"That's considered a convenient internal convention."
The Elf Captain raised the rough wooden cup filled with amber-colored wine, nodded knowingly, and showed a relieved expression.
"I see, I understand."
He took a big gulp of the wine, smacked his lips, and indeed didn't delve further into the issue.
The Star Realm is vast and full of wonders, with various strange races and phenomena emerging endlessly. In comparison, the Night Watchers' internal naming conventions are indeed not that remarkable.
The two sat down in the tent, drinking the Night Watchers' self-brewed wine with its unique herbal spice, while discussing recent battles and material needs.
After three rounds of drinks, the Elf Captain put down the cup, his expression relaxed, but then turned solemn. He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice.
"Let's talk business. The demon flight squad we encountered on the road was well-equipped and acted mysteriously, not like an ordinary patrol squad.
