Chapter 628: Mouse

Thales stood in the center of the study and pointed at the invitation on the floor with a face that had lost all hope in life.

"Ready?"

"Wait."

Asda stopped him.

The Mystic looked at him faintly and slowly raised a finger.

"This time, try this."

Thales froze.

"Try wha--"

Before his words fell, the sound of wind suddenly rose.

The broken chair missing one corner rose from behind the desk and flew toward Thales.

Thales was immediately shocked pale and instinctively raised his hand.

"What the fuck are you do--"

Thud!

The chair landed, making a loud sound.

In the next second, urgent knocking came from the door.

"Your Highness, Your Grace! What happened? Please answer me!"

"We have to go in. Move aside."

"No, together. On three. One, two, three--"

Bang!

With another loud sound, the two people on shift, Second-Class Vanguard Officer Leo Morgan and Second-Class Guard Officer Jose Kusta, joined forces to smash open the door. They rushed into the room, then stopped together, eyes wide.

"Your Highness?"

Thales had his back to the two guards and was sprawled over the chair in a strange posture.

"Leo, Jose, wow, it is you two tonight."

Thales turned back with difficulty and forced a smile.

"It is nothing. I was exercising, hehe, and a stinking mouse caused trouble..."

Morgan and Kusta turned their heads to check. The entire study was empty. Aside from two extinguished candle stands, everything was normal.

"But, Your Highness, your nose..." Guard Officer Kusta, speaking with a heavy Thornlands accent, looked at Thales, whose backside was sticking up as he lay on the chair, and hesitated.

Thales calmly took out a handkerchief and wiped away the blood under his nose.

"Nothing, nothing. You know, puberty."

He waved his hand.

"Go out."

Morgan nodded. He walked to the candle stands and relit them.

"But--" Kusta still wanted to say something.

"Out." The Duke of Star Lake gritted his teeth.

Morgan pulled Kusta back and bowed to Thales.

"If you need help, Your Highness, we are at the door."

Thus, Thales watched them leave and close the door.

Only then did the youth let out a breath. He looked at Asda, who had reappeared at some unknown time, and flew into a rage.

"I thought you sealed off the sound!"

"I did seal it off." The Mystic seemed thoughtful.

"But between the mystic energies of different thresholds and different Mystics, interference and mutual rejection cannot be ignored. They are second only to the influence of legendary anti-mystic armaments on mystic energy."

Thales was somewhat dizzy from this string of terms, and given his current miserable state, he patted the chair beneath him and said unhappily:

"Fine. Then please, next time you want to do this, can you send an invitation first?"

Asda stared at the chair and said nothing.

"This chair originally could have lasted another week, but now..."

Thales angrily let go.

The poor chair immediately split into two neat halves and fell to either side.

"Truly, thank you so much!"

All right. How was he supposed to explain this to everyone?

His Grace the duke fell from a broken chair missing one corner, hit his nose until it bled, and in a fit of anger drew his sword without mercy, leaving the poor chair without an intact corpse?

But the Air Mystic only slowly paced to Thales' side and signaled him to be silent.

"Starting now, I will ask you some questions. You must concentrate fully and speak carefully," Asda said softly, but with extreme seriousness. "Slow your speech. Speak word by word. If I tell you to stop, you must immediately shut your mouth and not say one extra word."

But Thales was still angry.

"And if I say too much? What then?"

Asda glanced at him. His gaze was cold, killing intent overflowing.

Thales choked.

He sniffed, feeling the strong taste of blood, and said gloomily:

"Fine."

Asda observed the chair that had separated symmetrically.

"What is this ability?"

"Who kno--I do not know what it is, and I do not know how I learned it. It looks like Ralf's ability, or some street magician's trick," Thales said irritably.

But abilities and tricks do not get everyone shouting for my death and make me run for my life every day.

"No."

Asda stared at the chair with fascination, yet shook his head in denial.

"An ability is the nature of life's evolution. A trick is deception with only appearance. But this..." The chair floated before the Mystic's eyes, accompanied by his distant and pleasant voice. "This exceeds the scope of our understanding. It is completely different."

Thales wiped the nosebleed clean, entirely uninterested.

"Whatever."

"It... what can you affect?"

"Small objects," Thales said listlessly. "The smaller the target, the better. The lighter, the better. The closer, the better. The simpler, the better. For example, paper, leaves, hair?"

"And if the target is too large, too heavy, too far, or even structurally too complicated, I get a nosebleed and feel dizzy. If I use it frequently on top of that..."

Asda narrowed his eyes.

"It hurts?"

Thales recalled his dangerous escape in the Prison of Bones.

"No. A little better than that..."

Thales pulled the corner of his mouth, expressionless.

"I die."

Asda thought for a while and nodded slowly.

"Interesting."

"Most of the time, it is like stretching out a hand to reach something far away." Thales helplessly picked up one half of the chair from the floor, then very disrespectfully walked up to the Mystic, yanked down the floating half, and pushed both pieces into a corner. "But occasionally, a few times, when I stretch out my hand, I feel, I feel it is not just stretching out a hand, but more like, like..."

At this point, Asda abruptly turned back.

"Stop!"

Thales was startled by the sudden interruption.

Asda closed his eyes. Several seconds later, he finally spoke.

"How long?"

"This thing?"

Thales adjusted himself while cursing Little Fool in his heart.

"I have practiced for about half a year. Every time, it leaves me with an aching back and waist, unable to get out of bed. Only now can I be considered to have found a bit of the way--"

Asda suddenly opened his eyes.

"Stop!"

Thales choked again, as if something were stuck in his throat, extremely uncomfortable.

Damn it. Again?

"Remember my words. Be careful with your wording," the Mystic said carefully. "You said you found a bit of the way. What way?"

Thales swallowed.

"Let me put it this way. Once, I grew tired of practicing with paper and wanted to try a carriage rein instead. As a result, that rope, so thick and hard, became in my hand--"

"Stop!" the Mystic's warning sounded at the right moment.

Fuck.

Thales pursed his lips and changed the topic.

"In short, I had no choice but to throw it into the sewer. Of course, under normal circumstances, just locking onto the target is already difficult."

Asda sharply grasped the key point.

"Normal circumstances?"

Thales shrugged.

"Yes. Obviously, when I was knocking, everything was very easy, as natural as breathing or drinking water--"

Asda raised his hand again.

"Stop!"

Thales sighed helplessly.

Could they still have a proper conversation?

Asda fell silent, thinking to himself.

"I know. This feeling is very strange, right?"

The prince, unhappy after being interrupted several times, sneered.

"You are very curious. You want to understand and explore, but because of the First Mystic Pact, you have no choice but to desperately restrain your impulse, resist temptation, and constantly tell yourself you cannot go deeper, cannot continue, must stop..."

He looked at Asda, whose eyes emitted blue light, and revealed a sinister, cunning smile.

"Then do you want to know more? Do you want more? Hehe, I can give it all to you..."

Blue light flashed in Asda's eyes.

"Ahhh--air, air... I was wrong, teacher!"

The blue light flashed again. The Duke of Star Lake, below one person and above ten thousand, regained the right to breathe freely and lay pitifully on the desk, panting.

"So, the First Mystic Pact," Thales turned back weakly, "what was the original purpose of its existence?"

Asda did not speak. He stared at the chair in the corner and said faintly:

"For ourselves."

Another useless answer.

Thales sighed. Without a chair, he could only turn and sit on the desk.

"All right. I gave you what you wanted and answered the questions you asked. Can we return to the main topic now? Before I die from blood loss?"

The youth knocked on the desk impatiently.

"Now, among the three Mystics, what did you want?"

The blue light in the Mystic's eyes gradually extinguished. He turned with his hands behind his back, his silhouette in the study cold and ethereal.

"Do you truly want to know?"

"I said, the more you hide from me," Thales idly shook the handkerchief stained with nosebleed, "the more likely I am to stumble over something I do not know."

"Moreover, are we not student and guide? So close and trusting toward each other, a model teacher-student pair..."

Asda suddenly spoke:

"Answer me: who won the Final War?"

The boring classroom atmosphere suddenly became solemn and formal. Thales was somewhat caught off guard and hurriedly put away the handkerchief.

Who won?

"Uh, the world, mortals, all intelligent races?"

But Asda did not speak. The Mystic still looked at him coldly.

"All right."

Thales crossed his arms and thought for a while.

"The Magic Empresses."

"The legendary anti-mystic armaments they created can seal Mystics," he remembered what he had seen at the deepest level of the Prison of Bones and could not help frowning, "but cannot affect themselves."

Only empresses may set fires; Calamities may not light lamps.

Asda's gaze flashed.

"It seems that since we last parted, you have taught yourself quite a bit."

Thales snorted lightly.

"Do not forget. Left hand crown, right hand mystic energy."

Thales heroically spread both hands, then awkwardly hid his left hand, full of blood marks, behind his back.

The youth continued:

"In this way, the Twin Empresses drove the other Mystics into becoming street-crossing mice, monopolized the right to use mystic energy themselves, and according to what you said, deepened their understanding of mystic energy. They were the greatest winners."

Asda nodded.

But in the next second, his tone became mysterious.

"Then, as the greatest winners, why did the Magic Twin Empresses disappear from public view over seven hundred years, hiding behind the scenes, passed down only in the fear of a few people, with no one even knowing where they are?"

Thales froze.

The Magic Twin Empresses. Why did they disappear?

This question...

The Mystic slowly paced over. His questions advanced layer by layer, his pressure growing heavier.

"Why did they distribute legendary anti-mystic armaments to mortals and rely on the kings, lords, governors, and bishops of this world to perform the duty of monitoring the world in their stead?"

"Why not simply reveal their identities, rule billions of living beings, command all things in the world, prosper those who obey and destroy those who resist?"

"As the radicals did?"

Asda stared tightly at him, waiting for his student's response.

Uh, what Old Crow said about the limits of rule? No, that was only for mortals.

Thales suppressed the first answer and found that this was indeed a good question.

He began thinking through the logic.

"Because warriors who defeat evil dragons do not do so in order to become evil dragons? All right, that was a joke."

"Because, because it is convenient? Because of laziness? Efficiency? Because they, uh, do not have time? You know, not every Mystic has the leisure to help criminal organizations fight group battles and seize territory."

The Air Mystic still watched him faintly, silent and unmoving, making no reaction to Thales' sarcasm.

Thales could only put away his teasing and answer seriously.

"All right, honestly, what I can think of is this: since they used the Cleansing Plan to erase the existence of Mystics, the Twin Empresses themselves cannot conveniently appear before the world either, so as not to damage the effect of blocking information and concealing history?"

Asda stared at him for a very, very long time.

As if trying to connect to his heart with his gaze.

This made Thales somewhat uneasy.

Wait, had he gone off topic? What had he just asked again?

Finally, the Air Mystic smiled coldly.

"For a long time, I too was curious about this question. In order to solve it," Asda's gaze burned brightly, "I needed more information."

"And Frelan was right about one thing."

His guide slowly said:

"Since the Final War, the Jadestar royal family has had a long inheritance and participated in many matters. It must hide many, many secrets that Mystics cannot learn."

Thales slapped his forehead.

Oh, right. Asda had joined the Three Calamities Alliance for this reason.

"So, at the risk of having your home address exposed, you registered under your real name as a member of the 'Frelan Mutual Aid Group' so you could see reference materials unavailable elsewhere and study 'why the Twin Empresses are such shut-ins'?"

Thales asked tentatively.

Asda silently looked at him, unmoving.

All right. It seemed he did not understand the joke.

Thales could only sigh.

"Then what is your research conclusion?"

Asda moved his gaze away and turned to look out the window.

"They hide."

Deep blue light rose again in the Mystic's eyes. His tone was hollow, yet for some reason made one's heart palpitate.

"Because they fear, dread, and guard against something."

The Twin Empresses fear, dread, and guard against something?

Thales froze and asked in confusion:

"Fear what? They are already the most powerful Mystics, and no one can restrain them..."

No one can restrain them.

Thales paused and realized:

"Oh, you mean Toros? He has power that can surpass the Twin Empresses?"

Toros.

Asda abruptly turned back, blue light in his eyes sharp.

Thales was startled and staggered.

The Mystic spoke slowly and with great gentleness:

"I noticed from just now that although I have rarely mentioned him, you already seem to know something about this predecessor."

His gaze sharpened.

"The question is, where did you learn it?"

Thales instinctively swallowed.

Under Asda's aggressive gaze, he remembered the words of that predecessor at the critical threshold before knocking:

[Guiding you is Asda's responsibility. It is not convenient for me to interfere.]

[Among Mystics, there is a sacred and inviolable relationship between guide and guided. For example, you and Asda. You have a special and close connection. To each other, you are special and important existences.]

Thinking of this, Thales instinctively said:

"Books. I read it in books."

But Asda immediately pressed:

"What book?"

Thales blurted out:

"Forbidden books. In the Sunset Temple's collection..."

The Mystic pursued relentlessly.

"Which one?"

Thales choked.

He had no choice but to show an apologetic smile.

"All right. I will tell the truth. It was actually guard records. The Flag Wings of the Royal Guards record the words and actions of historical figures."

Asda narrowed his eyes.

"Whose records?"

"The Revival King's." Thales did not blink. "Tormond the First. He mentioned things he saw and heard during the Final War, including Toros."

"Oh, the records are stored in Renaissance Palace. Do you want to go look?"

Asda was silent for several seconds.

"No," the Mystic looked at him faintly. "There are legendary anti-mystic armaments inside. It is not safe."

Thales looked as if he had just realized this.

"Oh. What a pity."

"Do you want me to steal them out for you?"

"No need." Asda said softly and turned away.

"But no." The Mystic continued the topic. "The one they fear is not Toros."

His words carried deep dread.

"You cannot imagine what level and height the Magic Empresses have already reached since creating the legendary anti-mystic armaments."

"I think that even Toros, with all his seniority, could not contend against the unrestrained Twin Empresses."

Even Toros could not contend against the Twin Empresses?

Thales was first slightly shocked, then asked in confusion:

"Then what else can they fear?"

Asda did not answer directly.

"Think, Thales, think." The Mystic looked at Star Lake, where the stars of the sky were reflected. "Do not develop the bad habit of waiting for answers."

Thales frowned.

The unrestrained Twin Empresses.

Unrestrained...

No.

Thales' gaze moved.

Not exactly "no one."

Not entirely.

"Each other."

Thales stared at the chair split into two halves in the corner and said seriously:

"Blood Spike and Black Orchid. As the victors of the Final War, as Mystics who surpassed the vast majority of their peers, the only ones who could truly contend against the Twin Empresses are each other."

The youth's expression was solemn.

"The one they fear and guard against is the other."

Asda snorted lightly.

"It seems you are not entirely dull."

Receiving approval, Thales' eyes brightened.

"So, without a common enemy, the two empresses became each other's greatest threat and split after the war, turning against each other."

"And the reason they hide behind the scenes is to guard against the other's sneak attack. This is a battle royale game where whoever finds the other first wins?"

Faced with his student's expectant question, the Mystic neither confirmed nor denied, only said flatly:

"As I said earlier, you are drawing closer to the truth of the world."

This was probably Asda's version of "you did great," Thales complained inwardly.

"All right. Knowing this, so what?"

Thales returned to the main topic, carefully preventing Asda from leading him away.

"Your purpose in joining the Three Calamities Alliance was not to borrow strength and win over one of the Twin Empresses to attack the other, was it?"

Asda was silent for quite a while.

But when he spoke again, his tone was different.

"Thales, are you certain you want to keep listening?"

The Mystic's voice was faint.

Thales froze.

"What?"

The Mystic turned around. His figure blocked the moonlight, giving Thales a sense of pressure for the first time.

"You must know, truth and secrets often carry heavy burdens."

Asda spoke softly, his meaning deep.

"Are you truly ready?"

Looking at him, Thales frowned in confusion.

"Why have you suddenly adopted the tone of someone telling a ghost story?"

His teacher smiled coldly.

"Because once you know, you cannot turn back."

Cannot turn back?

Thales curled his lip without care.

"Even if I do not know, I have no road back anyway, right?"

What kind of joke was this?

Did he truly think Thales Jadestar, the number one survivor of the world of Errol, had grown up scared?

At this point, Thales suddenly sensed something and raised a fierce finger.

"And do not even think about saying 'class dismissed' now!"

Asda snorted, neither cold nor warm, his emotions difficult to distinguish.

But uncharacteristically, he spoke quite readily.

"During the time I cooperated with Frelan, through the Jadestar royal family, the Secret Intelligence Department, and even the Blood Bottle Gang, I obtained some precious historical records."

Thales narrowed his eyes.

"About?"

Asda revealed a rare smile.

Its meaning was strange and difficult to define.

"You already know that all legendary anti-mystic armaments were created by the Twin Empresses and cannot affect the Twin Empresses, correct?"

Thales could not help looking at him uneasily, suspicious in his heart.

"So?"

The Mystic lowered his voice.

"What if there is an exception?"

"What if, in this world, there exists an armament not created by the Twin Empresses?"

Thales first froze, then understood.

Damn it.

[Eighteen years ago, the first and only legendary anti-mystic armament in history not made by the hands of the Magic Empresses...]

In the Prison of Bones, the mysterious voice of the leader of the Disaster Swords seemed to echo beside his ears:

[Was barely forged in the Kingdom of Stars, upon the base of this Dragon Breaker.]

So this was what he was talking about. That made sense.

Thales took a deep breath.

"So you want to tell me you discovered an unregistered legendary anti-mystic armament that can affect the Magic Empresses?"

This time, Asda stared at him for a long time before speaking solemnly:

"In case you regret it after hearing, I will ask again. Are you truly certain you want to hear..."

Thales rolled his eyes inwardly.

"Enough nonsense!"

The duke was decisive and unquestionable.

"Speak!"

Why all this mystery?

Did he really think Thales did not know?

Dragon Breaker, Blade of Purification, the result of the greatest king, and possibly the only weapon that could seal the Twin Empresses. He had long since held it in his hand, and had actually used it.

Did Asda really think putting on this posture and creating atmosphere could frighten him?

Asda revealed a mysterious smile.

Wait.

Thinking of this, Thales felt somewhat troubled.

Beyond the calm of someone who had seen many battles, how should he grasp the proper amount of shock, showing that he had seen the world without arousing Asda's suspicion?

"During the Final War, every legendary anti-mystic armament was created by the Twin Empresses, then distributed to selected Calamity Hunters to borrow the strength of many and hunt Mystics."

While Thales was thinking, the Air Mystic had already spoken.

But what Asda said was not what Thales had imagined.

"But after comprehensively comparing all relevant records of the Kingdom of Stars, I confirmed something interesting. Some armaments must have been issued after the Final War."

Thales, who had expected to hear "Blade of Purification," did not react for a moment and paused.

"So what? That is normal."

The youth picked his ear and followed the train of thought.

"Although the war ended, the hunt for Calamities continued. The Twin Empresses' targets were not only the radicals, but also other Mystics, such as you. Not to mention troublemakers like Giza who were still jumping around..."

At this point, Thales shuddered hard.

Wait.

What Asda just said was wrong.

Outside the study door, Vanguard Officer Morgan and Guard Officer Kusta stood facing each other, one expression cold, the other fully focused.

"Our Highness," Kusta stared seriously at the door, though he could no longer hear any sound from within, "sometimes does unexpected things, does he not?"

Morgan did not respond.

Kusta snorted lightly.

"Have you heard Komuto talk about what happened in Red Street..."

"Do not bother trying to get close, Thorn barbarian." Vanguard Officer Morgan rudely interrupted him without even looking at the other man. "I am not interested."

Kusta's expression stiffened.

Thorn barbarian.

Kusta, who had bronze skin and a foreign-looking face, took a deep breath.

"Correct. My father did indeed come from the Thornlands, but he was also a noble of the Kingdom of Allenbia. My maternal grandmother was as orthodox a Star citizen as could be..."

"Who cares which person fucked out a bastard like you?"

Guard Officer Morgan, who kept strangers away, raised his voice and snorted in contempt.

"Just guard your door, Thorn barbarian."

Thorn man. Kusta's breathing sped up, and he clenched his fists.

"They say you are a veteran," Kusta's tone cooled. "But you were driven out of the army. Because you fled from battle?"

This sentence worked. Morgan moved his eyes for the first time and stared at Kusta.

But Kusta's tone became increasingly mocking.

"That must have been interesting, right?"

The Thorn man sneered.

"Your superior, did he not beat the shit out of you?"

When the words fell, Morgan's eyes changed.

Cold to the bone.

The veteran's hand moved toward his weapon.

"Remember, we are on duty," Kusta pressed a hand to the hilt at his waist and said coldly. "So do not get any stupid ideas."

"Unless... outside the army, you want to be expelled from the guards too?"

Morgan's hand stopped.

His eyes were gloomy.

"Do you know why they expelled me?"

Kusta sneered in disdain.

"Who cares--"

"What are you doing?"

In that instant, the strange figure that abruptly appeared made Kusta and Morgan both tremble.

Kusta instinctively drew his blade.

Clang!

With a sharp sound, Kusta stopped the blade in time. It stabbed hard into the wall, only a foot from the stranger's neck.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Kusta cursed fiercely and withdrew the blade, still shaken.

"I almost fucking--Master Vitano?"

Kusta and Morgan stared tightly at the stooped figure beside them. Vitano, the caretaker of Star Lake Castle, was holding a lamp and trembling before the door.

Remembering Chief Mallos' courtesy toward this person, Kusta hurriedly put away his blade and changed his tone.

"You, you startled me."

"Hey, old man." Morgan, on the side, had no such good temper. He glared fixedly at Vitano and likewise put away the two short swords at his waist. "What are you doing here?"

The lamplight swayed. The figure trembled. Vitano slowly turned his head, his cloudy eyes glancing toward the two men.

"You did not feel it?"

"Wow. You, you can talk?"

Kusta first froze, then reacted and cleared his throat.

"Sorry. Feel what?"

"Mouse."

Vitano stared at the study door.

"In the castle," the old man lifted the lamp and said with certainty, "there is a mouse."

No matter how poorly they got along, Kusta and Morgan still exchanged a glance at this moment.

Though the communication was not very efficient.

"Yes, we know."

Morgan sized up the old man and said coldly:

"One old mouse."

Kusta smiled.

"Of course. The only place in this ghost castle without mice should be Swift Shadow Building. That place is a wildcat nest."

But Vitano shook his head. His gaze did not leave the door.

"No."

"An outside mouse."

Vitano looked at the door and said slowly, but also firmly:

"Very, very big."

"Very big."

Kusta and Morgan exchanged another glance.

The Thorn man narrowed his eyes, pointed at his head, and lowered his voice.

"Hey, is he a bit... here?"

Morgan curled his lip and did not answer.

But in the next second, Vitano's figure trembled and stepped forward.

"Hey!"

One from the left and one from the right, two arms firmly stopped him.

They also blocked the door.

"Please stop, Master Vitano," Kusta said firmly and solemnly when he saw the old man's direction. "If you truly wish to see the duke, I can announce you first."

"This road is closed," Morgan said even more simply.

Vitano trembled and came back to himself, then began to study the two of them again.

"You are Royal Guards?"

The old man asked softly.

Kusta lowered his arm and smiled.

"Yes. We are the royal family's guards at Star Lake Castle..."

"You should jump." The old man said coldly, throwing out a sentence without beginning or end.

Kusta frowned.

"What?"

"You." Vitano's words were long, each breath like that of a dying man. "All should jump from the castle."

Jump?

Morgan's eyes sharpened, and he put his hand on his sword hilt.

"Jump? Why?" Kusta asked in confusion.

Vitano turned his head, first glancing at Kusta, then glaring at Morgan. Finally, his gaze fixed on His Grace the duke's door.

"Because you are useless."

"You cannot even catch a mouse."

When his words fell, the old man ignored the two confused men and turned around on his own.

In the swaying lamplight, step by difficult step, he left the place and disappeared into the depths of the corridor.

Kusta and Morgan stared fixedly at his back, baffled.

"Doyle was right." Only after seeing him walk far away did Kusta shake his head. "That old fellow, even if he is not a zombie, definitely has something wrong with his head."

"Kill him," Morgan said darkly.

"Yes--what?" Kusta froze.

Morgan looked at the cold corridor, grinding his teeth. His tone sent chills down the spine.

"Next time, if he appears like that again, we kill him together."

Kusta blinked.

"Are you insane?"

Morgan bared his teeth, killing intent overflowing.

"No. I am serious."

Kusta took a deep breath and looked left and right.

"No--Lady Harvest and Sunset Goddess above, why?"

Morgan snorted coldly.

"Because, at the distance we discovered him," the veteran's eyes were sharp, "it was enough for him to kill us."

Kill us?

"Ha, haha. By Thornland, I really fucking cannot believe this." Kusta was both bewildered and unable to keep from laughing. "Fine. We kill that old man, then how do we explain it? Because he said we, mm, cannot catch mice?"

Morgan nodded. He still stared fixedly at the corridor, as if there were some threat there.

"Correct."

"And he is that mouse. That damned mouse."

Kusta looked confused.

"Insane. Insane." The Thorn man tried several times, but finally gave up thinking and sighed. "You and him. You are both insane."

Lady Harvest above, if there was a next time, he would rather stand guard with that disabled mute.

Damned mouse.