"This is the last time. Will you step aside or not?"

"This is my last time too. I won't step aside!"

Mirantha locked eyes with Fiona, who met her gaze without flinching, her eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

After a moment, Mirantha lightly slashed Fiona's shoulder blade with her sword, leaving a small wound.

"This is punishment for defying His Majesty the Emperor."

With that, Mirantha sheathed her blade and turned to leave.

"Lady Mirantha, aren't we searching this house?" a soldier asked.

"I trust someone with such a resolute gaze wouldn't harbor imperial criminals."

"But... what if—"

"Are you questioning my judgment?"

"N-no... I wouldn't dare."

"Then search elsewhere."

"Yes, sir."

Hearing Mirantha and the soldiers fade into the distance, Wenwu and Silver finally relaxed their tense nerves.

Only when their voices vanished completely did Wenwu dare to peek through a corner of the curtain.

Sure enough, Mirantha was gone. The village had returned to its usual quiet calm.

"Why are you up? Your burns are severe—you need rest," Fiona said, entering the room with a hint of displeasure at finding Wenwu out of bed.

Truthfully, the burns might have crippled an ordinary person, but on Wenwu, they seemed less dire—at least to him. After all, he'd pushed through so much since getting injured.

Fiona’s entrance instantly captured Wenwu’s full attention. He’d been unconscious before this; now, it was their first meeting since his reincarnation.

She had short black hair and wore plain, coarse-cloth clothes—nothing flashy. Yet her ethereal beauty and deep, dark eyes held him transfixed.

"Doctor Fiona, what happened to your shoulder wound?" Silver’s question broke Wenwu’s reverie. Earlier, they’d only heard voices, not seen what occurred.

"Oh, this? Nothing. I refused to let the soldiers search, so the knight gave me a small punishment. No big deal."

As she spoke, Fiona grabbed a cotton cloth, smeared herbs on it, and pressed it to the cut. She pulled a chair close to Wenwu’s bed. "Now, be honest—what crime did you commit that the Empire hunts you?"

Silver watched Wenwu, waiting for his reply.

Wenwu hesitated. Seeing Fiona protect him despite knowing he was a fugitive, he decided to tell the truth.

"Huh? I never expected Princess Royal to say that," Fiona murmured after hearing his story.

"Can I ask you something now?" Wenwu said.

"What is it?"

"Why are you helping us?"

"Master, that’s rude," Silver whispered.

After the Desmona incident, Wenwu had grown wary of everyone—anyone could betray him.

Fiona smiled, unfazed. "Two reasons. First: you’re my patient. A doctor protects their patients. Second: you saved my life once. Repaying a debt is only fair."

*Life-saver?* Wenwu glanced at Silver, who nodded firmly.

"Oh, right—I forgot your amnesia. Let me recount that day. It might jog your memory." Fiona settled back. "It was... a year or two ago? Time doesn’t matter. I read about a plant called Dragon’s Blood in an ancient text. Said to revive the dead. Curiosity drove me to find it."

"Things from old books—do they really exist?" Wenwu asked.

"Of course. Hard work pays off. I found it atop a dead volcano. Overjoyed, I didn’t notice the danger until I’d plucked the plant. Then I saw it—a Giant Dragon watching me from the sky."

"A Giant Dragon? This world has such creatures?" Wenwu blurted. Then he remembered: elves, orcs, magic... why not dragons?

"The Giant Dragon roared in fury and lunged. I closed my eyes, ready to die—until someone stood before me. One man. One sword. He blocked the beast."

Wenwu pointed at himself, eyebrows raised.

"Yes. You. You fought the dragon while Silver dragged me to safety. We waited at the foot of the Mountain for hours, terrified you’d die. But you returned—battered, but alive. Surviving a Giant Dragon? That’s a story for a lifetime."

Wenwu felt a pang of shame. His past self had dueled dragons; now, he’d been wounded by his own Sword Spirit.

"Is that Dragon’s Blood plant still here?" he asked.

"Of course." Fiona fetched a transparent jar from a shelf. "Here."

Wenwu wasn’t an expert, but it looked like any ordinary plant to him—just a closed bud. "Haven’t you made it bloom?"

"It’s stayed like this since I brought it back. No growth. No bloom. Later texts revealed it needs Giant Dragon’s blood to thrive." Fiona sighed helplessly.

*I’ll get you some dragon blood*, Wenwu almost said—but the memory of the dragon made him chicken out.

"Enough chatter," Fiona said, standing. "The search wasted time. I have work. Silver, he’s your responsibility now."

"No problem. I’ve got this," Silver said, thumping his chest.

After Fiona left, Wenwu sank back onto the bed.

"Hey, Silver," he murmured. "What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?"