"Wow, it's so dirty in here."

Darien cautiously touched the bed, trying to determine if it was made of wood. The dust stained his hands, but the color of the dirt was still exposed underneath. So he scraped it with his fingernails again, and got rid of a small clod of dirt.

"I feel like we need rags." He straightened up and announced in an affirmative tone, "More than one piece." ”

"I don't want any rags." His brother said, rubbing his ankles in an awkward position, "I'd rather sleep on the mud floor, I've had enough tossing tonight." ”

"But you'll definitely need a towel, chilled." Albert, he walked over to Renault and leaned over to look at the boy's injury, who reflexively dodged, but almost lost his balance, thanks to the Paladin's timely grab on his arm to prevent him from falling to the ground. Albert helped him to the side of the bed, and Renault twitched when he saw the bed, but finally gritted his teeth and sat down, "You should have let me carry you on my back, after spraining and walking half a city, your feet will definitely be swollen tomorrow." ”

"First of all, it's not crippled, and secondly, we don't have towels either." Standing in the doorway, Dineen was very unimpressed by this - in his opinion, injuries that could be healed were not a problem, and all injuries were a valuable lesson.

Albert gestured to shut him up.

Itrego walked cautiously through the room, uncomfortable with the creaking floor beneath his feet. He walked over to the bed and looked at it, then took off his cloak and spread it on it.

"You can use this." He nodded to Darien, and walked away slowly, trying to find a way to walk without the floor screaming, but couldn't until he reached the wall. The orc sat on the ground against the wall, crossed his legs and put his hands on his knees, unconcerned about the dust around him. After a few seconds, he stood up again, slammed a bulging nail back into the floor with a punch, and sat down again.

"Oh...... Thank you. It wasn't until he was done that Darien spoke cautiously, as if he had mustered up a lifetime of courage. Itreg looked at him and didn't say anything back. Albert thanked him for his thoughtfulness.

"Looks like you three need to squeeze in." The temporary guardian spoke, and he also walked over to the bed, folding his cloak in long strips and placing it on top of Itreig's, "Put your head on it, maybe a little looser." ”

Dineen looked at the two of them left and right, sighed, and threw his cloak in a ball: "Okay, let's take this too, I don't need it now anyway." ”

Albert pulled the piece of fabric off his head with a straight face, but finally decided that he should show grace to his juniors: "Thank you, but remember not to throw it away next time." ”

Dineen shrugged.

"When you're done, come next door and talk to me." He glanced at Itreig, who was sitting quietly in the corner, "What about you, orc?" ”

Itreg shook her head and leaned back against the wall, "I'll stay here." ”

"Don't you have any questions?"

"Nope."

Dinen stared at him for a moment, nodded in acceptance, and walked away. He slid silently into the darkness like a ghost, only the sound of the wooden door closing could prove that he hadn't vanished into thin air, but had entered the next room.

Albert put the cloak in his hand on the bed and patted Darian on the shoulder. "I'll talk to Dinein." He said, "You'd better rest early." ”

Darien nodded obediently, watched him walk out of the room, and then leaned in and sat down beside his brother. Renault shifted his place and suddenly looked up, "What are you thinking, Tyran?" I didn't even hear you say anything just now. ”

Tyran stood silently by the window, looking out at the street. Hearing Renault's question at this time, he finally turned his face.

"I still think you should go back." He said solemnly.

"We? Get back? Renault looked at him with wide eyes, "Where are you going?" ”

"Home, of course." Tyran said, "It's almost early in the morning—"

"You want to throw us away again?" Renault interrupted him angrily, "I thought we had already said it!" ”

"I don't, but your father will be worried, and-"

"That doesn't stop him from killing me, especially if you didn't go back with you." Renault nodded his finger at him in the air, "Since he is going to kill me whenever I go back, I might as well continue to follow you, maybe I can get a commutation of my sentence?" ”

"Dad wouldn't do that." Darien whispered.

Renaud glared at him: "When will you learn not to tear me down, brother?" ”

Darian craned his neck and said nothing.

"There's nothing wrong with what he said." Tyran pointed this out.

"Am I at fault, then?" Renaud said angrily, completely forgetting the cause of his sprained ankle, but no one was bothering to remind him, "Didn't I swear to my father that I would take care of you?" Or you can just say I'm just going to cause trouble! ”

"You know I wouldn't say that!" Tyran exclaimed.

"Then why do you have to drive us away? Why don't you first ask someone if they want to protect someone? ”

"Then why don't you do it?"

Seeing that a quarrel was inevitable, a deep voice poured cold water on the two hot-headed teenagers in time.

"Quiet." Itrieg said.

Although the orc didn't even open his eyes, this warning made his existence that was close to nothingness thicker again. Renault choked with Tyran. They looked at each other, realizing that arguing was not a wise decision at the moment, and quickly returned to the same camp in the face of a common threat.

"I'm sorry, sir." Tyran said apologetically, "There won't be a next time, I promise." ”

Itreg opened her eyes and looked at the three of them.

"A smart hunter doesn't quarrel with his companions in the face of a crisis." He said slowly, looking at Renault, "If you want to be recognized, you have to prove yourself first, a bear skin is worth ten cowhides." ”

Then he looked at Tylan again, "Weapons need to be sharpened before they can be used, and hunters need to learn before they draw their bows." Leaders know they should solve problems, not leave them behind. ”

With these words, the orc closed his eyes again. As the teenagers looked at each other, the room fell silent.

***

Dineen completely hid his face in the shadow of the candlelight, to hide the subtle twists and twitches of the muscles that made his expression look hideous. The voice that was accustomed to giving orders became deeper and deeper, and the suppressed breath was like the scorching air rising from the fire in the depths of hell.

"—is there anything I can do to help you?"

Albert shook his head.

"Again...... Be gentle, partner. "That still sounds too sharp." You know you're not out there to give orders, right? ”

Dineen furrowed his brow, quickly released it again, and began his twenty-second repetition. Albert listened intently, resisting the urge to sigh.

"Now it sounds like you want the other person to get out of the way right away." He commented. Then he smiled and tried to reassure his partner's apparently rapidly eroded patience, "Or maybe we can practice something else first—how about trying to lower our heads a little more?" ”

Dineen didn't look appeased at all. His expression worsened, but he remained silent for the end. He leaned forward slowly, his movements stiff as if he had been pressed down by someone standing behind him, rather than of his own volition, and he could only control himself from resisting the pressure. His right hand, holding an empty tray, twitched slightly, and his left hand couldn't help but reach for the hilt at his waist instead of just resting on his abdomen. Albert was glad to realize that if he hadn't stood here, even if another king had come, Dineen would probably have smashed everything in his hand in the other person's face without hesitation.

He watched anxiously as Dineen bent down a little, stopping long before he was up to par. Dinen briefly endured the inability to look directly at others for a few seconds, and then snapped back to a straight state like a bent branch.

Albert sighed in frustration. For a moment he lost patience and wanted to rush up and pull the other man to the point of par himself, without thinking about whether he would be beaten half-paralyzed in the process - of course, that had now become an old joke used to mock his partner's temper and force, and Albert was completely sure that Dinen would not have beaten him for it.

But he did feel irritated, and had every right to complain about it. They've been spending a long time on the basic steps and they've made almost no progress. But in the end, he let the complaints that were already rolling around his mouth be swallowed back. Albert had a strong premonition that his negativity would be met with an unexpectedly enthusiastic response, and that the most reasonable plan would be completely cast aside in favor of some less conformist approach.

He wasn't sure he could stand this.

"One more time." So he encouraged with a gentle tone that surprised everyone, "I'm sure you can do better." ”

Dinen glared at him.

"Nope." This familiar tone made Albert sure that all his teaching on the difference between imperative and declarative sentences had been lost, but there was finally the second half of the sentence as a further explanation, "My back hurts." ”

"I'm sure you didn't have this problem two hours ago." Albert pointed this out unceremoniously. Sensing the faint anger in his voice, Dineh's attitude softened.

"It's ......," he massaged his spine with his knuckles, as if he were really fighting some kind of annoying dull pain that was hard to relieve, "mentally, I thought." ”

"Just say you're not happy." Albert said, but he was reassured by his partner's seriousness, "I guess you didn't have a chance to bow before, did you?" Seeing Dineh nodding in agreement, his curiosity rose unseasonably, "Then how do you usually greet people?" I mean, for those who can make you feel the need to do it. ”

"Hand over a glass or a knife." Dinen said, "When you enlist in the army, you salute." ”

"Even for friends?"

"If my friends want to come to me, it usually means they can't get in trouble. When you're rushing headlong into enemy lines, or you're about to do so, save the time you need to say hello and prepare your weapons. ”

Albert shook his head in disbelief, realizing once again that the two of them were very different in every way. Although they are equally reluctant to grovel to others, his pride comes from his position, he knows the rules of how society works, and willingly obeys and uses it for his own benefit. Dinein, on the other hand, is on the border between civilization and savagery, and his self-confidence comes from violence. Strength is his wealth, power and shield, allowing him to fulfill his will without compromise.

They are at the top of their respective fields, but they become rule-breakers when they intervene with each other. Albert would have been indecisive, and Dining would have been too savage. Then maybe guiding each other is the meaning of their encounter. He will adapt to the war, and Dinen will reintegrate into society.

"Since you can learn to salute, I don't think it's too difficult to bow." Albert pulled the topic back and tried to remove the psychological barrier of his partner, "Seriously, how about trying again?" It should be a lot easier to think of this as a tactical move. ”

Dinen looked at him for a moment and sighed.

"You know what?" "Sometimes I'm surprised why I haven't beaten you yet, but more often I'm surprised why you haven't beaten me yet." ”

Albert blinked in surprise, then couldn't help but laugh.

"Is it a holiday I don't know about today? Otherwise, I really can't figure out how to explain the fact that you're taking turns to surprise me. ”

"The best explanation is that you're making too much of a fuss." Dineh replied unhappily. This time he finally managed to bend his waist to the point where it was up to par, but the pain revealed in the movement would be relatable to any onlooker. He clasped his knees with both hands, stiffly maintaining that position, exuding a gloomy temperament all over his body, "Who else has done this?" ”

"Tyran and Itreig." Albert told him what had happened in the sewers, and said, "I'm really happy for Tirio, and what he gained wasn't necessarily as good as what he lost." I'm sure Tyran will one day be the man to whom the Order will be proud, just like his father. ”

Dinen looked up and gave him a sharp look.

"The same goes for you." He put it bluntly, "They will be proud of you, too." ”

Without waiting for Albert to react to the compliment, he straightened up again and announced, in the same tone as the previous one: "I've had enough." ”

"Wait—"

"I can enter the door as a servant and then pretend to be a guest. This solves the problem of bowing and 'what do you need', and, to hell with the tray. ”

He tossed the plate in his hand. Albert watched as it tumbled in the air and flew across the room, landing head-on on the table with a soft thud, and sliding through the wreckage of the midnight snack by inertia, finally stopping precisely at the other end of the table.

Stunning. That's why he still has a lot to teach and learn. But that's not the point now.

"I'm glad you're still able to take into account the other people who are resting next door." "But why didn't you bring the idea up sooner?" he said angrily. ”

"They're not resting. Itreg was telling them stories. Dinen crossed his arms, "As for why, first of all, don't tell me you're not having fun. ”

Albert coughed in embarrassment: "And then?" ”

"Then there's the trouble part. I need to get a formal suit. I hope you have a reserve of knowledge about dress etiquette. And there's a good chance that I'll meet someone who knows me, so camouflage is essential. Third, tell me how to communicate with a nobleman, or how to pretend to be mute. ”

Albert thought for a moment about how to solve these problems, and then said from the bottom of his heart, "Let's go back to the previous stage, shall we?" ”

Dinen told him with a clear expression that he couldn't.

"Anyway, you haven't told me exactly what that necromancer is going to do at Baron Rivendell's banquet." Albert walked over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down. He wasn't tired, but his head hurt, and the reason was probably the same as Dining's back pain, "Creating chaos, finding out the news, or trying to get something?" ”

"Ah," said Dinen with a strange expression, "it seems that you don't reject these behaviors anymore?" ”

Truth be told, it's not. A month ago, Albert had been upset about trespassing, but now he didn't bother to think about how many laws they had broken. No matter how many times he will be hanged for this, he will only die once after all. As Tyran said, as long as it's all worth it.

"Just tell me what you're going to do." He said with a little tiredness, and at the same time made up his mind that if Dining's mission was to assassinate someone, he would go and get rid of the mage now.

Dineen looked at him with a clear expression.

"Just to find out." He said, "Regarding the Paladin's defense and the purpose of his operation, the reaction of the local nobles to it, and the intention of the guest. ”

"Guest?" Albert asked, "Who is it?" ”