Chapter 80 Vaslof's Plan

• With his hands behind him, Warlord Vaslof walked the palace grounds. He hummed to himself, chuckling ominously from time to time due to the thoughts he had in his head. Soon he was going to begin executing his grand schemes, and it pleased him. He could not wait, but he knew he had to be patient. Out of nowhere, an arm fell on Vaslof's shoulder from behind him. Startled, he quickly turned his neck to see who it was. The Honourable Gifford. He wasn't very pleased by the rude manner in which he was pulled out of his thoughts. Also, it wasn't exciting to see Gifford yet again. He had had just enough of the council for a day. The warlord wore a smile, not letting his negative thoughts reflect on his face. He wondered just what Gifford wanted from him now.
• “Warlord! I've been screaming your name from a distance! You made me run so fast just to catch up with you! You know, I'm growing cranky and my joints are wearing off!” The Honourable Gifford complained as he panted heavily, sweat dropping off his forehead. Vaslof kept mute for a moment, not knowing what to say to the honorable. Surely, he wasn't about to begin apologizing for obliviously making the honorable run.
• “Well, I didn't hear you, perhaps because I was lost in reverie. So, if I may ask, what is it you need or wish to tell me?” Vaslof said as he continued his walk to his destination. The Honourable Gifford, who had finally caught his breath, followed behind him.