It is kind of astonishing, Drystan thinks – how Ercilia can still keep moving around, that is.
Her injuries are by far worse than most of those he saw before. She lost so much blood during the past several hours, and she gained wounds that would probably turn into permanent scars. Even then, she remains spirited and vivacious. Her endurance is truly remarkable.
It was already a miracle that Ercilia had made it out alive. Drystan had never met someone hold onto life this strongly.
"Put me down."
"I can't. You're bleeding."
"So? What is it to you?"
"You need help, obviously."
"Look, whoever sent you, just tell them I'm dead. My corpse got burned into crisps or something. Spare yourself from this trouble, please. I'm not worth it."
So, that's what she means. Now, he gets it.
