64: 55.
Battlefield Situation 64: 55.
Battlefield Situation Mr.
Fisher looked down at the manual’s inscribed na for a long while, besides learning the author’s “code na” of the Demi-human Girls Completion Manual, that was all there was.
The only thing he could be sure of now was that there was more than one Completion Manual and the person who created them was definitely not from this world; he might later find more information in Caleb’s Soul Completion Manual, but this required Mr.
Fisher to possess strong soul energy.
After all, other people could not see these manuals, and it wouldn’t be possible to ask Renie for help.
The words Philone left for Mr.
Fisher before his death were also very interesting.
As he was dying, he handed over the manual; back then, Mr.
Fisher was not the owner of the Soul Completion Manual, yet he saw the manual itself and was also cautioned not to tear them up, or else they would be reborn in another place.
These magical artifacts were full of secrets, much like the murals carved into stone walls, replete with legends.
Fermat Baha Dragon Court, huh…
Just how far back in history was that?
A few hundred years?
A few thousand years?
Mr.
Fisher closed both Completion Manuals, this ti he didn’t put them together, placing one on the left and the other on the right to prevent the rejection that had occurred previously.
He pressed down the unthoroughly researched issues for now.
He had already gained a lot today and did not plan to continue.
He turned his head, stood up, and examined the map.
After leaving Philone City, he was not far from his final destination, Krit Port; with the carriage moving fast, it would take two to three days to arrive.
Mr.
Fisher stepped out of the carriage, not realizing he had sat inside for several hours.
His body, covered in injuries, began to ache again, so he went out to get so fresh air.
The few dragon-n were sleeping, and the sun outside was gradually setting, turning the clouds the orange hue of tangerines.
Seeing that they showed no signs of waking up, Mr.
Fisher decided to take so food replenished in Philone City out from the carriage to prepare for dinner.
Those supplies were locked in the fourth room, so they weren’t used this morning.
They had instead casually hunted and roasted ga to eat.
In the fourth room, besides supplies, there were also so weapons, like muskets and saw-edged knives.
He took out the purchased at, as well as firewood and a pot, preparing to make a standard Saint Nali dish for dinner.
It wasn’t for the dragon-n, though; it was for himself.
The dragon-n were satisfied with just at; even though he had followed their diet, he still needed so vegetables and fruits.
After setting up the fire for dinner, Rafael just changed her clothes and ca out, only able to put on the hemp garnts, as the dress Mr.
Fisher gave her was previously dirtied.
She had just finished cleaning up and washed the dress again, which would soon be ready to reuse because dragon-man bodies generate heat—covering the still sleeping Lar with the dress would dry it quickly.
Who could bla Lar for sleeping so soundly?
“What are you doing?”
Rafael glanced at the vegetable soup Mr.
Fisher was simring in front of him and frowned subconsciously, seemingly sensing the aroma of vegetables in the air.
“I’m boiling soup to drink, vegetables can provide so nutrients essential to humans, although I don’t know if dragon-n need them.” Mr.
Fisher continued to simr the soup and suddenly asked Rafael, as if sothing crossed his mind, “By the way, how is your Nali Language study going?”
Rafael sat down beside the fire, hugging her knees, cleared her throat, and began to speak,
“Respected Mr.
Fisher, may I have the honor of inviting you to dance?
Your exquisite figure reminds of the lotus flowers in the pond under the moonlight, so graceful, so beautiful…”
Mr.
Fisher glanced at the proud Rafael beside him, then stirred the soup in the pot,
“Pronunciation six out of ten, vocabulary nine out of ten, grammar eight out of ten, common sense zero.”
“Huh?
Why?”
“That’s the phrase a man would use to invite a woman to dance, you’re female, you’ve got it backward.”
“Who knows why you humans like to dance?
We prefer to call soone down to duel at our feasts.”
“Customs, just show so respect.”
Although he was harsh with his words, he was still astonished by Rafael’s incredible ability to learn.
To grasp a language in just a little over a month was indeed admirable.
“Keep it up, you’re learning very fast.”
“I can understand your writing now, but so pronunciations are strange and I still can’t quite speak them…”
The corners of Fisher’s mouth curved up slightly, clearly understanding her desire to prove herself.
But just as he was about to speak, he seed to realize sothing, and Rafael, too, looked in the sa direction as him.
“Who’s there?!”
The direction was quiet, with only the rustling of so grass.
Rafael stood up and leaped towards it, and as she dived into the bushes, cries of distress followed.
Within a few seconds, Rafael erged, holding a boy covered in fluffy hair, with a pair of spiraled horns on his head.
Her expression was odd as she said to Fisher,
“It’s a sheep-man child…”
The child felt frightened as he dangled in the air, his gaze quickly falling upon Fisher, who was seated by the fire, and the pot of stew that was simring, emitting a delightful aroma.
His throat moved, but fear soon made him lower his head again.
Rafael set him down on the ground, and he imdiately prostrated before Fisher, stuttering timidly,
“So…sorry…Please…spare my life…”
The language was obviously awkward for the sheep-man child, with inaccurate pronunciation.
Rafael couldn’t understand what he was saying, but Fisher took his gaze away as if he understood and explained to her,
“He’s speaking the Schwali language.
He must be one of the demi-humans who fled during the wars initiated by the lords of Schwali…”
Observing the spirited eyes of the sheep-man child, Fisher suddenly recalled an interesting fact.
Many male nobles in Schwali had a fondness for young boys.
It was said that many nobles liked to keep boys in their hos, and over the years of expansion on the South Continent, slave traders found that the sheep-man boys looked quite animated and attractive after being shorn of their wool, and thus many were sold into Schwali.
Indeed, those traders had struck gold.
Soon, sheep-man boys had beco the latest trend among the nobles there, with every male Schwali noble keeping them, sotis even gathering for parties and such.
All humans from the Western Continent looked down upon the demi-humans, seeing them as livestock.
Not a single female demi-human would appear in a won’s institute, and more often than not, they were used as servants.
However, the Schwali nobles, by their own efforts, had managed to break this prejudice; whether to admire or…
Fisher refrained from making a judgnt, only adding one more bowl of stew to his own and turning to speak to the child in Schwali,
“Where are you from?
Do you have anyone with you?”
The boy just stared blankly at Fisher, afraid to move, his hooves quivering behind him as if he was terrified.
It seed he had only learned a word or two of the human language in his desperation to survive.
Fisher scooped another bowl of stew and set it before the boy, who was initially very wary.
But hunger would not allow him to wait any longer.
He glanced at Fisher and then greedily embraced the bowl, guzzling the soup even as it burned his mouth, careful not to waste a single drop.
“The demi-humans’ war has been lost.
Now, it appears that many of them might be migrating this way.
Let’s leave this place first thing tomorrow morning and continue heading north.”
Rafael watched the sheep-man child chewing on the vegetable leaves, then looked up towards the far-away setting sun.
A flock of birds, startled, took flight to distance themselves from sothing that had happened at the heart of the battlefield.
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