"What do you think about that kid?"
Across a small round wooden table with an old lamp placed on it, Culgan tilted his goblet and asked.
Cinniuint raised her brows, as if puzzled, before answering.
"What do you mean, how? From the looks of it, he must have been thrown here by an accident with transfer magic from some nearby town or facility. It's indeed rare, but not impossible, right?"
"Oi, stop playing games with me already. I'm asking for your real opinion."
"Ugh, I told you to call me Captain while we're here! But, well… yes, there are many strange things. First, his clothes."
As she refilled her cousin's empty goblet with amber-colored liquor, the golden eyes, tinted red by the reflection of the lamp flame, blinked softly.
Her gentle and feminine voice carried on slowly as she spoke.
