Chapter 988 Are We Close

• "So he clung to the War God of Aploth's coattails. Well, with courage like that, I can't say I'm surprised," Matthew muttered, his raspy voice thick with disdain.
• Arachna tipped her head, ebony hair sliding over one shoulder. The candlelight caught the faint quiver in her lashes—an almost feline curiosity flickering there.
• "What puzzles me," she said, turning her wineglass so the blood-red liquid swirled like a tiny storm, "is this—didn't the top brass in Clusia strip that War God of every rank he ever held? Why, then, does he dare stroll in here, flaunting the very title they revoked?"