The Seeds of Manipulation

Mikhailis exhaled deeply, stretching his arms above his head as he sank into the surprisingly comfortable chair in his private room. The wooden frame creaked slightly under his weight, the scent of aged wood and faint incense lingering in the air. The inn wasn't lavish, but it was leagues better than sleeping in the ruins of a devastated village or out in the open wilderness with only the stars and his Chimera Ant soldiers as company.

He rolled his shoulders, loosening the tension that had built up over the past few days. Travel had been grueling, and though Serewyn offered a brief respite, he knew better than to let his guard down. He reached toward the small table beside him, grabbing a wooden goblet of lukewarm ale and taking a sip. It wasn't the best, but it was far from the worst he'd had on this journey.

He let out a lazy chuckle, glancing toward the dim glow of his arcane communicator. "Guess we got caught. That was a very improvised but great plan executed there."