"It's alright," the Lord of Sacom bowed down and opened a shelf on his desk, "And where is Mr. Ranith, A—" he spent an extra second to pronounce the name correctly, "Akki?"

"He was still sleeping. I just want to tell you about—" Akki's sentence was cut off when the lord put the bandit leader's head on his desk, laid on top of a paper. The head was neither bleeding nor spreading any odor. It was already well-processed into a specimen with its eyes closed and no expression found.

"Krux. He and his band of roaming outlaws had given many states a lot of trouble. It was a pleasure seeing them being defeated before they could reach my Sacom," the old man had his right hand on the top of the head, caressing it like it was just a cat or a toy. His grin still looked affable, yet it did not make Akki feel this way anymore.

"I don't know if we had taken down their entire band. We only killed around twenty people, I guess," not bothered by the man's suspicious action, Akki continued the conversation.

"If the letter from other states were not at false, Krux's troops moved in waves. Perhaps the rest aren't here yet. Well, it stops mattering anyway now that their head is dead."

"They still may come and harass Sacom even after their leader died."

"That," he used a slightly higher voice to emphasize the word, "Is not a problem. Although I can not arm my guards into ironclad monsters, my force is still strong enough to face their enemy, especially when their enemy can be slaughtered by two men alone."

"Great," Akki responded with nothing else to say. He was not sure if the lord was praising them or doubting them.

"As the heroes who saved Sacom from the infamous bandit," the lord suddenly announced, "You will get the supplies you need to move on with your journey. However, I hope you can leave Sacom before the noon of tomorrow."

That last sentence made Akki pause for a moment. His eyebrows frowned, "Why?"

"Many things have changed since Mr. Ranithl's last visit. It is hard to explain to a non-Noragenian, especially a non-Letteran."

Stolen story; please report.

"I don't understand—"

"You don't need to understand. It's like I don't know what you are and what those two purple things on your arms are. I don't mean to discriminate, but it is not about you. I respect everyone in Noragen: Letterans, Scolks, Ka-in-nes, Eternians, and…"

"Bohitoes," Akki answered unconsciously. He was still processing the last sentence in his mind.

"And Bohitoes. Thanks to you, I know how to call you and your people now."

After a dozen seconds of silence, Akki broke the air first, "I will tell this to Roal." The ronin opened the door and stepped out. Before Akki closed the door, the lord informed him, "Your clothes and supplies are in the brougham outside the castle. You can arrive at Surt in two weeks if you follow the dirt road. Give the scroll in the brougham to the guard at the sentry post, and they will let you leave."

"Which dirt road?"

"There is only one road in Sacom. Just that one."

"Thanks for your kindness, sir," Akki closed the door in a loud squeak. He was not enraged nor annoyed by the lord. There was only an itchy feeling in his chest. His previous delight was wiped by the unwelcomeness. Also, their fishing activity had to be delayed.

Ranith was still lying on the bed quietly when Akki reentered the room. Without much doubt, Akki sat on the edge of his side of the bed. He propped his elbows on his thighs, weighing his upper body entirely on them. While Akki was staring at the empty floor, the itchiness grew bigger inside him. Raising his left arm and uncovering the skin pump from the baggy sleeves, the ronin heard the lord speaking from the void, "It is not about you." The skin bump was only a bit shorter than his forearm. It was purple, and it was as velvety as any other flesh of any other human in the world. It was—

"Did you talk to the Sacom Lord?" Roal peered at the ronin's half-bent back with one eye and abruptly asked.

Having his thoughts interrupted, Akki sighed, "I did. We need to leave before tomorrow's noon."

"We just got here."

"Yeah." The word was let out with a breath of air.

Roal closed his eyes and scratched his abdomen, "I am fine with leaving at any time after getting fed. I think my belly is twice smaller." He used a spry tone, pretending not to sense the depressing atmosphere.

The ronin quickly stood up from the bed. He was in a desperate need to distract himself from the aggravating malaise, "I will go see if they provide any food."

"I want cheese and beef," the old man added as Akki left the room in a hurry. He flipped his body sideways on the wide bed, stretching his back by reaching one arm backward and the attached shoulder to the original place while the rest of his body was still flipped. After two to three thick snap sounds, he lay back to his original posture, exhaling a puff. He knew his friend was going through an internal conflict, and he knew he couldn't help. Nevertheless, he understood what it felt like to be disowned by one's homeland. It was like losing a part of one's life, or worse, losing a part of one's self. It was arduous even for Ranith, an Eternian who lived in a culture of individualism. It must be harder for a Bohito, who valued loyalty and duty as the highest priority. The situation would be the worst if Roal's guess of Akki secretly being a Juren were correct. The Jurens were obsessed with nationalism and their ethnic identity. Ranith could not imagine what it would take to make a Juren pretend to be a Bohito. Regardless, it was just a guess. Roal did not want Akki to feel mistrusted.