As the horde of the orcs started coming closer, a plan started forming in my head.
Most of the green bastards were late F-rank, with just the orc leader and one other orc—the one just beside the leader, wearing rough leather armor—being in early E-rank. Probably the orc warrior.
I looked at Bearlo, who had stepped in front of me, wide-shouldered and silent, already in full meat shield mode.
"Bearlo," I said, my voice calm. "Do you trust me?"
That was the only thing I asked without any context or explanation.
Bearlo didn't hesitate. He didn't even turn to look at me.
"Yes, my liege."
Good bear.
My cloak, the drama queen that it was, detached from my back on its own and wrapped itself around Bearlo's. I didn't need to say a word. It knew what I wanted. It always did.
Bearlo didn't react.
