Kristoff listens, and his eyes drop. This is the kind of conversation one packs up and saves for later. To take out again sometime in a torture chamber or some other desperate moment, just to soothe one's soul from pain or fear or anything.
So, just in case you needed him to toil unceasingly and die for you without blinking, Sir, that definitely worked, and it's obvious in his tone no matter how steady he keeps his voice. "I will not, Master. Good luck."
"I will not, Master. Good luck."
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