"Why hasn't Ilot shown up yet? Couldn't something have happened to him?" Komer, seeing that the other party had given in, quickly changed the subject.
"What could have happened to him? He sleeps until almost lunchtime every day, and in the afternoon, if he's not wandering the streets looking for trouble, he's bumming around in bars. I think he has truly forgotten that he's about to be kicked out just like us. Unless he actually plans to go back to the Mogan Plateau to be a scapegoat?" Puber complained dissatisfied.
"Hmph, the Mogan Plateau isn't so easy to get by in. Maybe it has been calm for the past two years, but does that mean it'll always stay that way? The beastmen are not kind masters. The illusion of wealth and a good life has always been their biggest motive. Under the drive of such a motive, to come out unscathed already requires the blessing of the gods. Just look at how many decrepit castles sit on that line of defense and the bones littering the countryside, and you'll know how much flesh and blood of the soldiers from the Kingdom of Nicosia has been poured into this bottomless pit over the past hundred years. Once those fortresses are breached by the beastmen, the only end waiting for them is death."
Over three years of exile had aged Komer's youthful face with a touch of vicissitude and led him to realize many harsh truths.
"Sigh, do we really only have these two paths to choose from?" Puber was also somewhat frustrated, possessing neither a strong physique nor the talent for martial practice. Perhaps being a minor Administrative Officer and muddling through life was the best he could hope for, but he always longed for a miracle to change what seemed to be his predetermined fate.
"Let's see, perhaps the God of Fate sometimes looks kindly upon us unfortunate souls. I don't want to be scorned here in Cyprus City. If I have the chance, I'd rather go out and strive for something."
Komer's words carried a double meaning, and his complex gaze wandered towards the south. The setting sun cast a series of golden glimmers across the sea outside the harbor, and the changing colors and shapes of the clouds under the sunlight were quite spectacular.
But Puber, full of his own thoughts, didn't catch the implications of his words, thinking that Komer was still trying to avoid this place that saddened him.
"Fate? Will the God of Fate really favor us?" Puber asked blankly. "I'm a practical person. We'd better not pin our hopes on such elusive dreams."
A heavy tread resounded at the entrance of the bar, and Ilot's robust figure appeared at the door. He caught sight of his two companions already seated by the window, snapped his fingers at the bartender, gestured towards the Lanfenwode Tequila on the bar, and then sat down next to them.
"I'm late. I heard some news that hasn't even made it onto the newspapers yet." Taking the large glass the waiter brought, he took a hearty sip and smacked his lips in satisfaction before Ilot gruffly spoke.
"Enough with the excuses. Look at your shoulder, the strap of your leather chest piece is torn. Who doesn't know what you're like? Where've you been fighting this time?" Puber did not take his explanation seriously and raised his glass for a big gulp.
Only then did Ilot awkwardly look at his broken shoulder strap and scratch his head in embarrassment, puffing up, "Puber, give me some face, will you? Right after the Boss comes back, you out me right to my face. That's not very cool, is it?"
"Hmph, you still have the nerve to say that. If you know what you're doing, then you ought to correct yourself. Indulging yourself like this does you no good," Puber refused to yield. "You're soon to have your coming-of-age ceremony. Do you plan to continue living such a confused and muddled life even after you're of age?"
"What can I do about it? Puber, I'm not like you. I don't have your talents. Just looking at those financial reports and administrative tasks gives me a headache. I guess my only way out is to lie in the streets as a beggar, or go to the frontier battlefield and become a skeleton," Ilot replied, his voice filled with dejected self-mockery.
"Hey, Ilot, what's wrong? You seem off today?" Komer immediately sensed something amiss.
"Just now, when I was playing cards with the Duke's House Steward's son, I heard that there's been fighting up north again. The beastmen have breached the northernmost stronghold. Three castles fell, more than eight hundred soldiers died, along with one Viscount and two Barons. Among them was the fortress where I once served. It seems my comrades have all paid their loyalty to the kingdom with their lives."
Ilot's face showed a rare pained expression, his voice tinged with sadness. Remembering his comrades who by now had turned to dust, just mere months apart, forever gone, including a superior he deeply respected.
"Oh?" Komer and Puber were both taken aback.
The north had been quiet for several years, and although everyone from top to bottom in the kingdom hoped to maintain a peaceful coexistence with the beastmen on the Mogan Plateau, it seemed to be a fantasy. They could never understand why those seemingly foolish beastmen refused to keep peace with the kingdom, stirring up a storm from the south every few years. For the kingdom's dignity, every war always demanded the precious lives of countless valiant warriors.