- Couldn't you have lied and said it was your travel soup? - Faiblup shared his thoughts with his comrades.

- Talkative soup belongs on the fire, - Zeikin slapped the bucket.

- He doesn't really look like a count, he's more like some kind of barber or even a carpenter, - he commented on the appearance of Count May'bullier.

- If you knew who you resembled, - Zeikin reprimanded the mush.

- By the way, have you heard the story about the old, childless carpenter who, out of loneliness, lost his mind and carved a doll out of wood, the size of a small child?

- No, I haven't heard it, but my mother used to cut figures out of jelly with a knife, - Zeikin threatened the paste with his fist.

He somehow thought he could bring it to life. But where has it ever been seen that wood comes to life, and even gains intelligence?!

- The same can be said about this goo, - Zeikin retorted.

After all, when he was young, he could have carved himself children out of a woman, and that would have been it. So this is not only a funny, but also an instructive story for people.

- And you, when you were young, could have taken a solid form, and that would have been it, - Zeikin was offended for the old man.

- Well, big guy, what do you think, did I say this to everyone present or just to you?

- I'm thinking about what temperature the jelly burns at on the fire, - Zeikin shook the bucket to teach the liquid villain a lesson.

- Go north? She's probably already dead, and so is that detective. These acrobats are probably from some kind of cult, and they found themselves a victim. Maybe the goal was the future child, not the girl.

- You know a lot about human children, have you eaten them? - Zeikin grumbled at the alien's self-assured statement.
Amidst all these squabbles, he missed the moment when he could have stood on a stool in front of the recruiter and told the story of his life, so at the moment of introduction, he simply nodded and mumbled his name.

- T-thank you. I-I will be glad to help.

Frowning and folding his arms across his chest, Zeikin looked the nun up and down. At first glance, he should have been happy: being almost the only true believer in the squad - of course, those who professed vague local beliefs could not be fully called that - he often felt spiritually alone, and understood better than anyone that their group needed divine support, which had also helped him in the worst years of his life. But the presence of such a servant in a mercenary gang could provoke an endless number of problems - both from the outside and from within.
"Where are your Knights?.." - he thought with a sigh. - "This will be tiring."