"Why does a healer always pray every time they go on a mission?" A man with brown hair and a thick beard asked.
Not far from that bearded man, a small man with blond hair knelt, closed his eyes, and clasped his hands together.
"Huh? You don't know, Blake?" Next to the bearded man, the woman with short black hair raised an eyebrow. She was wiping her rapier-a type of sword with a slender blade thoroughly. "Healers believe that their power comes from God. So, they pray to God before doing something big."
"I guess I've heard of such a thing." The man named Blake chuckled, took the large bow gun on his back, and examined it. "I rarely go on adventures with a healer, Clara."
"Well, your party is all savage. They just like to attack and attack." Clara chuckled. "Only you are still a bit cool."
The healer got up and approached his two colleagues. "I am done. We can start."
Blake sighed. "But this damn door won't open, Dale."
