The king thought. He had just been asked a question in a formal setting, witnessed by countless people. Although the procedure had been unconventionally skipped, as the king, he could not refuse to answer.
He looked straight at Patrick and spoke. "The words of a king carry a weight different from others. If a champion of the Arcana emerges from our kingdom, I will grant any of their wishes to the best of my ability.”
At the king's words, Patrick smiled brightly and said. "I have heard Your Majesty's solemn words well.” 'I hope you don't go back on your word later…'
He had received a confirmation in front of countless witnesses. Patrick's motivation now soared to the heavens. 'I'll pull out the very pillars of this damn kingdom.'
The problem was that it was in a strange direction. After bidding farewell to the king, Patrick and his companions made their way out through the central avenue of White Town. To send them off, the citizens of the capital came out, cheering and seeing them on their way.
"Waaaaaah!"
"Waaaaaah!"
"Waaaa... cough cough... Waaaa...."
They did cheer, but it was rather...
"Are they an Orc tribe?"
'Uwoooargh!' had just turned into 'Waaaaaah!' The cheers were so consistent that they made him feel homesick. How should one put it?