---

The back of his right hand should already be facing Linceleste the moment he was in her sights. Evidently the spikes aren't skewering it anymore, neither present were any wounds they would have left. In their place were indented scars, spots of thin skin slightly paler than himself.

『 Ludvig 』 "I'm fine. See?"

"I assumed you use healing magic to recover it fast. That will do." Linceleste seemed to be convinced by Ludvig's treatment of his wound. Magic or treating it physically still leaves a mark because a new tissue has grown back differently from the original one. It was a stab wound rather than a first layer of skin had been damaged; marks are expected.

Linceleste accepted the offer of Ludvig. Having the boiled milk in her hands. She stared at the hot milk and ignored the phrase about him having to accompany her for the further time alone in the current room. After that, she took a sip, savoring the taste of the milk. It seemed fine.

"Leans back onto the cupboard. Takes a final, huge sip from his cup of coffee.

『 Ludvig 』 "You definitely have your mother's hair. Not her eyes though, hers were a lot more... striking."

At that, Linceleste stared at the man as he mentioned her appearances and her mother.

"Most of my siblings have my mother's hair color and our eyes from my father," she replied. "You know my mother?" She continued by asking.

Hmm.

Ludvig placed the magically cleaned cup set back in the cupboard he took them from, while he mulled over how he'd go about answering the question.
And then, it clicked in his mind. The most efficient solution for him.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Uhh... I believe I'm somewhat of an unreliable narrator... Maybe that's something Adele should tell you herself."

Walks towards Linceleste, right arm reaching past her and towards the three iron spikes and the torn rag that began disappearing upon touch. His shadow casts entirely upon her for a moment.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Think of it as an opportunity to bond. I'm sure you two don't get a lot of those.
Should also be extra motivation for you to stay alive. Yes?"

Winks at her with a smile that visibly, immediately fades as soon as his glance moves away from her, along with his whole body, already heading for the door out.
Waves his right hand, not bothering to glance back at her.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Good night, señorita York."

_{A little while more...}

He sighed.
Lying down on the leftmost third row of the church benches on the building's main hall. Knees hanging over the armrest, left arm pillowing her head as he raised his right hand amidst the rays of moonlight emitting from stained glass windows.

Didn't really feel like sleeping with everyone else in the communal dormitory, especially with the stunt he did just pull.
Plus, he's been homeless for too long that he'd definitely fail to sleep peacefully on bed cushions.

It's all better this way. He had no regrets.
Not one.

Carmen was leaving, and if there's time to grill him for more information in private it had to be now. Mirielle finished what little left of her soup in two big gulp, muttering a small prayer of thanks before getting up much quieter this time. The witch's pointed words weren't lost on her, though she never regretted preparing to outright leap over the table to stab her with a butter knife should the retribution be disproportionate. And it would take more than some unverified statements to shake her conviction.

"Do not presume to lecture me, witch. I know well the Order is not perfect. But for all its fault, the world will be a darker place without it." Was this the angle? Try to make her doubt her trust? If so, the witch had chosen the wrong target to needle. "Have a good evening, and stay out of trouble."

With that, Mirielle briskly strode after her once junior.

---

“Well then. I guess this was as good a start as any as far as ice breakers go.” said Osric, “myself included. I admit I have some apprehensions on how the mission is going to go. But at least we have some good company. If nothing else, I need to make more of a connection to Amanita. This wine is delicious. If it weren’t for our early start, I’d pour myself another glass.” Osric finished whatever food and drink he had left before picking up his rifle he left leaning against his chair. He turned and sat back down preparing to finish his inspection.

“At the very least, it feels more like a merc group. With everyone wary of each other, but the end goal keeping us together. I don’t know, with how reverent the church is an all, this makes it feel a little more down to earth. It has a certain charm to it, and brings some comfort. I’m sure Ludvig could agree if he were here. How about you, Rezello? This feel like those carefree camaraderie from missions in your past?”