind tugged at her hair as she turned toward Arnin.
"My lord, are we just going to watch? The essence has only just started flowing back into him. I don't think he should be fighting now," she continued, her tone tinged with concern.
Arnin remained stoic, his focus unshaken. Bringing his index and middle fingers of his right hand together, a small slip of paper materialized out of thin air. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the wind, the paper vanishing as it caught the breeze.
"It's too early for us to intervene," he said calmly, his voice carrying a quiet authority. "He's regained his memory. He is not the same Khailian we once knew. Let's observe him from a distance and see just how much he can do now."
