Teclos could not sleep.
For the next week, every time he lay on his bed at night, his eyes would just stay open, staring at the ceiling until the first light of morning crept through the cracks of the shutters. Whenever his body came close to giving in, the image of the open door, the blood, and the broken kitchen returned.
It instantly woke him up again, like a never-ending nightmare.
He could not storm Axel's estate blindly. That much he knew.
Axel was not someone to be messed with. He was a monster wearing an old man's skin. His senses, his combat experience, and his strength were too overwhelming.
So Teclos had no choice but to wait.
And watch.
Day by day, he gathered small pieces of information he needed to infiltrate the estate, carefully enough that he didn't look suspicious or get noticed by anyone. He used his patrols with the Black Hounds as cover, taking routes that passed near Axel's estate for brief moments before moving on.
