Qingxiao was a little surprised and raised an eyebrow, then felt it made perfect sense.
Looks like this guy's all brawn too.
"Companions, maybe? Or... friends."
Hajime Kashimo's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Friends.
The word was far too unfamiliar.
Over four hundred years, he had heard "my lord," "the strongest sorcerer," and "monster."
He had heard all sorts of titles spoken in reverence or fear, but no one had ever said "friend" to him.
A faint blush silently crept onto the tips of his ears.
Fortunately, it was dark, and he had just been drenched in the rain. With the moisture hanging around him, it didn't show.
He immediately turned his face farther away, pretending to look at the clouds on the horizon, but his voice lacked conviction:
"Who wants to be your friend? I'm just here to fight."
Qingxiao watched his awkward reaction and chuckled without calling him out.
He went along with it, that familiar, sparkling anticipation rising in his eyes again, like a child eager to unwrap a new toy:
"All right, friends.
Then, as a friend, you ought to let me see your domain the next time we fight, right?"
Hajime Kashimo bristled instantly, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"Shut up! I already told you it's not time yet! Why are you bringing it up again?"
Qingxiao's smile grew more pronounced.
Yeah, he's more entertaining when he bristles.
The two headed out of the Industrial Park.
Water still pooled on the ground, splashing beneath their feet.
Qingxiao walked half a step ahead, with Hajime Kashimo following behind, carrying half a broken iron rod and looking down, his thoughts unknown.
The wind swept over with the damp smell of rust after the rain, stirring the loose hair over his forehead.
"Let's go, Xiaolu,"