The heart of squire George Dorn was filled with excitement.
"Look, look, this arrow was shot by me." George flaunted his achievement to his companion Gregory. "The arrow hit this bat right in the chest haha, so accurate! I have to admire myself!"
"It's a demon bat, not just any bat. Butler Sebas calls it the 'Steam Demon Bat' because it spews steam. Have you seen a bat that spews steam before?" Gregory corrected him moodily.
"I've only seen steam coming out of a pot." George said laughingly, "Whatever it is, I hit it anyway."
"I remember it was your fourth arrow," Gregory remarked disdainfully, "Four arrows just to hit one, what's there to show off about? I think you can only handle the chickens in the castle at most!"
George didn't mind his companion's sarcasm because he saw unmistakable envy in the other's eyes. The young man, the same age as himself, contributed nothing in this combat and naturally disapproved of his current triumph.
