188 Saving Lecia 101

"Goddamnit. Not another shirt," Samur sighed exasperatedly.

How many white shirts had he ruined by now? At this rate, half of his salary would go in buying new white shirts.

Perhaps he should get some black, or maybe crimson shirts to use in missions which require him to bathe in blood.

"…"

'His shirt is what he's worried about?' Tristan stared at him dumbfoundedly.

What about the fact that he literally coughed out blood from overexerting himself?

"Anyway, she should be here soon…" Samur rubbed his chin.

According to his calculations, Neia, after sensing the casting of his mighty magic spell, should be making her way towards this hall right now; she would kick that door open in about 10 seconds.

That in itself was fine- he didn't have any right to judge other people's fetishes. The problem was that she would scream something like, 'Samur! *insert a random quote here*'.