A gust of wind that was mistaken for a woman's sob swept through a corner of the room. Alberish had already begun to move when the final note resonated, and the dwarf was no longer visible in the room. The ongoing sound of metal being struck emanated from behind the office door.
"If the performance is satisfactory, I don't mind upgrading the quality of the meals, and even increasing the profit-sharing ratio," Alberish said.
The shouting of the hammer and the sighs of the bellows suddenly escalated; their rhythm also quickened.
"Is there work that requires my assistance, my lord?"
Nidhogg had already completed his tasks for the morning, but being a creature that was forming a preliminary understanding of his new master, he wasn't expecting any leisure time.
Li Lin indeed had plans in place, just outside of Nidhogg's imagination.
"Go wander outside and make sure to be back before dinner," Li Lin instructed.
"Is…that okay?" Nidhogg asked hesitantly.
"Just don't expose yourself. Watch how human children live, see how they speak and interact. I don't want my 'younger brother', when he recovers in a fortnight, to be clueless and converse with others in the old-fashioned manner. That would be worse than parading you around with a placard that reads 'Black Dragon'," Li Lin responded.
The Dragon Clan's insular nature impeded the efficacy of their shapeshifting ability, rendering it almost useless. No matter how convincingly their external appearances resembled human children, their way of communicating betrayed their much longer lifespan, and the generation gap invariably showed through. Hence, it would be far from ideal to continue attracting strange looks. Meanwhile, their period of convalescence provided ample time for the necessary physical transformation.
Two weeks.
That was the time limit set by Li Lin for this transformation. If Nidhogg lingered any longer, he might arouse dangerous suspicions. On this land, the plague was an assassin far more deadly than warfare. The people who were concerned about their own safety didn't have the luxury to be sympathetic towards sick foreigners. It wasn't unheard of for people to drive away, or even burn the infected.
Nidhogg needed to learn the ways of human society, how to blend in and survive, before such hostile thoughts ever began to germinate. This was imperative.
The door was gently closed behind him. The living room was left with the occasional change in rhythm of miscellaneous sounds seeping out from the office. A casual ray of spring sunshine flowed through the window and through his fingers, falling into the amber iris of his faked human eyes. A shadow swept over his slightly narrowed eyes like a gust of wind.
A squadron of griffins, carrying knights in gleaming armor, broke through the edge of the clouds and soared northeast in the sky; their sharp cries, even from up high, were clearly audible.
The wind rushing into his nostrils carried an aroma. It smelled like the stench of rusting water in gutters, rotting meat, and burned flesh.
This scent, so different from the wild fragrance of survival competition in Ratatostk Valley, reeked of the artificial nature of the actions of the Wisdom Species. This brought back certain parts of his memory.
An unpleasant and non-committal smell gave the illusion of a cold, sneering face passing by the window. The gushing wind, carrying the unpleasantness, also dissipated with it.
Though the wind died and the peaceful scenery replaced it, the land of Welt remained soaked in blood and flames, moving forward in an unfeeling and pitiless manner—
Just like Earth.
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Notes: Pistole: An old coin from 17th-century Spain. It is often mentioned in medieval novels. 1 Pistole = 2 Escudo. In this context, Pistole refers to the medieval gold coin minted in France. 1 Pistole = 16 Sous (the largest unit of copper coin), 1 Sou = 4 Liard = 12 Denier (a unit of money).
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