Still on his throne as the sun set, Zeidan in a fresh royal attire sat on the throne, face thoughtful. The arrival of his back chief of army was announced and he sat up wondering what news he brought. The four hundred-and-fifty-seven-year-old man with agile looks walked in with a smile on his face. Strange.

"The Effinton I know does not know how to smile. What has happened, Eff?" Zeidan called out to the man who stopped some feet away from his throne and bowed waist level.

"Your Highness, the Werecats have retreated."

He smiled inwardly but worried that they might attack again, this time with force.

"How did you...