Night had fallen.
Just as Red had predicted, the Scarlet Legion’s supplies were stretched thin—they hadn’t even prepared tents for the four of them.
Fortunately, there were still a few empty tents left behind by evacuated personnel scattered in a corner of the camp.
Otherwise, the four of them would have truly spent the night on the freezing, bone-chilling, damp ground.
That was a torment no human could endure.
With only two tents available, the distribution was self-evident.
Tos and Mason shared one tent, while Red and Letia shared the other.
Red sat cross-legged on a simple mat inside the tent, his thoughts drifting.
Though he and Letia had been teammates in Dawnblade, braving countless dangers together, as he thought carefully… it seemed he had never actually shared a tent with her before.
Even in the most desperate times, when tents were scarce, it was always Litt and the other three women who squeezed together, while he, invariably, stood guard outside until dawn, only snatching a short rest after his companions awoke, before plunging into the new day’s journey.
“Phew~ There sure are a lot of wounded here.”
Letia’s slightly hoarse voice interrupted Red’s memories.
She lifted the heavy waterproof flap and crawled into the tent. It looked as though all the strength had been drained from her, too tired to take another step, collapsing onto her own bedroll with a “plop,” letting out a long, weary yawn.
“I’m dead tired… Took everything I had just to barely stabilize their condition.”
She mumbled with her eyes closed, her voice muffled in the sleeping bag.
Hearing Letia’s words, Red snapped back to himself.
Only then did he notice that the wailing of the wounded outside had disappeared completely at some point, which surprised him a little.
“Even with healing divine arts, it shouldn’t be so instantly effective, right? And… didn’t Brian say they ran out of painkillers and anesthetics ages ago?”
There were indeed medicines, but painkillers and anesthetics were extremely scarce.
It wasn’t that Brian hadn’t prepared any, but in this world, the prices of those two medicines were especially high, so they had only brought a small amount.
“Yeah,” Letia lazily rolled over on her sleeping bag like a lazy cat, her tone casual and unhurried, “there really aren’t any drugs left for numbing pain, but I still have the Ancient Numbing Technique. Of course, there might be some side effects—like forgetting some memories or something.”
Red fell into a brief silence.
He glanced at the huge cross strapped to Letia’s back and seemed to understand.
“Well~”
Letia seemed to see through his inner complaints and waved her hand lightly, as if brushing the matter aside.
“In any case, looking at it from a results perspective, the main thing is that they’re all peacefully asleep now, aren’t they? The whole world is quiet again.”
“I object,” Red’s mouth twitched uncontrollably as he shot back, “I think they’re more like they’ve passed out.”
“Aiya~”
Letia waved her hand again, completely unconcerned, then simply buried her face in the sleeping bag, her voice muffled and heavy with sleep, “Don’t worry about those details! Just admit it, they’ve all obediently closed their eyes, haven’t they?”
“How is that the same!?”
Red finally couldn’t hold back and vented all his inner complaints.
Still, he had to admit, as a Priest, Letia was actually quite dutiful.
She always did exactly what she was paid for—no more, no less.
When she applied to join Dawnblade, she had chosen the Priest class, so most of the time she remained at the rear, diligently acting as the healer, and never bothering with any extra tasks.
Now that he thought about it… he really had done too much during his time in Dawnblade.
Maybe he really should learn a bit of Letia’s easygoing “do only what you’re paid for” attitude.
“Can I ask you about the past?”
Letia had already curled herself deep into her sleeping bag and addressed Red, “If you’re uncomfortable with it, just say so.”
“I don’t really mind,” Red also lay down—of course, he wasn’t miserable enough to sleep directly on the floor; he had his own sleeping bag too, which he wrapped himself in before replying to Letia, “But what do you want to ask? And why specifically about the past?”
“Mm…”
Letia shifted around in her sleeping bag to get more comfortable, her voice unusually clear in the darkness.
“Actually… it’s about you and Liz. If you feel… bringing it up will make you uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to talk about it, just let me know. I won’t push you.”
She gave Red the choice completely and explicitly—no pressure, no urging curiosity, just quiet waiting and genuine respect.
As for why she asked, Letia was indeed quite curious about Red’s and Liz’s history.
More importantly, she thought that maybe, through Red’s past, she could figure out the true origin of the invisible shackle deep in his heart.
She not only had to play the role of “Letia”—but also “Litt.”
Compared to the easygoing “Letia,” it was “Litt” who pulled Red out of his past shadows, healing his heart and becoming his Bright Moonlight…
But why was it called Bright Moonlight?
Letia searched her mind for the script.
If things kept developing this way, Red would most likely end up with Litt.
But the definition of Bright Moonlight seemed to be someone you could never obtain, someone you could only look up to.
There was no clear answer for this question in the script.
While Letia was pondering, Red was stunned for a moment too, then sighed and spoke.
“You… really aren’t quite like you used to be.”
“Am I?”
“Of course.”
Red looked at Letia’s lazy expression.
Her face hadn’t changed at all from before, but she would never have cared so much about others, not even for teammates.
Honestly, the way she used to be… was too distant.
She always smiled and joked, yet never truly got close to anyone.
He remembered how, back then, when he saw her secretly cooking alone, he took the initiative to ask for cooking lessons, just for a chance to get closer to her.
He hoped that, through those moments of learning together, they might bond a little—but… it never worked.
Her heart always kept a great distance from everyone.
“In your eyes, what was I like before?”
“You seemed cheerful, but… very lonely.”
“Then, do you think…”
Letia smiled softly as she heard this.
“Is it possible?”
“What possibility?”
“Maybe, the reason you feel I’ve changed is because… the relationship between us is already different from before?”