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墨書 Inktalez
In the depths of the cave, the flickering light of the campfire illuminated the surroundings.
The green glow gradually faded as Leilin tossed the fifth Healing Scroll onto the ground.
Low-level magical scrolls like this could store only one type of magic at most, and once used, they were rendered completely useless. Moreover, their prices on the market were quite high; after all, anything associated with "magic" could see its price multiply several times over. Yet, many were still willing to pay in gold for them, simply because in dangerous environments, a single magical scroll could prove to be crucial.
"I'm sorry, I'm not a healer. This is all the scroll can do..." Leilin gently wiped away the sweat and glanced at Sharg's bare torso.
Under normal circumstances, Sharg's robust physique would certainly pique Leilin's interest. However, after witnessing the transformation of this werewolf into a frenzy, Leilin dared not entertain any fantasies. Each time she looked at Sharg, her gaze betrayed a hint of fear.
"It's fine."
Sharg draped a black cloth over himself, fully aware of his own condition. After using five Healing Scrolls in succession, he still hadn't managed to rid himself of the toxins within him; some remnants lingered in his veins.
Although it wasn't life-threatening, it posed a troublesome issue for his future training.
Especially concerning Sharg's left eye, which was essentially rendered useless.
Sharg turned his head to look at the unconscious Garen and asked, "How many Healing Scrolls are left?"
"There should be six more!" Leilin replied. "But my magical energy is running low; I need some time to recover..."
Sharg nodded slightly and said calmly, "Use one on him."
"What?" Leilin was taken aback, unable to believe her ears. "Shouldn't we bury him?"
"He is still alive."
Sharg's cold words startled Leilin.
After saying this, Sharg inexplicably let out a self-deprecating laugh.
In fact, as Leilin had pointed out, they should have buried Garen. Under the corrosive effects of the Second Rank poison, even Sharg's Level 6 werewolf Bloodline had nearly perished; how could Garen possibly survive?
Most importantly, the damage Sharg had sustained came from just a drop of Garen's blood! In comparison, Garen, whose chest had been pierced by the Venomfang Blade, was the one who had been poisoned the most severely.
At that moment, Garen's mere state of unconsciousness was already a miracle; in other words, he should have succumbed to death in his coma… not just should have, but inevitably!
To be honest, Sharg actually admired this warrior. In him, Sharg saw a rather clichéd quality—justice. What was most astonishing was that he seemed to embody this quality as if it were entirely natural.
But unfortunately, he was on the brink of death.
"Neglecting him and failing to save him are two entirely different matters," Sharg explained softly.
Leilin paused for a moment, feeling that such an approach was wasteful but unwilling to contradict Sharg. She nodded and cast a resentful glance at Garen. Just then, Leilin suddenly noticed something…
"He… he's speaking!" Leilin exclaimed.
"What?"
Sharg had some doubts about his ears. Given Garen's current state, it was a miracle that he was still alive. Speaking? How could that be possible?
However, when Sharg turned to look, he saw Garen's pale lips indeed moving slightly, as if he were murmuring to himself.
"What a joke... I still have one eye left..." Sharg said, his face filled with disbelief. He then leaned closer, pressing his ear against Garen's mouth.
Though the voice was faint, it was still audible. The deep tone vaguely spoke—Demacia, unwavering...
And also—those who offend Demacia shall be punished, no matter how far...
And—first comes a glint of cold light, then the spear strikes like a dragon...
Finally—Tower, Watchtower...
Perhaps due to the haze clouding his consciousness, Garen's words were incoherent, leaving Sharg utterly confused.
However, Sharg didn't care about the meaning behind those words; his half-wolf mouth gaped open in astonishment.
"What... exactly is he?"
"How can he be so resilient!"
When Garen woke up, Leilin was busy cleaning the corpse of the Three-Eyed Demon Python.
Due to the enormous size of the python, a regular space ring couldn't accommodate it, so they needed to dispose of the worthless flesh and bones. Fortunately, the python's physical defenses were incredibly strong; all it took was intense fire magic to burn away the unnecessary parts, leaving behind the valuable ones, such as scales and fangs.
"You’re awake?" Leilin exclaimed with delight.
Garen weakly propped himself up and asked, "How long was I unconscious?"
"Twelve days," Leilin replied with a smile, then stopped Garen from moving. "You can’t move around yet; it might cause the poison to go out of control!"
Compared to Sharg, Leilin was clearly more willing to engage with Garen. Although that night’s experience hadn’t been pleasant, powerful men were always attractive. In Leilin's eyes, they simply lacked the process of transitioning from love to intimacy.
If Garen was willing, Leilin would be open to "honest encounters" at any time.
"Where did Sharg go?" Garen looked around but couldn’t find Sharg.
"He’s already left," Leilin said, handing him a piece of skewered python meat. "Before he left, he took all of the Three-Eyed Demon Python's teeth with him. He asked me to tell you that he will take these fangs to the city for auction, and the proceeds will be split according to the old rules. So you must stay in Blackstone Town until he returns."
Old rules?
Garen took the python meat and quickly realized that what Sharg referred to as old rules was likely similar to what happened with the Steelback Demon Wolf—an even split.
Even though half a month had passed, the flesh of the Three-Eyed Demon Python remained tender and delicious, oozing golden oil when roasted. Leilin could be considered an experienced adventurer; she skillfully avoided any parts that might contain toxins and cut only the most nutritious portions of the python meat.
Perhaps due to taking care of Garen for twelve days, Leilin didn’t express much surprise at his survival. Thus, Garen was unaware that his physical resistance was indeed a remarkable miracle.
Of course, even if Garen knew, he wouldn't be too surprised; he might even feel a bit angry—he hated being treated like a meat shield!
From Leilin's initial observations, Garen would probably need another twenty days to regain his mobility. After all, the erosion from the Second Rank was quite real. However, astonishingly, the day after consuming the python meat, Garen was able to move around in a small area!
It was only at this moment that Leilin felt the same emotions Sharg had experienced earlier, and it deepened her interest in Garen.
By the fourth day, Garen's injuries had stabilized. Without forcing himself to use his Fighting Spirit, he had returned to the normal physical condition of an adult.
When dusk arrived on the sixth day, Garen found himself back at the entrance of Blackstone Town.
According to their agreement in Serpent's Lair, Leilin would sell the spoils of their hunt, and as for the specific profits, they would wait until after the sale to divide them.
Garen wasn't worried about this at all. If Leilin wanted to keep all the wealth for herself, she should have just left without a word back in Serpent's Lair.
As night fell, Garen finally returned to his familiar Rental Apartment.
Even he hadn't expected that this winter pre-Hunting event would lead to so many complications, consuming nearly half a month of time. During this period, work in town had also been delayed.
Garen turned his head and his gaze fell upon the thick stack of letters at the door.
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