Early the next morning, Phield yawned, climbed off his camp bed, stepped out of the military tent, and drew in a deep breath of air thick with the stench of blood.
"You didn't sleep well last night? Why do you look so tired?"
Perhaps because he had helped her yesterday, the dragon-blooded girl's attitude had improved noticeably. She handed him a piece of freshly baked bread and pressed it into his hands.
"To be honest, I logged into my alt last night," Phield said solemnly. "In one go I smashed through a heavily guarded manor, defeated the resident knight, looted all night long, and even hauled away their city-defense ballistae. I never lie to my Divine Chosen. Even a temporary one."
"Tch. How boring." Arlya rolled her eyes. "A liar is still a liar. You never left your bed yesterday. Aside from giggling like an idiot at midnight, grinding your teeth in the second half of the night, and mumbling about wanting to touch beast-girl ears, you did absolutely nothing."
