Whisker entered the room in his disheveled state, pale and exhausted. He paid no mind to the unusual situation of Arthur and Seraphine discussing matters while one of them was naked and simply threw himself onto the bed. His arm was still bleeding, staining the sheets.
Seraphine, ever unapologetic, immediately expressed her disdain. "Don't taint my mattress, feline. Go and bleed elsewhere."
Whisker, panting heavily and covered in sweat, wasn't in the mood to tolerate her indifference. "He was shot by the goddess," Arthur explained calmly as he rose from his chair. Seraphine, while still interested, crouched beside the bed as well, her curiosity piqued. Arthur cast his healing spell on Whisker, and the wound began to mend.
"A divine wound isn't this easy to heal," Seraphine remarked, studying the healing process with keen interest. "Your mana seems to possess a higher quality than divine mana."
