A Slime?
Old Bloom instantly imagined the knight's evil intentions.
He actually wanted to use a weak, helpless Slime to threaten him.
"Shameless! Utterly shameless!"
Old Bloom's voice rose with anger, and even the tip of his pitchfork trembled furiously.
"Little one, don't be afraid. Hurry over to Old Bloom. With me here, this big lug won't be able to hurt you."
Chen Yu had just regained consciousness when he heard that righteous cry.
He raised his eyes, first looking blankly at the skeleton farmer wildly brandishing his pitchfork, then tilting his head up at Arthur's silent figure.
What was this supposed to be now?
"Arthur, did you scare the little ones?"
Arthur clumsily tried to explain himself.
"Your Majesty, I... bear them no ill will."
"He spoke! He spoke!"
A Glimlin hiding behind Old Bloom's trouser leg cried out softly. Its clear amber eyes were full of astonishment, and its fear seemed to have faded just a little.
The other little ones also cautiously poked their heads out.
Old Bloom was stunned as well, his pitchfork-waving coming to a halt.
The soul-fire in his eye sockets steadied somewhat as he scrutinized Arthur again.
This fellow looked rather dull-witted. He indeed didn't seem like one of those lowly undead driven by nothing but the instinct to kill.
Old Bloom lowered his pitchfork.
"Uh... young undead, I don't care which graveyard you crawled out of, but this is Root Language Forest, territory under Lord Viola's protection."
"You'd best behave yourself. Don't even think of causing trouble here, or the Treants' mercy won't fall upon your heads."
Treant Lord Viola?
One of those mysterious beings said to coexist with ancient forests, possessing powerful nature magic and extraordinarily long lives?
And she had taken in skeleton farmers and Glimlins that looked strange at