Had the timeline been different—had he been forced to wait years to reach that theatre of war—he might have hesitated. He might have weighed the stagnation of his wealth against the immediate need for growth.
But the clock was ticking. He was leaving in a single month. In the face of such a tight window, the concept of "cost" became irrelevant. Efficiency was the only currency that mattered now.
"I'll… I'll see what kind of discount our council can authorise for a transaction of this magnitude," Moth managed to say, sucking in a sharp, cold breath of air as if he were trying to stabilise his very soul.
"Since we're already on the subject," Hye interrupted, holding up a hand. For a fleeting, hopeful second, Moth thought the human was finally backing off—that the sheer weight of the millions of bones had finally triggered a sense of self-preservation.
