Splitting Blade widened his eyes, looking like he was pleading for mercy.
His giant sword rested on the ground, his hands stretched out in front of him, staying still.
Who knows what he was thinking.
At this moment, he only had one thought: This was the boss's woman; a fight couldn't happen here.
Waterstream immediately recognized him as the guy standing behind the black armored man, holding a massive sword.
"Heroine, let's talk peacefully... alright?" Kent said cautiously.
A black armored man?
Waterstream was taken aback, her gaze fixed intently on this guy who didn't look very old, but was indeed clad in black armor.
This guy also looked at her with an innocent and harmless expression.
"Lishi?" Waterstream asked, somewhat uncertain, with a black feathered arrow held between her teeth, making her words come out muffled.
"Uh? Ah… yes, that's me." Kent realized she had only seen him in black armor and a face-covering helmet, never his actual appearance.
But she should recognize his voice.
"I told you, I'd take you away from here," Kent said earnestly, looking sincere.
It really was the black armored man.
+1 to Waterstream's satisfaction level.
Kent's eyes teared up slightly. Why was it always just one point…
She hesitated, slowly letting go of him.
Everyone lowered their weapons, except for Dry Leaf.
Splitting Blade turned his head and nodded at him, and although unsure why, Dry Leaf also lowered his bow.
"Amh amhmhmhm?" she asked in a muffled voice.
Kent was momentarily taken aback. Did she mean... my wounds?
"Yes, I healed them too," Kent nodded.
A blush appeared on Waterstream's face out of nowhere. Feeling a bit annoyed, she tightened her grip.
The wounds on her waist and legs were somewhat hidden, yet this guy actually…
+2 to Waterstream's satisfaction level.
"No, no, I didn't touch you!" Kent shouted.
He clearly received satisfaction points, but why was her grip getting even tighter? Women are such mysterious creatures!
The people on horseback looked down, avoiding eye contact and pretending not to notice.
The situation was a bit awkward; it seemed they couldn't help, watch, or listen to the boss right now.
"Is it only hum?" Waterstream glared, asking sharply, "How did you heal those injuries?"
With the black feathered arrow between her teeth, her angry expression looked a bit comical.
"With... this…" Kent slowly raised his hand.
He had hoped to keep this a secret, but now, he had no choice but to reveal it to everyone.
In his palm, a blue flame burst into life.
The entire guard squad stared, mouths open, dumbfounded.
The gentle, cool glow.
He lightly placed it on the arm that was gripping his neck.
The flame flickered happily.
It entered Waterstream's body.
Prayer spells belong to the healing class of spells. Within the vast magical system of the outer continents, they're relatively basic spells. But on the nearly magic-proof Red Earth Continent, a spell that heals wounds quickly is practically divine.
This is why many adventurers refer to mages skilled in prayer spells as divine spellcasters.
The blue and white flame disappeared on her arm, but Waterstream could clearly feel a cool sensation spreading throughout her body from her arm. The original wounds now felt a gentle itching, signaling the growth of new flesh. An indescribable warmth followed, one that felt unfamiliar yet made her shiver with longing.
The healing magic, the red sun she saw before passing out, and the steadfast silhouette of the black armored man.
And the young face in front of her.
All merged together.
She was momentarily lost in thought.
The scene became uncomfortably silent.
Kent cleared his throat twice, pulling her out of her trance.
"Now, can you let me go?" Kent asked cautiously, noticing fine beads of sweat forming on Waterstream's forehead.
Silently, like a butterfly drifting in the wind, Waterstream lightly released his neck. With an odd grace, she made an impossible movement and landed on the wagon next to Kent. Waterstream sat sideways, her white feet dangling from the cart.
Only then did everyone finally let out a breath of relief.
Kent exhaled deeply, his back drenched, still feeling the grip and warmth from Waterstream's hand on his neck. For a moment, he actually enjoyed being held by her.
Such a masochistic tendency, he thought wryly.
The caravan continued moving as if nothing had happened.
Yet, a subtle, unusual atmosphere began spreading among the guard squad.
Those who usually joked around went quiet. All those on horseback tightened their reins, and the second and third wagons began pulling back, putting a bit more distance between themselves and Kent's wagon.
"So, what do you want?" Sitting on the wagon, Waterstream asked coolly.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear in Kent's ears.
"The condition I mentioned, you've already met," Kent replied with a smile.
"What do you mean?" Waterstream shot him a glance, then her face turned red as if realizing something.
"Just a dance." Kent shrugged.
Hidden Kill Dance, fool. Waterstream silently cursed in her heart.
"Killing techniques aren't dances," Waterstream scoffed. "Pick another condition."
"No, in the Highland Tribes, a promise is a promise. A dance is a dance," Kent said with a grin.
"Do I look like someone from the Highland Tribes?" Waterstream said coldly.
What kind of people the Highland Tribes are, or what they do, was none of her concern.
"Where you're from doesn't matter to me," Kent replied. He had no particular feelings about clans or tribes; the sense of superiority ingrained in many members of the Highland Tribes Alliance didn't exist in him. "Everyone under heaven is a friend. If we share the same goals, we can be friends—even partners."
Everyone under heaven? Friends? Partners?
Strange guy. Waterstream cast a sidelong glance at Kent.
Strange words.
"Blood Rose doesn't owe anyone favors. You need to name a condition," she insisted.
The prayer spell had left her feeling oddly relaxed, with a faint drowsiness.
This unfamiliar sensation made her uncomfortable. She was used to being alone. Even after taking over as the new leader of the Blood Rose, she often hid alone in the mountains, sleeping on cold, hard rock, a situation preferable to this languid, sleepy state.
"If you insist, I do have an idea, but I'm afraid you won't agree," Kent said, noticing her sleepy expression with an amused look.
Waterstream sneered to herself; as expected, he would ask for something inappropriate.
If he turned out to be such a person, killing him wouldn't be an issue.
"Come to my territory and work as an instructor for a few days, just a few days," Kent said.
He couldn't quite bear the thought of Waterstream leaving, though why he felt that way…
Well, that was probably a secret everyone knew.