"You're not wrong," Griffith conceded, easily. He dropped his arm away, but his posture was still calm and relaxed, utterly certain of victory due to him. He dropped back onto the bed, lounging extravagantly with his head tipped to look toward the open balcony and out to that starry sky. "But now you've given me a lead. Give me a few days at least to try and solve this puzzle. If it doesn't work, you can sling me over your shoulder and carry me off."

His eyes cut back toward Guts with a wicked, inviting grin. Sounds fun, doesn't it?

Griffith has called retreats before, but he's not yet ready to deem the day lost on this occasion. He feels freed, powerful, reckless, and he wants to chase that feeling.