Chapter 173
Wandering through the desert night, pale and luminous, an unexpected presence revealed itself.
“Huh? Shielph.”
Master Baro gasped in shock.
The corpse of the desert horse lay sprawled there, as if on display. It seemed to have been waiting for the two of them to find it.
“This… isn’t this the horse that elf lady was riding when she bolted?”
Dale nodded silently.
After a silence, Dale spoke.
“I suppose they weren’t planning to just leave us to die in the desert after all.”
“Ah, that damn nonsense about trials and whatnot again?”
“That’s just their way.”
Elven society is an extremely rigid, conservative community that values tradition and discipline to an obsessive degree. Ultimately, to integrate with them, one has no choice but to submit to their rules. That’s likely why Dale’s master, Sepia, became an exile, wandering through the empire’s society.
“No, wait—didn’t you learn swordplay from that old woman on the mountain? Don’t you have any decent survival know-how for a situation like this?”
Dale asked, and Master Baro fell into thought for a moment.
“Hmm, it’s not that there isn’t anything at all. It’s just that it’s a bit…”
“A bit?”
“It’s a method so reckless it borders on ignorance.”
“Are we in a position to be picky about cold rice or hot rice?”
“Heh heh, seeing His Highness the Prince, who rolled around with me, now with a rag stuffed in his mouth… well, that’s fucking satisfying.”
