—The following morning.

I watched Amalia and Valduin, or rather, 'Val' sleep the entire night. It was uneventful, so far as any unexpected visitors went. I'd been concerned about someone tailing us. Either I'd failed to notice pursuers and they had no plans to ransack us tonight, or I was worried for nothing.

Staying up all night and not being able to work on my Skills was admittedly dull, but after the events Amalia had been through and the addition of a relative stranger, I wasn't about to slack off just because this task was tedious.

Things that needed done, needed done.

I spent the majority of the night regrowing the mineral shell that had been cracked. The structural integrity had been compromised, so I was forced to start over from scratch. I'd experimented with a few other metal coatings and whatnot before, but they seemed to inhibit my control over Mana and my body in general. It made me feel sluggish. Diamond appeared to be an excellent Slime and/or Mana conductor, for whatever reason.

What I wanted was some sort of metal that didn't inhibit my body and was strong against both piercing and blunt trauma. I didn't possess anything quite like that, which led me to remember I needed to visit Precious and finish our trade agreement.

I slipped out of Amalia's grasp halfway through the night and began infusing Mana crystals to use as payment. The Dungeon Core seemed to love these things. While I had concerns about tampering with the local ecosystem and whatever this Kingdom of Brita intended with all those shackles and seals, my desire was simple.

—I needed money and equipment.

Basically, things that would increase Amalia's and my own life expectancy. And if a Dungeon Core could provide those things? Hell if I care where it came from. Pfft, I'd use whatever I could!

'Mingling with adventurer-murdering Dungeon Cores is wrong?' Sounds like a people problem. I only have time for Slime problems. Which was turning out to mean 'armed thugs,' so that's an entirely different type of 'people problem.'

Gah! Those damn brutes. Ruined a perfectly good diamond shell!

Yes, people were annoying.

While I silently grumbled about our recent unsavory encounter, I injected more and more Mana into the crystals, trying to ensure it was tightly packed and wouldn't leak out. Something still hurt whenever I moved Mana around in my body. I couldn't quite place the feeling.

I'd largely adjusted to not having a human form over the past several months, but Slime biology was still not my forte. My best guess? I'd pulled a Slime-Mana-muscle or something. Hopefully nothing permanent. I wished it'd at least show up as a status effect in my 'Menu,' but no such luck. From what I gathered while talking to Amalia and examining that inactive infection-thing in her, non-combat injuries and illnesses didn't seem to show up in the Status Menu.

... Probably.

Regardless, when I examined my physical state, it seemed more or less fine. This only confused me more. It'd been a while since I had aches and pains that didn't soon heal right up. It felt too human. I thought I'd gotten rid of back and knee pains, only to have them replaced with Core pains. What a joke.

... Actually, I'll keep the Core pains. I'd been looking at knee surgery by 50 and probably would've started to develop arthritis in my fingers in another 10 years. Damn keyboards. Not sure why I thought getting into finance was a good idea. Ah well.

Life wasn't so bad as things were when I considered it. Living in a cave was still depressing. Very depressing. But working instead of acknowledging my problems was a skill I possessed in spades. I'm practically a certified expert at not giving a damn! Hmph!

Or so I'd like to consider myself. Truthfully, I was worried about a lot of things still. But worrying doesn't fix anything. And besides, it wasn't like that part of life had been different on Earth. It was just different worries—ones that I realized, in hindsight, really didn't matter as much as I thought.

Getting whisked away to another world and turned into gelatin had that effect on people, I guess. Reflecting on life was still relaxing, in some ways. Mistakes were made to be learned from.

A while later, Val awoke, followed by Amalia. The two seemed content to lay around for a while before I finally nudged my sleepy little dog-girl upright. I started washing Amalia's hair with some soap she'd bought. Initially, Amalia taught me how to make soap. While a surprising and interesting tidbit of knowledge, it took too much time.

Seriously. Messing with lye water and wood ash was a pain, so I told her to just buy some. Who the heck has time to make soap when there are monsters to slay and eat? Thankfully, it wasn't terribly expensive. I'm told it smelled rather bland. Her hair seemed cleaner for the trouble, so I was satisfied. Apparently, liquid shampoo wasn't really a thing here, so I had to dissolve it a bit.

I sat there using water magic, soap, and my body to clean her. The task of breakfast was then left to Amalia, as I was neither a good cook nor a fan of hot things. While she did that, I attempted to mend her tattered clothing that had arrow holes and other cuts in it. Fixing the armor was beyond me, but clothing I could do. It was a good thing I'd learned to sew, but not having hands made things troublesome. Now if only I could get the bloodstains out the whole way ...

"This is most queer, I must say!"

Val's melodious yet loud outburst distracted me.

"What's wrong? Is the food not to your liking?" I asked.

"Nay! Nothing of the sort! I simply find it most peculiar to witness a Slime practicing embroidery, while a beast-hume child prepares the morning's bounty!"

I wanted to frown at the elf, "Someone has to take care of maintenance around here. I promised to take care of Amalia, so that's what must be done. Also, stop calling her a child. She's basically a young woman and should be treated as such."

I watched Val's face contort into several interesting expressions, before finally seeming to settle down.

"If you think about Roz too much, your head will hurt," chimed Amalia from behind.

I spun and stared in disbelief at my protege's betrayal.

"Wh-What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Just giving Val some advice so she can adjust her common sense while around you."

The elf grumbled, "She can't be more than 15 harvests old, how is that not a child?"

This reminded me of something I meant to ask much sooner.

"Hey, elf-lady. How old are you? How long do elves live?"

Yes, a most pressing question. My curiosity toward the words 'elf' and 'dwarf' remained. I'd read books and seen some movies with such things. I needed to adapt my Earth knowledge to this world's knowledge. So far, Val wasn't helping consolidate my understanding. She was very un-elf-like, in my opinion. I'd expected more ... well, she nailed a few things, but the rest? Terrible.

Rather than a reply, she seemed to deflate a bit. Had I asked something wrong? Amalia didn't seem to think I had, judging by her expression. If anything, she looked curious too.

"D-Does such a matter hold any significance? Verily, age is but a social construct to aid the mind in combating—"

As Val rambled on for a while, I drew my own conclusions. Brevity wasn't my strong suit at times, but she could sure be long-winded.

"—so you're embarrassed by your age?"

I watched her tremble briefly, stunned. It seems I hit the nail on the head.

"What, are you like, 200 years old or something? 300?"

At the first number, her chest swelled back up. At the second, she started to blush, as if I'd just given her the best compliment possible. Peculiar.

"100?" At this, she deflated back to normal.

"... 50?" And then she coughed exaggeratedly, a miserable expression on her face. It looked like she'd eaten a bug or spoiled food.

"How presumptuous! I'll have you know I've already passed 66 cycles of age! What's more, I've long undergone higher tutelage in anticipation of serving under the High Druids! My life experience cannot be compared to peers whom—"

Val continued to go on for a while. Elf culture seemed a bit backward. Apparently, she was ashamed that she wasn't ... I can't believe I'm saying this, but 'old enough.' Wasn't she a damn grandma already?

"Alright, I understand. That's enough," I groaned, "Neither of us is judging you for your age, so stop already. Besides, you're over twice as old as me."

After those words left my 'mouth,' I immediately regretted them. A shit-eating grin crept upon the elf's face. I wanted to smash her pointy little teeth out. She seemed way too happy about being a grandma.

Don't mind it. Don't mind it. Just ignore her. You need her for things. Her face would probably taste bad anyway, like lettuce or uncooked broccoli. Do not literally wipe the smile off her face. Aah.

I calmed myself down. Maybe I could grow her some extra fingers then see the look on her face. I still had the plan for three tongues in the back of my mind. Was it too late? It probably was.

"So yeah, Val, I want to heal your hands. Come over here and lay down."

And so, I spent a fair amount of time that morning doing just that. Despite the nagging devil on my shoulder, I didn't give her extra fingers. I can say with some certainty that the elf was now as good as new. I even fixed the recessed hole in her chest.

Elven biology sure is strange. Perhaps she'll let me study her more? I was nearing the limit of learning from Amalia, I think. More test subjects were required.

"How bizarre! These undulations within mine hands feel most relaxing. Why, my digits remind me of the sprouts in Harvestine! Springing up so quickly! Look at them!"

Several exclamations were made by the elf while I worked. It was distracting and draining.

I finally replied with a small grunt, "Nn. Your bones should be solidified, but possibly brittle for a while. The skin will be tender and tear more easily until it calluses over again. Your fingers should work just fine, so test them out. Just try not to uh, punch things. Or get them chopped off again. Yes."

Bedside manner still wasn't my strong suit. I like to think my advice was straightforward, at least. Val kept wiggling her fingers like they were toys.

"Anyway, finger away—I've business to attend to. Too much has piled up while I was gone. Amalia, I uncollapsed the tunnel so that if anyone comes in, you have an escape route. Keep an eye on things, I'll just be down below. Val, you can ... do whatever it is you feel like."

I worriedly looked at the elf who was still fascinated by her regrown fingers. I wanted to tell her that she should eat a bit more since accelerated healing seems to cannibalize calories and left one feeling exhausted, but I'm sure she'll figure it out eventually when her ass got smaller and she wanted a nap.

Again, people problems. I'm definitely not jealous because she still has a womanly figure and I'm a ball of goop. Limbs are overrated.

After settling a few more things, I hauled the tiny crystals down with me and went to visit Precious.

"Greetings, Precious. I have returned."

I sat before the shackled Dungeon Core that sat atop its stone pedestal. I felt that invasive touch reach out, contacting my mind.

"Round One. Precious greets you."

"Anything interesting happen the past few days while I was gone?"

"Yes. Ate one tasty human. Quite delicious. Made Skeleton Warlock with bones. Good material. Very obedient."

"Ah, is that so? I'm glad for you."

From a monster's perspective, I could at least understand Precious on this subject. Some people were tastier than others. Especially the mages.

There was an awkward silence, which I decided meant it was safe to continue.

"So how has progress been on that request I made of you? Were you able to make some of the Mana deflecting 'magic rock'?"

"Yes."

... The conversation paused again.

"O-Oh. How much of it has been made?"

"All."

... Well then.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I see. Uhm, I've brought payment for the magic rocks. Shall we trade now?"

"Precious is ready."

Oh boy. I hope this third-person referencing isn't actually becoming a thing. What has this Core picked up while I was gone? I'm actually a tad worried.

With a healthy dose of skepticism, I ejected the Mana crystals out of my body. Five of them landed before me, much larger than the previous ones. Last night had been rather draining, especially with the Core pain. Making Mana crystals wasn't the most thrilling of ventures either, but the only downside to doing so was I could be using that Mana to train Skills and kill things. It was similar to unfulfilling but lucrative side jobs, in a way.

And then came the grating laughter. I swear, it was nearly as distressing to hear as my attempts at speech. I've really got to work on that to advance my plans.

"Hyihyihihi-! Hyahaha-!"

Hya-ha-ha? That's a new one. Huh, go figure.

I sat there waiting for Precious to calm down. It took longer than usual, so my thoughts drifted toward how to utilize the ore within these babies. It'd been a few weeks since the last trip back to Berrios. Arnie helped fit some things up for Amalia and threatened again to beat me up if I mistreated her. As if I'd do such a thing! ... Intentionally.

I sighed. This world is strange. It's a wonder their society functions with Skills and the Almighty Green Boxes and whatnot. Wait, I wonder if their livestock can level up and evolve ...?

Tests for later.

"—hoho, hyahahahaha!"

Perhaps I can genetically alter and raise a bunch of super-poultry? I've been meaning to start up a business if and when I'm able to blend into human society again. I'll need a product to sell. I wonder why Precious doesn't make its monsters just forge Mana crystals? Are they too stupid? Or maybe Precious just hasn't thought of that yet?

I don't think I should tell Precious this idea. Best to keep my monopoly.

"—kukukukuku!"

Perhaps I could patent health products so this world's humans will be less disgusting? With modern knowledge, it shouldn't be hard to make a few products. The hardest part will be startup capital and ensuring anyone whose livelihood I encroach upon doesn't retaliate. Ah, that just goes back to personal strength. Should I found a religion? I'd probably be good at lying to people. Making some bullshit creationist story up won't be hard.

On second thought, that's a horrible idea. Too much hassle. Even if my Charisma attribute helps, talking that much is mentally draining. I want a carefree life and a few friends at most. Need to find something really stimulating and do that. Sightseeing?

"—byahah, hah-! Hah-! Hrck-! ... Ha!"

Oh thank the Boxes, it's finally over.

I waited a few more seconds for good measure. Precious finally seemed content. These new 'laughs' were becoming worrisome. Was it picking things up from humans? I do recall telling it to monitor people more closely to learn how to farm their Mana and understand how they think, but ...

Bah, whatever. It's probably fine.

I spoke, "So, the thing I asked you for?"

"Precious grew magic rocks by mushroom patch. Second tunnel. Dig at end. One human-half deep in wall."

"Thank you, Precious. I shall return again soon to chat with you and bring gifts. Until then, good day."

"Goodbye, Round One."

Despite the Core's seemingly horrible explanation, I more or less knew precisely where to go and dig. I'd never heard of using 'human' as a unit of measurement before though. Huh.

More importantly, I wanted to put some distance between us. My Core was aching and Precious' touch felt far more invasive than usual. It was starting to cloud my thoughts. Perhaps the exposure time was too long? Or maybe the laugh was just that abrasive.

A short roll's distance away, I sloshed down the aforementioned tunnel and began excavating. After digging a few layers of topsoil and rock off, I did indeed find an extremely mouthwatering, juicy, dense chunk of ore.

Oh. Hell. Yes.

It was like staring at literal gold. Except it was an off gray, with some flecks of blue and white. And gold apparently wasn't nearly as valuable here. So my comparison basically sucked.

Now I just needed to eat enough of it to recreate the stuff, then use the excess. I'd need to see how ridiculously expensive it would be to get some of this inlaid into armor.

Or whatever. I'm not a blacksmith, I just want magic armor and stuff. Arnie should at least be able to direct me to someone who can make it, if not himself, right?

After recent events especially, I was keenly aware of the danger ranged enemies posed to Amalia. And to a lesser extent, myself. Corrections needed to be made.

Oh, and I guess I should do something for Val. A welcoming party?

I tried to think of what we normally did for new employees. I don't believe hazing her would help me in any way. Though it sounded fun. Heheh.

Devious thoughts aside, bringing all this ore up with my body and through these tunnels was a pain. I had to widen several of my tunnels. It took quite some time. While I was working, Amalia contacted me.

"Val wants to know if she can go outside."

"I guess, but why doesn't she just ask me herself?" I asked. This struck me as odd.

"She turned the volume down."

"She, she what?"

"I was teaching her how to turn the volume down on the Link so we wouldn't bother you. She can't figure out how to turn it back up despite me explaining. Only I can hea—ah, please wait for a second, she's asking me something."

I heard a click! noise, followed by silence. Did I ... Did I just get put on hold? My body quivered faintly in disbelief.

Another click!

"Sorry. So anyway, I'm trying to teach her to adjust the loudness and stuff. I didn't want to bother you."

"Since when could we turn the volume down!?"

Silence.

"... Wait, you didn't know about that, Roz? You were the one who taught me how to turn the Link off."

"Off and on does not mean down and up! Hngh. Whatever, I'll figure it out later. We need to plan a visit to Berrios. I want to get your armor patched up and look into purchasing some new things. You're handy with a bow, right?"

I wanted to smack my Core off the Dungeon walls. These missed communication details were frustrating. I know I'm not exactly the best at sharing information myself, but wasn't this a fairly important Link feature? How high do you hold my ability in regard to just assume I know these things, Amalia!? Adults aren't as omniscient as you seem to think!

"Mm, more or less? All knights are supposed to have at least some familiarity with a bow," she replied hesitantly.

"Good. We're getting you some ranged weapons, too. I don't want you on the frontlines until it becomes necessary. "

I expected a complaint or something but instead didn't even receive an affirmative. Was she talking to Val? I didn't like being excluded from conversations, especially ones over my own Link.

I resumed, "So anyway, we're going to visit Arnie and see if he can make some more stuff for you. I doubt the smiths in this town will be up to the task, so we'll have to look outward. We're also missing some supplies, so I'll need you to pick them up while I hang around town. I still want a mask. Val will at least be with you this time, so we'll have to clothe her properly for the trip."

'And pray she doesn't talk someone to death,' I quipped silently to myself.

Yet again, I didn't receive a response. Worrying. Something was definitely up.

"Amalia, is everything okay? Listen, if something is bothering you, don't hesitate to share what's on your mind with me. While I can't promise to have good advice, I'm often told that having someone to listen to still helps."

Or so my therapist often said. Jury's still out on that one.

"... Roz, I unlocked a new Class last night. It isn't Legendary or Mythic, like you said, but it says Rare. Is that a good thing?"

Oh? She unlocked a new Class? Rare is certainly a step up. Unless it sounds like garbage, I don't see why that wouldn't be a good thing. I'm beginning to have suspicions about the chances of Amalia unlocking a high-tier Class like I did, but perhaps humans are different somehow. Val might have some information—gonna have to pick her brain.

"A Rare-tier Class? That is definitely good news, Amalia. It means you're making progress. I advise holding off a bit longer, as a higher-tier will help you in the long run. A Rare-tier might still be a good option as a fallback. Anyway, good work. If you keep this up, in a couple years you might even catch up to me."

While I doubted that, having Amalia of semi-comparable strength to myself was still a worthwhile long-term goal. After all, it wouldn't do for me to have to protect my Royal Guard all the time. That was a backward thought. Anyway, I lavished a bit more praise on her.

Her voice came back over the Link, this time sounding oddly forlorn.

"Oh. I guess you're right."

While I was trying to decide if I should press her on the Class's details, she interrupted my thoughts.

"Roz, you didn't actually kill that last man the other night, did you?"

My body froze. I began to stare off into the distance as the series of events came back to my mind. It was strange. Her words weren't particularly sharp, and she wasn't even in front of me, but they still weighed down on some intangible part of me.

I didn't like this feeling.

"... No, I didn't. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't even lift myself past his muddy boots," some venom seeped into my tone when I recalled my failure and predicament.

I continued, "You were the one that stabbed him. Twice. And I thank you for it. ... You saved me."

I felt so stupid. Was my lie really that easy to see through? Did I overlook some detail? I thought I'd been rather convincing. Shit.

"Amalia, I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn't think you'd be able to take the truth right then. Getting us to safety was my priority. I couldn't afford for you to brea—"

"—I'm not stupid, Roz. I know why you lied. I know it was better that you lied. If I had been stronger, you wouldn't have had to do those things because of me. Those people wouldn't have died so ... so miserably."

I'd been cut off. For a second, I was taken aback. Then confusion gripped me.

"Amalia, you can't blame yourself for these things. The situation was entirely—"

"—Roz, promise me. I'll get stronger, so you won't have to worry. I'll get stronger than any knight. I'll get stronger than even my Dad in all his stories. I don't care how long it takes or how hard it is. I've been really thinking about this. I'm tired of things. So I want you to promise me something, okay? Roz?"

Anxiety was threatening to fill up my body. I didn't like this at all. What was she saying? Amalia rarely talked to me in such a tone. This situation wasn't within my expectations. I hated situations I wasn't familiar with, that I couldn't plan for. Guiding the conversation became impossible.

"W-What is it you want?"

Despite my best effort to sound aloof and confident, my mental voice still trembled the faintest bit. I didn't like that either.

"Don't lie to me anymore. Not you. Please."

My stomach threatened to turn inward. My body felt numb. My mind drifted to other things.

"I, ... Amalia, I-I'm not sure that's a good thing."

Ah. My thoughts are quivering. It's getting jumbled.

"Promises and serious issues, they're, that's different. One's word is important. But sometimes, people just need little lies to keep going though, you know?"

What am I even saying anymore? Stop overthinking things. Just give a logical explanation. She'll understand then why some lies are important.

"Sometimes the truth breaks them. She- I mean, sometimes people just need ... comfort. One day, you'll see, probably, if you take away their hope, then ..."

Does it really matter? Lies, truth. It's best to maintain the status quo. Keep operations moving forward smoothly. Isn't that right?

"—Roz, I don't want to feel like a burden anymore. I'll do better, so please, promise me."

... ... ...

Ah. What a pain. This is no good at all.

"... I promise."

----------------------------------------

My mood was incredibly sour. I'd finished hoisting the ore up and even managed to separate some of the useless sediment from the ore itself to lighten the load. Transporting it shouldn't be too much of an issue, and it would be safest to leave in the middle of the night for various reasons.

Considering this, one day was spent adjusting to having a new house-mate and learning about each other. Some more time was spent attempting to make Val ... not be so Val-like.

Amalia had managed to secure the elf a set of basic traveling clothes and pants, despite Val's objection toward receiving 'further favor.' After grilling her for information, I discovered that the primary reason she was so chatty was due to a feeling of debt. I'm told it was elvish custom to trade information and stories if you were lacking in financial aspects.

What good were stories? Could you eat them?

While I wasn't opposed to information, this near-useless trivia about northern cuisine threatened to give me migraines. I firmly suggested to her that such a thing was no longer necessary, considering she was now basically a coworker of ours.

And besides, monetary payment would be far more useful. Seriously, stories? What the heck? Does she have butterflies in her head or something? Ugh. My desire to visit elves is diminishing.

Working out the logistics of the trip was at least a bit easier with Val present. Before, Amalia would have to shoulder a large majority of the burden. While we tried to travel light to preserve Amalia's stamina, some things were plainly necessary. I hoped to buy or furnish a horse-drawn carriage eventually, or establish a more central base of operations.

Well, that was assuming a lot of things went as planned. A bold assumption, indeed. I wonder if a Slime can get a mercantile license?

The three of us set off on the western path toward Berrios. I crept a short distance from the road to maintain a mutually safe distance for both Amalia and myself. I didn't want to get spotted, and I didn't want her getting ambushed. Thankfully Val seemed to have keen eyesight at night.

'I'll maintain vigil and ensure no ne'er-do-wells impose upon our gait!' she'd said. I was left skeptical.

Still, I'm beginning to think that our recent near-death experience rattled me a bit more than I realized. Leaving Amalia alone made me feel more anxious than before. And the feeling of assigning a task to someone who may bungle the job was always stressful, even back on Earth.

I just hoped Val wouldn't disappoint. She'd displayed some of her earth magic to me earlier, and she seemed talented, but I still felt uneasy. She was apparently a Level 22 'Druid of the Wilds,' which honestly told me very little. Quantifying that bit of information into meaningful and usable data was impossible, so I wrote it off as 'seems pretty good.'

Our pace continued. Other than encountering some aggressive wildlife, the journey was going quite smoothly. So smoothly, that my mind began to wander after a few hours.

While mentally cataloging Val as a chatty office plant to run parallel to Amalia's household dog-pet-employee status, something less expected happened.

"Halt! Identify yourselves!"

A man's voice boomed forth from a fair distance away at the crest of the hill. I suppose not even keen eyesight can see through rock and earth? What a letdown.

Val and Amalia stopped in place, looking toward the source of the disturbance. God damn patrol! Berrios wasn't even that far away at this point. Why's this blockhead even up so late? Aren't you too hard-working, guy!?

The man turned out to be none other than a knight, along with two more flanking suits of armor. The three men bounded our way, before stopping a short distance before us.

"What do we do?" Amalia squeaked on the Link.

"Just identify yourselves and tell them we're traveling on business to Berrios," I replied, "There's no reason to get nervous or suspicious."

Or so I figured.

In actuality, the introduction went much worse than I expected. A half-beastkin and elf traveling in the dead of night were apparently more alarming in Brita than anticipated. One or the other? Might get a pass. Both at once? Stop in the name of the law!

Now, in my humble mind, two women traveling alone at night warranted protection. In this world's view of things, it evidently meant they were up to no good and possible assassin-spies. Or in the very least, troublemakers.

Also, Val boasting of her 'burgeoning magical prowess' and offering 'a mind-blowing demonstration of the mystic arts' did not help assuage these men's suspicions. The wording she chose was truly horrendous. I realize they asked if you two were armed, but do you even know what 'downplay' means!?

Gah! This woman's tongue really is going to get us killed! I never should've regrown it!

I wanted to slap the shit out of her, but I was completely sidelined. Jumping out now would make matters worse. While killing and eating these three men wasn't totally off the table, it was ill-advised. Diplomatic options still existed. For now.

"Val, for the love of all that is holy, let Amalia handle the talking. Amalia, name-drop that, uh, what was his name ... Har- Hans-? Ah! Hendrickson! Ask that they let him vouch for you!"

Knowing the chief of police should help in almost any situation. As it turns out, this bit of reasoning still held true, even in this world.

The knight in the middle heading the group seemed to hesitate. He was now staring at Amalia with great intensity.

"Girl, how do you know Captain Hendrickson?"

I listened best I could from the distance while Amalia explained how she'd met the Knight Captain at that noble's mansion a while back. The three knights seemed to relax, but we weren't off the hook yet.

"Gonna need to check this out. You two are coming with us for questioning. Let's go! If you try anything funny, you're getting shackled! Just cooperate and make it easy on us all!"

As I watched the three men begin to escort Amalia and Val away, I could only sit there in dumbfounded amazement.

I can't believe my Royal Guards just got arrested.