"Why not?" Arthur shrugged, "I've been fighting all my life, it's time to find a different way to live. It's quite nice here, quiet and comfortable, suitable for retirement."
Ariana took a bite of the roasted meat and mumbled, "So are you going to cook for us every day after this?"
"That won't do." Arthur shook his head, "You can eat, but habits shouldn't be spoiled. You must remember, some things shouldn't be touched lightly."
As he said this, his expression was serious and his tone was firm, as if he wasn't talking about wine but imparting some kind of life philosophy. Ariana and Ian exchanged smiles but did not comment further.
The night deepened, and the warm yellow light in the tavern spilled onto the table, the air filled with the aroma of roasted meat and a faint fruit scent. Ian and Ariana each held a cup of freshly squeezed juice and sat across from King Arthur, eating hot roasted meat while chatting about their recent experiences.
"Anyway, I don't know how to go back now."
Ian was talking about his experiences in reality, and as he looked down at the roasted meat in his hand, he suddenly felt a bit nostalgic. He looked up at the window, the town lights twinkling, like stars fallen to the human world.
However.
This place was not the human world.
The outline of the distant forest appeared hazy and mysterious under the moonlight.
"There will be a way."
King Arthur seemed to be reaching the limits of his knowledge, as he was not a wizard, and for things even wizards hadn't heard of, he certainly felt a bit of a knowledge gap.
Of course.
It could also be pretense.
No one can unravel the true thoughts of this king.
Speaking of lying.
Every king is an expert.
"There's still a few hours left." He said softly, as if to himself, as to his companions.
Ariana blinked: "Do you want to go see Teacher Morgan?"
Ian nodded: "Yeah."
King Arthur did not stop him, just gently patted his shoulder: "Go ahead, she may be strange, but she's always been kind to you."
"I know that, which is why I want to bring her some roasted meat, hoping she can help me find the way home." Ian stood up and finished the last of his juice.
He waved goodbye to the two.
After leaving the tavern.
He walked down the familiar path into the forest.
The warmth and laughter of the town gradually fell behind, the air around him grew cold, with leaves rustling in the breeze, the earth beneath soft and damp, every step filled with the scent of nature.
Crossing through the forest, the clear boundary line appeared before him.
To the left was a sunny world, to the right, a gloomy and dark castle domain.
Ian took a deep breath and stepped across the boundary.
Instantly, the temperature dropped, and part of the surrounding light seemed to be swallowed. Ahead, that gray ancient castle stood quietly on the hill, like a watcher who has slept for a thousand years.
He walked up the stone steps.
Into the high platform.
The ancient giant dragon still slumbered outside.
Its body almost occupied the entire range of the platform, scales shimmering with the cold luster of obsidian, breathing with the scent of sulfur and death.
Just as Ian approached, the dragon's nostrils suddenly sprayed a stream of sulfur-scented hot air. An amber-colored vertical pupil slowly opened and locked onto him.
"Oh..." The dragon's voice was like muffled thunder from the depths of the earth, "How many dragons have you killed?"
Ian was puzzled: "What?"
The dragon propped up its forelimbs, shaking off the moss and dust on its body, its huge head coming close to Ian, nostrils flaring: "There's the scent of dragon blood on you... very ancient, very powerful."
Unexpectedly, not only is King Arthur a dog nose.
Here is also a dragon nose.
Ian wanted to say something.
"Are you trying to collect twelve dragons to establish the legend of the Dragon Slayer?" The ancient giant dragon was not angry; it merely approached Ian curiously.
What it said touched upon Ian's knowledge blind spot.