"It was definitely fifty-seven," Nox said, his voice full of smug satisfaction. "I counted."
Mela looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel. "You did not! There were at least sixty-five of those corrupted boars, and I personally dispatched thirty-three of them with my needles. That means you only got thirty-two."
"Nah," he aid with a lazy shrug. He was having way too much fun with this. "A bunch of yours just ran off with needles sticking out of them. They probably got better. Doesn't count. My kills were clean. One-shot punches to the face."
He looked down at his own fist, admiring it. "Also, thirty-three is a weirdly specific number. You sure you're not just making stuff up to feel better?"
"I am a master of my craft!" she shot back, her voice getting a little too loud. "I know precisely how many I felled!"
'Hook, line, and sinker,' he thought, a grin spreading across his face. 'This is way more fun than just walking in silence.'
