"We're here to relieve you, on Lord Fujero's orders," Riclo said, neither servile nor overbearing. A faint, slightly stiff smile touched his face.
But in the pitch-black night, lit only by torches, no one would notice such a detail.
"Why haven't I received any orders?" Belle remained cautious. Even though defending the wall was torturous, he wasn't in a rush to hand over his post.
There was no issue with the man's identity. Between his face and the distinctive features of a soldier from the Martel Family's Thorn Corps, it was impossible to be mistaken unless he were blind.
It was just that his long years of military life had made him habitually adhere to regulations.
"Actually, this is the result of a decision just made by Lord Damon and Lord Fujero. We rushed over as soon as we heard the order. The messenger should be here shortly."
Riclo said with heartfelt sincerity, "This is all so you fellas can get a hot cup of tea and a warm meal as soon as possible."
