Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, a figure seemed to approach slowly in his hazy vision.
He was instantly startled awake, scrambled to his feet, and warned his companions, "Get up! The patrol is here."
The Mercenaries, who had been loafing around just a moment ago, immediately scrambled to their feet, grabbed their nearby weapons, and began pacing back and forth on the wall, feigning vigilance.
When the Blood Race noble in the dark red formal suit approached, the Mercenaries all bowed, saluting respectfully. "Greetings, Lord Casimir!"
"Mm."
Casimir glanced at them, seemingly unconcerned by their laziness. He paused for only a moment before continuing on, circling a pile of rubble and patrolling carelessly along the wall.
'As if he didn't already know what these Mercenaries were like.'
'Lazy, greedy, with no discipline to speak of.'
'If a real fight broke out, they'd definitely be the first to drop their weapons and run.'
But he didn't care.
