Such a face that brings extraordinary comfort.
That thought popped up in Annan's mind without any warning.
What appeared before Annan was a "classic" mercenary uncle's face, with deep brown skin that gleamed healthily and his tea-colored pupils shining bright.
This man's body was so strong that even in a leather coat, the muscles in his shoulders made the garment bulge.
The man used his right hand to help Annan stand. Annan didn't feel any pressure and was effortlessly lifted.
His forearm muscles were as robust as hinges made of fine steel, as if the bones needed to be securely locked in place. His palm, however, was almost scalding hot, and even after his hand had left, Annan could feel a wave of warmth still rising from his shoulder.
"Ho."
Seeing Annan open his eyes, the man's mouth curled into a smile, "You're awake.
"I told you so, how's the taste of 'Dragon's Drink'?"
"... Paired with grilled meat, it's not bad. But I'll pass on drinking it straight."
