"Makes sense."
Soren Phoenix pinched his nose, shooting a disgusted glance at the black, bubbling medicine in the pot. "This stench is even worse than The Old Shaman's feet. I bet it tastes so bitter that those beastmen will be wailing for their mothers in a minute."
The Old Shaman's face turned dark at once, but he knew what Soren was like. He rolled his eyes and was first to leave the courtyard, too lazy to bicker with this phoenix-chicken.
When he reached the gate, something struck him. He turned back, grimacing at the lumps of pig dung scattered across the yard, his wrinkled face full of disgust.
He shouted at a random beastman in the courtyard, "Don't forget to clean up the yard later. And that wild boar—get it back to the pigsty."
After that, he left with his hands behind his back.
The Priest stroked his white beard with a smile, saying nothing. He just quietly kicked a suspicious clump away from his feet and wiped his shoes on the wall.
