*

In Etna, there is a saying: "There are only ugly battlefields, not ugly armies." The mercenaries brought in a carpet and laid it on the muddy forest ground. On top of it, they placed a low table and placed wooden chairs on either side, creating a simple yet refined talking place on the battlefield. Pugio ordered his men to plant the ancient military flag depicting a fiery lion beside the negotiation site. Vasili's side had no flag and should have inserted a weapon into the ground to indicate the boundary. However, Vasili only had a rusty flame-bladed sword that he could not leave behind. Therefore, with his consent, the two sides used the fire lion flag as the boundary benchmark.

The tradition of the Empire kept the two sides apart. In Pugio's half, there were all the members of the mercenary group, as well as dozens of virgins peeking from behind; in Vasili's half, there was only the uneasy Dàn. Regardless of the disparity in strength, as long as the negotiation table was set up, both sides were considered equal. All exchanges could only take place on the table, and if anyone crossed the boundary without permission, they would be executed on the spot under the joint witness of both sides. Firstly, by signing treaties with various tribes, and punishing those who violate them with superior military force and unwavering determination, Etna has been able to maintain stability for a long time. It seems that even if the Empire falls apart, those who feed on its corpse have still learned much from it.

"Some people think you died a long time ago, while others believe you will live forever, Martin. Only those who were in Hubrey at the time know the truth," Pugio said, peeling off the grape skin. Across from him, Vasili was thinking about whether Pugio's hand or the grapes in his hand were drier. "Eat, you must be starving."

"Thank you, but I just ate not long ago." Looking at the poor quality food in front of him, Vasili couldn't help but furrow his brows, thinking about how the quality of army rations had become so low during his fifty years of slumber.

"Did you really just eat, or do you just 'feel' like you did?" Pugio placed a grape into his dry lips and chewed while speaking, "A few days ago, my legion passed through the graveyard of Hubrey ruins. At that time, I told the lads to lower their voices and not disturb the sleeping dead." Pugio wiped the grape juice from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand, "Your coffin was tightly closed at the time, but now I'm sitting here talking with you. If you don't mind, could you tell me what's going on?"

"Have you checked inside? I've been awake for quite some time." Vasili sniffed the wooden cup in his hand, and the ale inside was a little sour, just like his blatant lies.

"If I am concerned about whether the deceased is at peace next time, I will personally open the coffin to take a look," Pugio was silent for a moment, then laughed heartily. At the same time, he squinted his old bear-like eyes and looked at Dàn. "Martin, can you please ask the virgin to roll up her sleeve? She should have a birthmark on her left arm." Pugio pleaded in a low voice, and Vasili turned his head to meet Dàn's gaze. Dàn, who was implicated, slightly shrugged her shoulders, looking a bit uncomfortable. Vasili nodded, and Dàn lowered her eyelashes, unfastening her traveling cloak, revealing her pure white and flawless upper arm like ice jade.

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"Oh, I remembered wrong," Pugio raised his eyebrows and pointed down the corners of his mouth, pouring himself a glass of wine. "But she is our virgin, certainly." He then raised his glass and toasted Vasili, "I don't know which one makes me happier: reuniting with an old friend or him bringing back our lost goods."

Vasili shook the wine glass in his hand with a glimmer of hope, took a sip, but no miracle happened.

Pugio choked on his drink, took some effort to swallow it, and then burst into painful laughter from his broad chest, even the heavy chain mail laughed loudly. Although he seemed to have lost interest in Dàn, Dàn knew him too well - the old bear wouldn't forget where the honey was. "Leaving aside your resurrection, pagan magic is not something the imperial legion should be concerned about." Pugio spat out the grape pit, pushed the fruit plate aside, "So, what do you say? Are you on the pilgrimage to the Lia Fáil (Stone of Destiny)?"

"Lia Fáil is just a piece of rock," Vasili pressed his finger against the rim of the cup and raised his gaze. "This is the last time you'll see me. I'm planning to find a secluded place to spend my remaining years," the cup, under his control, wavered between tipping and staying still. "The farther away from Hubrey, the better."

"What about Vitulus? Don't you want to see him again?" Pugio rested his hands on the table, leaning forward. He looked over Vasili's shoulder into the darkness behind him, his eyes shining with reminiscence. He began to speak softly, "Oh, that battle fifty years ago. Thinking back on it now still pumps my heart, as if I'm still there. The pure gold thunder stirred the deep red earthfire, causing the whole mountain to tremble. The forest bowed down in submission, and the weather went wild. An era began, and another one was stillborn. I was young at the time, but even though I traveled through much of Insula Nebula afterward, I never experienced a moment so close, so close to the history rewrite itself."

Pugio lowered his gaze, and this time it was Vasili who looked away. "I think if Vitulus were to open his eyes, he would want to see you standing in front of him." Facing Vasili's silence, Pugio leaned back and pulled out an old, dirty handkerchief to wipe his mouth. "Only a few are destined for greatness, and most are destined to become ashes. However, there are also people like you, who are almost great but end up fading away. Although it's a shame, who am I to say anything?"

Pugio put the handkerchief back in his pocket, put his elbows on the table, and crossed his arms. "Before we go our separate ways, there are some property issues to deal with," He gestured to Dàn behind Vasili. "The fugitive virgin behind you killed our comrade and stole the divine fire. According to the old rules, you should go to the stake with her, literally. However, as you can see, we are no longer a legion, but a band of mercenaries. Since we are mercenaries, we have our own way of doing things: give us the virgin, and you can choose to keep the flame."