"Hehe…" In the carriage, the muddled grandmaster Philip suddenly woke up. He widened his burnt eyes. The corners of his eyes tore apart and bloody tears flowed out. As if suddenly recovered from his injured state, he sprang up from the straw. The bloody crusts stuck with straw were ripped. Viscous blood seeped from the wounds.
"Grandmaster?" Colt was overjoyed. He pointed at the black dot in the sky that was about to disappear. "Hurry—"
But Philip heard nothing. His blood-covered empty eyes stared deep into the wilderness, shooting out white light. Where his gaze fell, the golden-hair boy squatted on the ground with a confused expression. He munched happily on half a toad he had dug out from the dirt…
"Uncle, I think he saw me." He swallowed the other half of the toad.
"Oh." Naberius squatted on a stump and slowly rolled his tobacco with an indifferent expression. "Then let him look."