Dest was an eyebeast, and one look at that kind of demon's body structure told you everything. One enormous eyeball—his gaze had to be especially sharp!
"Enough, stop trying to persuade me." Evenson turned to leave. "We'll go back first, build up our strength, and make plans later. The moment anything changes at the rift, we counterattack immediately."
His reaction was understandable. As far as Evenson knew, eyebeasts in the Burning Legion generally handled scouting and surveillance. They were practically the heads of intelligence. But this time, he was carrying out an infiltration operation, and Agatha, the undercover agent he had pinned his hopes on, had somehow forgotten to do the work of an intelligence chief. Now she had even brought the other side right to his face.
Put kindly, that was negligence and incompetence. Put less kindly, he would believe it if someone told him Agatha had already defected.
"Don't go, he's already here..." Agatha grabbed Evenson. "Going back and forth would be such a hassle. Let's get this done now. At least see what his attitude is."
"Then... fine." Evenson actually agreed after that persuasion. It was not because he was easily swayed. It was because Agatha, the three-meter-tall Doomguard Matriarch, had gotten anxious and used all six hands at once, gripping him tightly from shoulder to waist and lifting him straight off the ground. No matter how hard his two short little legs pedaled in midair, he could not take a single step forward.
"Matriarch Agatha, you dragged this old man here for this?" Dest suddenly spoke, his tone utterly casual, as though he did not care about the matter at all.
"Ah..." Evenson stopped struggling as though resigned to his fate and turned back curiously. Dest let out a soft sigh. The two tentacles beneath his