No Love from the Merfolk

He sat for a while, trying to calm himself down, especially the heart that had been pounding furiously since the beginning.

He was just a reclusive man who liked hiding away in the deep mountains and forests—why did they have to make him do this kind of thing? And not just any task, but one that went against what little conscience he had left.

It really made him miserable. Luckily, he hadn't spent too long with the golden-haired elf. Otherwise, the guilt gnawing at him would've driven him to do something irrational, possibly ruining the entire plan. At that point, it wouldn't be guilt drowning him—it would be the elf's fists.

Sage Miletus had no idea what Decem and Aelric were thinking. How could they come up with something so… so heart-wrenchingly troublesome?

Cursing the two elves inwardly, Sage Miletus took out the black notebook from his bracelet once again. He flipped it open to the very center, reading the contents of the page once more.