One hundred thirty, one hundred thirty-one... two hundred twenty-eight.
After spotting that slightly suspicious person, Felis quickly reeled in his wandering thoughts and counted the Undead entering the mine, row by row, as though he knew nothing.
What he had not expected was that he had barely counted past two hundred before the Undead had him follow them inside.
Felis did not think the Undead were neglecting his safety.
After all, the woman in front of him was Old School Striking King, who had left a deep impression on him.
Although he still could not quite figure out her class, Felis knew she was quite good at healing.
Someone with formidable combat strength and healing abilities stood in front of him, while every other side was filled with female healers in robes, holding either Magic Books or little hammers... Felis knew the Undead had certainly put him somewhere they considered very safe.
Felis simply did not understand why the Undead had not placed him farther away from that mysterious knight.
He really was a little frightened.
Felis had run the calculations many times. Only by joining the Undead, leaving with them, and even participating in their battles could he maximize his chances of survival, and perhaps gain some benefits as well.
But that did not mean he would still be safe if he became embroiled in the major affairs of the powers behind the Undead.
Why would someone as clever as Felis ever want to do something so dangerous?
After enduring so much hardship and torment, Felis valued his own life above all else.
Even Carpenter, whom he cared about deeply and wholeheartedly wished well, was not more important than his life.
Was knowing that he was still reasonably safe not precisely why he could so calmly choose to distance