Chapter 19: Origin of Destiny (I)

The next morning. The medical room of the Northern Knights.

Beddiwell wakes up to find a girl changing her bandages. Her slender hand touched the werewolf boy's chest.

"Ahh

"Don't move!" the girl stopped. Her beautiful face has a different kind of beauty when she frowns, enough to charm all male creatures in the world.

"But—" said Bedeville, blushing. Now he is naked, and he is always a little embarrassed.

The girl smiled, her beautiful face blooming with even more charming brilliance in this light smile, and the two faintly visible dimples rippled together with her white and red complexion, which was enough to make any man in the world swoon.

When she saw that Bediwell had finally calmed down, she smiled and whispered, "The wounded are lying down here." I really don't understand that the wooden knight weishenme took you out of the infirmary without permission, and this injury would have been lying for another month. Look, isn't the wound cracked?" "Wood-?" Thinking that it was Arthur who was talking about, the werewolf boy couldn't help but feel amused in his heart. That's a fitting description.

"I, my injuries are fine, so—" Bedivel blushed, even though the wound was torn apart in his panicked struggle, he couldn't care so much about it. He deliberately pushed the therapist's hand away: "Uh, can you stay away from me?" Unexpectedly, this said the opposite effect, and the healer understood the werewolf boy's thoughts, so he laughed mischievously: "Shy? Sure enough, it's a child, it's so cute." "No, no, how could it be. Bediwell's face turned even redder.

What a cute girl, as beautiful as a doll. Her beautiful emerald eyes revealed an unruly aura like a wild horse. Her slender fingers moved deftly, as if deliberately teasing the werewolf boy's body.

If you say something like that--"Oh, the little hairy boy is standing up." The girl said in a playful tone.

"I'm sorry," Bediville whispered, eager to find a hole in the ground right away.

"I'm treating hundreds of wounded soldiers of the Order every day, and you're not the first to do that, kid. The girl smirked slyly, she was used to such things, "Think of this as a compliment to my charm." But if you look at me again," she said, holding up the scissors, the tools used to remove the bandages, "you won't need this [compliment] again." The werewolf boy felt an invisible soreness in his lower body, and he looked away in horror, "Yes, I know, miss." Yes, I'm sorry!" the girl chuckled, and then put down the scissors in her hand: "It's not [Miss], it's Greenway." A voice added, "And it's the daughter of the head of the Northern Heavenly Knights." You little hairy boy must be impatient to live and dare to fight the idea of the daughter of a knight of heaven?" Greenwile turned her head to see that it was the knight Arthur. The knight's original coarse cloth uniform had been replaced by a silver light armor, and the silver snowflake medal reflected the cold light on his chest.

Sure enough, people still rely on clothes. Looking at Arthur like this, Greenway suddenly changed her opinion of the short, rude, stupid-looking teenager before. He may be a little handsome, though he is still a little short.

"I didn't know you still had a sense of humor?" asked Greenway to hide her shyness.

"Do I have one?" said Arthur, shrugging his shoulders and looking seriously thoughtful. He didn't figure out what part of what he was saying was humorous.

"Hum-huh-" Greenway chuckled, the voice like a silver bell. What really made her laugh was the straight look on the face of Knight Arthur as he thought about it seriously.

When she laughed, her face was filled with a fox-like cunning—the same cunning of her father, the Grand Duke of Leon-dugens, who had a father and a daughter.

After a few casual conversations, Greenwiel did not wait, she saluted, and sent the knight's master and servant out without losing her manner: "Take your servant back." Since you care so much about a little servant, you should personally help him change the bandages, and not let him make a fool of himself in front of the lady. "Yes, my dear lady. Arthur bowed half-earnestly and pulled up one of Bedeville's arms.

"I'll go myself!" protested the werewolf boy, getting out of bed.

These contrived rituals of humans made him disdainful. In his eyes, the man and woman are just flirting. Every word between them made the werewolf boy disgusted.

Bediwell had no idea that in Arthur's eyes, the goddess-like Greenway was just an ordinary mortal.

What Arthur saw in his eyes was a gloomy and monotonous shijie:

There is no love, there is no wonder, there is no hope, there is no dream.

Arthur, the Silver Knight, who doesn't know what [joy] is. D. Keldon - can never understand the charm of the goddesses.