After the meal, the atmosphere was still delicate.
Silence spread between the two, broken only by the occasional crackle of the firewood.
Finally, Sovinia broke the silence.
She stood up, her movements crisp and decisive, without a trace of hesitation.
She commanded, “Take it off.”
Wohard was taken aback, not understanding.
Sovinia said, “Everything.”
Wohard was even more confused.
“Your wounds need treatment,” she added.
“I need to stitch you up again.”
Wohard finally snapped out of his stupor and stood up.
Sovinia walked over, without any courtesy, and directly helped him.
She crouched in front of Wohard, her face level with his thigh, and skillfully undid the complex belts and buckles, starting to remove his leg armor.
When the last piece of chest armor was removed, the gambeson underneath, soaked with dark red bloodstains, was revealed.
She helped him take off the gambeson as well, until Wohard was completely stripped.
Wohard’s body was a crisscross of scars, old and new layered on top of each other, like a grim map.
The most serious was a deep gash on his shoulder that reached the bone; his collarbone was fractured, and the surrounding muscle was everted.
“I’ll suture you.”
Just like last time.
She began to sew.
The needle pierced his skin, pulling the thread.
As she stitched, Sovinia couldn’t help but marvel at the toughness of this human body.
With injuries this severe, if it were her current elven female body, she would have died three or four times over.
But Wohard, this vicious dog, could endure it.
As long as he got a full meal, a night’s sleep, and battlefield medicine, these life-threatening wounds would scab over by tomorrow, ready for battle again.
Just like she used to be.
But now…
She unconsciously touched her ear.
The wound from her own sword practice was still painful, constantly reminding her of her current frailty.
‘Damn this elven female body,’ she cursed in her heart.
But it was almost over.
As she pulled the last stitch tight, she calculated in her mind.
‘Just endure two more days. At most two days, and I’ll lead this vicious dog to the place where my head is stored.’
‘Then, I’ll stab him in the back without hesitation. His last meal will be stuffed with Manticore Venom, and he’ll eat it unsuspectingly.’
‘He’ll drop cards and relics. I’ll reclaim my head, return to my male body, and escape this cage.’
Before she knew it, the wounds on his upper body were dealt with.
She leaned down to treat another gash on his side.
This movement forced her closer to Wohard.
Her silver hair cascaded from her shoulders like a waterfall, the ends brushing across Wohard’s lower abdomen, sending a cold sensation.
Wohard could smell Sovinia’s unique, chilly scent, a mix of snow and pine needles and the slight saltiness of sweat, spreading with her movements and lingering around his nose.
He looked down at Sovinia’s focused profile.
The firelight outlined her straight nose and tightly pressed lips.
She frowned slightly, her expression serious.
Wohard looked at her and felt that this elf princess radiated brilliance.
In his eyes, she wasn’t treating a dirty wound, but purifying a defiled soul.
Her hands, which should be playing the harp or picking flowers, were now stained with his blood, moving so gently and yet so firmly.
Her beauty transcended race and appearance; it must be a beauty from within, full of compassion and sanctity.
He felt like a beast intruding into a sanctuary, and the goddess herself was cleansing his filth.
Gratitude.
“Miss Sovinia…” he said, his voice hoarse.
Sovinia tied the last knot, cut the thread, then looked up, her golden eyes coldly fixed on him.
“What is it?”
“Thank you,” Wohard said, his voice trembling with an emotion he himself didn’t notice.
“I’m just making sure my guard is still usable tomorrow,” Sovinia replied expressionlessly, standing up and looking down at him.
“Now, sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”
With that, she ignored him, walked to the fire, picked up the Moonlight Blade, and sat down against the wall.
Wohard silently put on his gambeson and lay down on the blanket Sovinia had spread for him.
Fatigue and blood loss plunged him into a deep sleep the moment he touched the blanket.
In the storage room, only the sound of the fire remained.
She placed the Moonlight Blade across her rounded knees, closed her eyes, and began to simulate her card deck in her mind.
‘Tonight’s battle exposed too many problems. The reason it went smoothly was due to good luck—drawing the core card [Evolution+] in the first round, probability about forty percent, and in the second round, fifty percent…’
‘After drawing the core card, I still had to use [Reckless Charge] to stuff [Stun] into the draw pile, then use the effect of [Evolution+] to draw a large number of cards in one turn.’
‘But the problem was that the setup was too slow, and even after completing it, it was hard to play two cards in one turn.’
‘The setup was manageable.’
‘I had a frontline that could withstand pressure, buying me precious time. That was my beheading nemesis, Wohard.’
‘The other problem was cost.’
‘My card draw ability was meant to find key cards: either Reckless Charge, the powerful [Scorching Strike+2], or [Double Strike] for burst damage. But [Scorching Strike+2] cost 2 points of mana, and I only had 2 mana per turn. After using [Scorching Strike+2], I had no mana left for anything else.’
‘Just now, if I hadn’t forcibly squeezed the mana from my body to make up that 1-point deficit under pressure, that sword strike wouldn’t have been possible.’
‘So now, I need to strengthen the “rotation.” Either increase mana or delete cards.’
Sovinia thought, her fingers unconsciously tapping on the cold sword blade.
‘The more I think, the more troublesome it seems. If [Scorching Strike] were a few levels higher, I wouldn’t have to think so much.’
‘But I have to grit my teeth and continue.’
‘In the future, if I could get cards like [Corruption], I could actively delete skill-type cards, or [Energy Conversion]…’
Her mind raced, countless card combinations and tactical concepts emerging, clashing, and being rejected.
‘I’ve already started planning. In future card selections, I should choose cards that enhance the rotation, such as card draw, mana increase, or burning cards. With the stupid dog as a teammate, the future card selection space is huge.’
Wait.
Sovinia snapped her eyes open.
‘What am I thinking?’
‘Future?’
‘What future do I have with this vicious dog?’
‘Why am I planning so long-term for a tool that only has two days to live? As if we were really going to fight side by side until the end of time, until we die in battle or from old age.’
‘He’s nothing but a stepping stone on my path of revenge, a foothold. His role is to have his last drop of blood drained by me in two days, and after death, contribute all his value.’