Owing to the fact that Marquiss Cynan had taken his leave, Count Morholt need not be compliant with the social norms. Hayyoth was a mere soldier and someone whose abilities he had yet to recognize. It wouldn't be uncanny if Marquiss Cynan spoke without reservations to him.
"I can feel that my back is moistened by this man's fluids, Grego. If you're in the same situation and you don't find it disgusting, I have no choice but to push the responsibility of carrying two carcasses to you." Marquiss Cynan uttered as he surveyed the dimly lit area of the camp.
There were no tents within several meters from them since the spot was reserved for group training. It would be strange if they erected a tent at the very edge of the encampment. However, they ought to place the Percival brothers somewhere the other soldiers couldn't see.
"A-ah yes! My tent is on the other side of the camp. I only share it with three other soldiers because it's the smallest one."
