Slowly, I lifted my left arm, positioning my wrist above the goblet, and with a practiced ease, I made a precise cut along the surface of my skin using the prepared knife.
The golden liquid began to seep, gleaming in the low light, like molten sunbeams encased in glass.
As the blood flowed, I watched Kuzunoha's face—she was utterly transfixed, her gaze fixed on each precious droplet of gold as if they held all the secrets of the universe.
This reminded me of what happened to Daffodil and that heartless witch.
Well, atleast, I got myself partnered with an eccentric one.
Kuzunoha exhaled in quiet awe as the goblet filled, her usual composure softened by the gravity of the moment.
This wasn't merely a substance to her—it was the essence of a miraculous healing power, an ancient relic, a legend foretold in the lost history of Carcosa—one she had only dreamed of.
For the first time, I saw her approach something with reverence.
