Charles sized up the two boys. One was dark-skinned with tattered clothing, while the other was tall and thin, covered in bloodstains—a clear sign of how desperate their escape had been.
Although they were close to the outskirts of the Kentish Mountains, there was still a small chance of encountering high-level second-tier mystical beasts. Having two extra people around at night would indeed make things safer.
Charles reached into his backpack and pulled out two sleeping bags. "I've got extra sleeping bags, but there's only one tent, so you'll have to make do on the ground by the fire tonight."
The dark-skinned man waved his hand dismissively. "No problem at all. We haven't eaten all day, so we'll be glad just to have some food. We could cook up some mushroom soup or something."
"By the way, we didn't catch your name," the tall, thin one said with a friendly smile.
"Thomas," Charles replied, giving a false name.
