"Better not..." At Herpo's hypothesis, Calchas shuddered again.
"This new Guardian is already troublesome enough..." He swallowed hard and ultimately left the sentence unfinished.
He sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. His lips moved, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "Herpo, do we really still have a chance?"
"What chance?" Herpo's expression turned grave, with a trace of viciousness between his brows. "Are you questioning 'My Lord'?"
"Of course not!" Ignoring the agonizing pain radiating from his soul, Calchas shook his head repeatedly in vehement denial. "I would never question 'My Lord'!"
"'My Lord's' might is there for all to see. I'm just worried whether we... whether we can truly stand against the Guardians. Especially that new Guardian."
"You're only starting to consider that now?" Herpo's expression softened slightly, though a contemptuous sneer curled across his lips. "When you and Circe rebelled against me, why didn't you think of that?"
At the mention of that matter, Calchas's expression changed. His eyes filled with resentment as he looked at Herpo, and his lips began to tremble.
"How could that be the same?!" he snarled, but the force of his shout and movement made the pain in his soul flare up, drawing a sharp breath from him.
"Damn you, Herpo! You're a maggot not even worthy of a Flobber—" He endured the searing pain in his soul and cursed Herpo, "A maggot not even worthy of a Flobberworm!"
"You sacrificed Gregory in front of all of us! You damned... damned bastard! You turned on your own people! Do... do you understand?!"
"Then what about Morgana le Fay?" Herpo shot back, raising his brows high with a teasing note in his voice. "Wasn't she one of our own too?"
"I'd say... she was more useful than all of you combined! But