As I idly roamed the streets of Diffindor and enjoyed the summer sunshine while everyone else worked so hard with their busy affairs, I felt that this day seemed quite joyous.
Those foolish tin cans wanted to find me? All I had to do was slightly modify the age that my ring displayed, put on some old tattered leather armor, and equip myself with a normal black iron sword, and a downcast-seeming middle-aged mercenary that could be seen anywhere appeared. They could just go ahead and continue searching for that child prince that vanished in front of them.
"What's the matter? You're still in a bad mood? You're that depressed at not being able to watch all of the Axilo troupe's performance?"
The only part that wasn't so joyous was that the cat on my shoulder had a sour expression, as if someone owed her money.
