Perhaps sensing Yuri’s boredom, Maria often brought back curious trinkets.
A jumble of strange plants. Vibrantly colored, unknown stones.
Human delicacies, clothes, tiny ornaments. Or exquisite gadgets crafted by gnomes and dwarves.
But never—never—a living… no, half-dead human.
Though his life force was faint, the blood-smeared youth before them still clung to a breath.
Left alone, he’d likely perish any moment.
Ordinary humans meant nothing to her. Yet for reasons of her own, Yuri didn’t want him dying so easily.
Don’t forget: a barrier here repelled all living things.
Maria’s free passage was already baffling. They’d never unraveled why.
And this man…
“I found him within the barrier at the castle’s front gate, Lord Akat,” Maria reported.
“Oh?” Yuri crouched beside the stranger, poking his stiff, unyielding face. “Revive him first. A rare guest. Such an alluring scent would be a shame to waste.”
Rising gracefully, she sealed his fate with a few words.
If he held secrets, good. If not… a mobile blood bank would suffice.
After all, his body radiated an intoxicating sweetness.
Maria bowed slightly. “Of course, your will.”
“Replace this carpet later. And clean him thoroughly.”
Snapping from the scent’s allure, Yuri’s neatness obsession flared. She frowned slightly.
Maria nodded, hoisting the youth one-handed toward a guest room.
Only Yuri and Maria lived here. But Maria kept every room spotless.
This youth was their first guest.
As Maria tended to him, Yuri idled again.
Yet she sensed it—she’d leave this place soon.
“The key… huh?”
Twirling her golden hair, Yuri’s face stayed calm, betraying no emotion.
After a long pause, she chuckled softly and retreated to her room.
Meanwhile, obeying Yuri’s order, Maria wasted no time.
Expressionless, she studied the youth on the bed. A spell reduced his clothes to ash.
If you thought she’d blush—you’d be dead wrong.
This icy maid felt nothing. Even ordinary folk wouldn’t react strangely to a mangled corpse.
Dozens of wounds marred his body—shallow and deep.
The worst gaped on his chest, shoulders, lower abdomen.
Like a torn doll, his flesh hung raw and gruesome.
A human surviving this? Near-miraculous.
Had he not stumbled into the castle’s barrier, he’d be dead—not a miracle.
“Humans…”
Maria fell silent, watching him. Her power killed. It never saved.
“You’re lucky.”
His breaths grew fainter. Without aid, he’d be lost.
Yuri’s command forbade his death. For now.
Hiss!
A faint red glow flashed. A cut split Maria’s fingertip.
Blood dripped, unstoppable, onto his wounds.
Once all fatal cuts were stained, she wiped her finger—the wound vanished.
Without hesitation, she slammed her palm onto his chest!
Pfft!
Eyes shut tight, the youth vomited a gush of dark, clotted blood.
Maria frowned slightly at the sight. To her, it reeked like rotten fish.
She inhaled sharply, crushing the urge to burn him to ashes. Her eyes flared crimson.
The blood in his wounds glowed the same red.
Torn flesh knit together visibly. Shallow cuts scabbed over.
A soft glow gathered in Maria’s palms, enveloping the youth.
Soon, the massive wounds nearly healed.
Pale-faced, Maria lowered her hands. The red light faded.
...
Zuo Yuan slept deeply—so long he lost track of time.
As awareness returned, sharp aches jolted him awake.
“…Not dead?”
His sore eyes opened. That was his first thought.
Captured? The next idea surfaced.
Logical. He’d teleported away using a special item, but barely escaped.
Capture was expected.
How he endured—even fled—baffled him. Where did that willpower come from?
Yet he lived. His injuries felt mostly healed. So…
Unexpectedly, his vision held no prison cell or gloom.
Instead, lavish decor dazzled him—a man used to mansions felt overwhelmed.
Do prisoners need such luxury?
Every wound on his body was cleaned, wrapped in fresh bandages.
His pursuers would never show such care.
As Zuo Yuan pondered, a click sounded. The sealed door swung open.
“Hm? Awake?”
A beautiful woman entered, glancing at him indifferently. His waking held no surprise.
Before he could react, she strode to the bedside.
Her fingers, faintly glowing red, rested gently on his forehead.
“Recovering well. But stay still for days. Your death wouldn’t matter—though Lord Akat might be troubled.”
Zuo Yuan: “...”
