Chapter 153 felt a little dissatisfied.
but……
Although he didn't suffer much actual harm, the wounds were necessary.
Behrfinger crouched in the corner, chin in hand, deep in thought.
Do you want to inflict more wounds on yourself?
It breaks my heart!
Behrfinger frowned, looking troubled.
He sighed silently, glanced at the scene after the 'gang fight' ended, stood up and slipped back to the center of them, then instantly assumed an injured state.
The members grinned maliciously, "Didn't you say you were pretty good back in Japan? How come you can't even dodge the attacks of a few of us here?"
They remained completely silent about Martell not allowing Asti to retaliate, and their group was reduced to just 'a few people' in their words.
Behfinger, clutching his 'stabbed' arm, ignored their words and left the training room.
"Are we really okay doing this?"
People who ask this question are either afraid of Asti's retaliation afterward, or they didn't participate in the action.
"What's there to be afraid of? Isn't Boss's tacit approval of Lord Martell's actions a test? Even if he is truly loyal to Boss, he wouldn't attack us without Boss's orders. And if he isn't loyal... then his only fate is death!"
The blond, brown-eyed man who first mocked Asti spoke with a cold laugh, without any restraint.
The person who raised the question fell silent, firstly because he felt the man was right, and secondly because he saw no need to pity someone unrelated to him.
Who knows if his sympathy will implicate him?
Back in his cramped room, Behefinger cast a spell on the monitor as usual, then pulled up his hood, took out a short sword, and brandished it at his arm. His already innocent face was now contorted with worry, making him look even more pitiful and endearing.
"To stab or not to stab? To stab or not to stab?"
Just as he was caught in a dilemma, a white figure appeared out of nowhere in front of him.
Behrfinger looked up, immediately dropped his short sword, and rushed over with tears in his eyes, "Aww! Alex!"
Alex caught him, his cold gaze sweeping over the clattering short sword tossed into the corner, before he subtly and quickly furrowed his brow.
"What are you doing?" Alex asked, his tone still cold.
Behffinger rubbed the warm, white wings behind him, crying out, "They were so mean! A whole group of them ganged up on me! And that horse wouldn't even let me fight back! I'm so pitiful!"
The more he talked, the more tears streamed down his face.
Behrfinger: "..."
If he could protest before being created, he would have desperately demanded that the creator remove his incontinence-inducing-tears buff! Remove it!!! Ah!!!
I feel a little dissatisfied with myself.JPG
“Hmm.” Wiping away his tears with his gloved hand, Alex responded softly, then plucked a feather from his wing and placed it in his hand. “Use this, and I’ll take care of them.”
After saying that, he vanished in a flash.
Behringer looked down at the feather, which was still slightly warm in his hand, and fell silent.
Ouch, that hurts.
After gathering the feathers, Behefinger picked up the short sword from the corner and put it into his magic pocket.
After leaving his room, Alex concealed himself and went to the room of the person who had dealt the most severe blows to Behffinger. Looking at the man laughing heartily, Alex produced a three of hearts playing card in his hand.
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