“You spoiled little brat! Young master, sometimes you just act too carelessly!"
“Give me a break, Thomas. It's bad enough that I have to lay here and feed on those bitter potions. Don't they have anything better-flavored?"
“Flavored ones are expensive. And to be honest, the worse they taste the more you are going to act carefully on the future so that you're not going to be forced to taste them again."
“Hey, Thomas… How do you expect me to get strong enough to avenge Mirild if I don't get into fights myself?"
The old servant couldn't think of a proper answer.
'Good. The guy calmed down a bit.' Josiah thought.
Josiah was laying in his bed. For the next few days after the fight against the vurdum, Josiah could not move due to the wounds in his chest, especially the one made by the stab
