In his room, Cyril came back to himself while gazing wistfully at his reflection in the full-length mirror. He had the feeling that Klein had been in a hurry to toss him out just now.
"Was the violent reaction from the Gray Fog earlier because of my status?"
"Muttering to himself, he looked at his reflection standing ramrod straight in the mirror and belatedly realized... Klein hadn't even asked him to sit down. He'd been standing and talking to Klein the whole time.
Had he forgotten his manners because he was so shocked?
Cyril pursed his lips in discontent and turned to leave the room.
One thing had followed another, and it was already completely dark outside. He still hadn't had time to prepare dinner.
The next morning, after breakfast, Cyril went out again and headed to Harvest Cathedral.
This time, he wasn't greeted by a mop that hadn't been wrung out. Instead, a broom sent dust billowing into the air.
Cyril turned sideways and snapped his fingers. A strong gust suddenly swept through the hall, blowing all the dust out onto the street beyond the cathedral.
The "Gust" trick!
After clearing the dust from the air, he looked at the listless Emlyn in front of him and asked curiously,
"Did you stay up all night?"
"No, wait. You Sanguine are nocturnal, so did you end up doing all the work in the cathedral by yourself and get worked to the bone?"
"We're called the Sanguine!" Emlyn glared at him impassively. "Besides, I just haven't had any fresh blood in a long time."
Cyril folded his arms and clicked his tongue. "So they've been skimping on your meals."
"Want me to buy you some blood bags from the hospital?"
"You'd do something that nice?" Emlyn gave him a suspicious