"Sidlifa, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Is there any danger over there?"
"No... well, a little bit, I can handle it."
"Has your identity been questioned?"
"Well, no... I mean, what could they doubt? After all, I do have Otterville blood."
"How do you feel about the Otteville family?"
"It's terrible. They are all guys with muscles on their brains. Ask, do you remember the gladiators we met in the Constantinople Hippodrome?"
"I remember that our team's captain was called Theotis, and he seemed to be causing trouble for us all the time."
"It's not us, it's you, Ask. These Normans are a hundred times worse than Theotis. I can tolerate Theotis, but I can't tolerate them. It's hard to imagine that they are actually my brothers and sisters."
"Really? I can't imagine what a fellow a thousand times worse than Theotis would be like."
"It's probably like if he stands in front of you, your fist will automatically fly up to his face."
"Hahaha, that's really annoying."
The two of them soon started chatting and laughing, without mentioning any embarrassing words such as "What, so you are this kind of person" or "Since you know everything, I won't pretend to be a naive person anymore."
Nothing happens, nothing happens.
Medea felt something was wrong when she heard this. Why did it seem like Sidlifa was being liked more by the captain
Oh, maybe he usually creates a silly and cute image, and then suddenly improves his IQ, which makes Ask feel a bit of a strong contrast and surprise, thus leaving a deeper impression
Oh my, I didn't realize, Sidlifa, you are such a scheming person.
"Okay, that's all for today..." Sidlifa was about to talk to Ask about how terrible last night's dinner was, but she heard Medea suddenly say that, and then the communication was ruthlessly cut off.
Sidlifa: ...
snort.
She sneered a few times and looked at the loser Norman who was still rolling on the ground and wailing.
Annoying flies.
Medea, one day you will understand that you can't keep a man by such tricks.
Sidlifa walked forward indifferently, passing these fallen guys.
Then, she saw her father, the demigod Robert the Cunning Fox, standing beside the arch of the porch, looking at her with cold eyes.
"Is this the nth wave of provocateurs you have dealt with, Sidlifa?" Robert said in a deep voice, his beard trembling. "You should kill a few of them in the process of defeating them, so that no one will dare to offend you again in the future."
Sidlifa said nothing, her right hand on the axe handle at her waist.
"Your martial arts are very strange." Robert continued, "It seems wild, but it is actually delicate, and it carries a certain kind of calculation that is unique to the Byzantines. I don't know who taught you this set of martial arts, but if you only focus on those trivial tactics, you will suffer a great loss when you encounter a truly cruel war."