Upon hearing the sonorous yells from the mill, an 'as expected' thought flashed through Gawain's head; then he led the others to hurriedly run forward.
The doors of the mill were pushed open and the sunlight outside spilled into this dim place. In between the bright band of sunlight and the shadows of the stacks of rice straw, Sir Byron reclined crookedly while still shouting noisily in his resonant voice. "If you were my chamberlain, I would definitely kick your stupid head! You brainless little rascal! Do you not want your life! You— Duke?!"
Sir Byron finally adapted to the light that suddenly shone in. He turned his head and looked towards the doors. A big and tall figure stood in that bright background; then his figure walked in, followed by three other people.
The little mute was the last one to enter.
