Zhihao blinked a few times, flustered, "Oh, sure..." He looked around in various directions, confused by the various ingredients and elixirs in the cupboard.
"There is one on my table, a reddish elixir, bring it here," Ryusa ordered, turning her back to Zhihao. "These wounds might contain a slight toxin from the mixture I've made."
He understood and responded, "I'll be right back, Master!"
Zhihao stepped to where her work was not too far from that area. As Zhihao neared the closed door, an eerie silence shrouded the room. No traces of smoke or the lingering scent of mixture reassured him.
Confronting the cluttered table adorned with a variety of books, his gaze focused on a nearly empty bottle of liquid. Hesitation tightened its grip as he softly inquired, "Is this enough?"
Delving further, he tilted the bottle, observing the viscous liquid slowly flowing. "Ah, this seems substantial," he remarked.
