Chapter 319: 319 38 Saying 'The Smiling Man' and the Suspicion of t...

--Either you will never speak to your sister again, or you will take her hand and leave the battlefield.

Vestalinu-Gerua remembers that this is what he said to Lugis before.

It was a question that ended up being mooted over drinks at the time, but even after that, Vestalinu doesn't remember letting the question go unanswered.

Vestalines is convinced that if he is to have anything to do with his sister, it must be one of the two. If not, she will surely be unhappy. I can't let that happen no matter what.

Besides... Vestalines still has great doubts about the nature of Lugis.

After all, his actions and intentions are the height of recklessness and recklessness. Can he really be called sincere? He may not be a bad person, but even so, I don't think he is the kind of person I would trust my sister with.

In fact, why would my sister be in love with such a person? Vestalines could not understand. If she had been a little more sincere, she would have welcomed him.

That's why Vestalinu was willing to accept Lugis' request this time. It was because her sister was stuck and she was able to move. I let the shoes of the Belle Fain mercenaries go through the dead snow.

Of course, there is the calculation that relations with the heraldry should be maintained in good standing, but this is an undeniable opportunity. This is an opportunity to find out the true value of Lugis.

After all, this time there is no Caria-Bardnick, who refuses to leave him as if he were on a leash, nor Fialat-La-Borgograd, who follows him like a shadow. Even the presence of the Elven Queen has vanished.

It's a great stage to assess his nature and value alone.

If he was just a man who could only wield reckless bravery, Vestalinu thought, then so be it.

--Then, as is customary on the battlefield, he would have to be a bit quiet. I'm sure the gods will allow it.

I'm sure the gods will forgive me. It's an act of affection, a deeper love than anything else. Vestalinu looks at Lugis beside her, his big, majestic eyes shining.

As she looked around at the mercenaries with a chewing tobacco in her mouth, her face seemed to be assessing them. I can't seem to decipher what words or scheming maps are unfolding in his chest.

With a slight pout on her lips, Vestalinu spoke into his ear.

The messenger has returned. Jailbella has about three or four hundred men. The quality of their equipment is not bad.

There is no mistake in that information. After all, I had sent several messengers to the prison to comply with his request.

However, regardless of the authenticity of the information, it is certainly not good information.

The number of troops is equal to or slightly higher than ours. If we were to attack them head-on with our spears, we might not be defeated, but we would definitely suffer casualties. If they were wounded in such a trivial field battle, the morale of mercenaries would easily fall.

After that, there's no way they can do what Lugis was aiming for, such as taking down Jail Bella.

I'm not sure what you're looking for.

To be honest, I was expecting it. She had expected him to show his inadequacies, to give off an air of frustration.

Vestalines did not have a disposition to take pleasure in the misfortunes of others, but he seemed to have developed a rare kind of hostility towards the person who had taken his sister's love away.

Perhaps that's why, the next moment, Vesterine blinked her eyelashes as if she was out of sync.

That's good. Then let's talk. There are only two things I want you to do, Vesterine. First, I want you to put on a good show. After that, I'll take care of it.

His voice, so matter-of-fact. Vestalinu's earlobe. It sounded as if she'd made it up as she went along.

I don't like it.

I'm not happy with it." Lugis' voice came across as irritating to Vestalynne. A little more impatience would have been nice. She knew it was an ugly feeling, but she couldn't help it.

I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not.

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Vera, the burial jailer. Paloma Bashar, the jailer, tapped her palm on the desk in her room with a bitter look on her face. This was not an outburst of irritation, but rather a habit of his when he was frustrated.

His mustache twisted. Clicking his teeth, Paloma let the words slip out.

"What about the soldiers, did they ...... come back or not? Are they coming back or not? Huh?

His voice was clearly upset. The warden understood from that comment that he was probably not used to such unexpected situations.

He is not a bad person. He was a little skeptical, but he was a good lord. However, such people are very timid in times of emergency, especially when it comes to sending out troops. At least, his father, my predecessor, was like that.

Knowing this tendency, the warden nodded slowly and spoke in a low voice.

Don't worry, sir. I have sent out as many men as possible as you instructed. There is no need to be afraid of the night robbers.

It was an undeniable fact. Normally, a hundred or so men would have been enough, but out of consideration for the cautious Paloma, he sent four hundred, including the guards, to patrol. He left the minimum number of guards on patrol and let the men go.

It's not a very large number, but it's not enough for the night thieves who are roaming around here. In the first place, the area around Jail Bella is not a region with many villages or cities, but rather a region where poverty is the norm.

Large-scale night robbery groups usually make their strongholds in wealthier areas. This is not the kind of place to show your face. The size of the group is known when the merchant who was ambushed can escape.

The warden had finished answering Paloma's timid question several times. The door slammed a little harder. Paloma bounced her shoulders unconsciously.

But the tapping was characteristic of a messenger. Without much delay, the door opened and the messenger announced.

"Warden, Warden. The soldiers have returned!　Damage is minimal!

The tone of the messenger was somewhat upbeat. This would not be the case if the message was sorrowful. Rather, it would be more detailed.

The warden wrinkled and asked how the supplies were doing.

Perhaps he had been waiting for that question. The messenger raised both eyebrows and said that most of them had been brought safely to the vault by wagon.

After hearing that, Paloma finally opened her mouth.

...... What happened to the night thief?　Did they escape or were they defeated?

He was not relieved by the return of the soldiers, but stroking his mustache, Paloma pierced the eyes of the messenger. Stammering under his gaze, she replied that all the messengers had fled.

Paloma's long, sharpened eyebrows bounce upward in a show of skepticism. Paloma's long, sharpened eyebrows dart upward in a show of skepticism, and she carefully formulates the words in her mouth before saying.

I doubt it, warden. The burglar had successfully taken his prey and was storing it in his belly. Would you do such a thing as spit out most of it and run away?

Hearing Paloma's words, the warden couldn't help but snicker. He hadn't expected Paloma to say something like that every time. This was a trait she hadn't had since at least her predecessors.

More skeptical, more timid.

In the past, once things were settled, the warden was in charge of everything after that. I guess he was never interested in the prison.

The same should have been true for Paloma, the current head of the family. But he seems to have planted a seed of skepticism in his skull. It's like when the wind hits the window hard before going to bed at night, and you can't help but wonder if something suspicious is approaching.

The warden stroked his fingers over the wrinkles, wondering what to do.

"Don't worry, Master Paloma. That's the way it is with night thieves. They don't think or rationalize.

He must have been drinking at the very least and then ran away, thinking he was outnumbered by our men. I'm sure you'll be able to understand why.

I don't know what to say. Make sure there's nothing strange in there.

It was a harsh, cold voice.

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