Indeed, once the Undead Tribe scattered themselves in groups of threes or twos throughout the forest, they couldn't help but discuss Hill when they saw him sitting by the fountain, lost in thought.
"Hill doesn't seem to be bothered, does he?"
Hill rarely felt this satisfied with the hearing his Elven Bloodline afforded him.
"Why would he be uncomfortable? He's changed his last name; everyone calls him Polanio. Besides, his shameless father is already dead. According to the rules of this world, it's his brother who inherited the title of Earl who has to bear this disgust," said the Old Age Striking King as he walked. "That stepmother, at least outwardly, is already dead. Even now that everyone knows what's going on, the nobles will just push it under the rug and not mention it. It's got nothing to do with Hill."
"That's true. It's just like Hill stepped in dog poop!"
"Snow Old Dog hasn't done anything to offend you."
The Undead burst out laughing.
