Faced with Alison's uneasy expression,
Orsaga imdiately let out a mischievous laugh.
That earned him two sharp pokes from Golariel.
One of his worst flaws was that he couldn't help laughing out loud whenever he was gloating over soone else's misfortune.
If it weren't for the bit of friendship he shared with Alison, Orsaga figured he probably would have taken the chance to kick her while she was down.
Knowing his nature, both Golariel and Alison could only look at him helplessly.
A few seconds later, under their steady gazes, Orsaga finally shrugged and gave a half-hearted apology:
"Alright, alright, I'll stop laughing."
Of course, that apology was about as sincere as a wolf swearing it was vegetarian.
The two won imdiately shot him annoyed looks.
Then Golariel urged him, "Why don't you check her injuries first!"
At those words, Alison instantly turned a suspicious look toward Orsaga.
In her mind, he was the kind who would involve himself in every bit of mischief but never in anything good.
Letting him check her wounds sounded aningless—if anything, it might make them worse.
But in the face of her doubt, Orsaga's expression grew proud. After all, for an Abyssal demon to actually know dicine? That was practically a twisted tradition in itself.
Her suspicion only gave him a strange sense of comfort. To him, it was an acknowledgnt of his identity as a true demon of the Abyss.
Seeing this, Golariel could only cover her face in exasperation. She often couldn't follow Orsaga's train of thought. With no other choice, she waved her hand to signal him to hurry and start examining Alison's wounds.
Because of Golariel's insistence, Alison—though deeply distrustful of Orsaga's "dical skills"—finally swallowed her instinctive embarrassnt and slowly loosened the bandages around her body.
Her scarred figure was laid bare before Orsaga.
Though those once fair and delicate areas were now covered with wounds of all kinds, Orsaga, with his instincts as a master of the art of the human form, instantly reconstructed in his mind what her body should have looked like in its uninjured state.
He couldn't help but sigh in admiration:
"Mm~ your figure's even better than I expected~"
Beside him, Golariel nodded seriously in agreent.
"Of course. Her figure is flawless!"
Her tone carried undisguised pride.
"If only her chest were a little bigger," Orsaga mused, "then it would be the perfect proportion by anatomical standards."
"Really? I actually think this size is just right."
"…"
Hearing the pair seriously critique her body, Alison flushed with both sha and anger. If not for her current condition, she would have gladly kicked both of them across the room.
Still, perhaps it was exactly this irreverence and lack of seriousness that allowed these two to get along so well.
For that, Alison really didn't know what to say.
Just as her anger was about to boil over, Orsaga's expression suddenly grew solemn. He put away his joking deanor and began carefully examining her wounds.
In his perception, her injuries contained a powerful force that constantly prevented her body from healing, and even tried to worsen the damage further.
If not for the dicine suppressing it, Alison's injuries would have been far more severe.
After a mont of thought, Orsaga settled on a treatnt plan. He told her calmly:
"For what I'm about to do, you might want to close your eyes. My thods can be a little… rough."
Alison shook her head, refusing his suggestion.
"It's fine. Just go ahead."
There was both stubbornness and curiosity in her words—she wanted to see exactly what kind of thod Orsaga intended to use.
"…Alright then."
Without arguing further, Orsaga began.
The tips of his fingers transford into razor-sharp blades, each hollow inside like tiny syringes.
In just the blink of an eye, Alison's body blossod with sprays of blood as chunks of flesh locked in stalemate with that strange force were forcibly sliced away by Orsaga.
Within monts, both Golariel and Alison could see glimpses of exposed bone.
Yet Alison felt no pain at all—not even from her earlier wounds.
That was because Orsaga's Authority of Agony was at work. Just as it could amplify others' suffering, it could also absorb and suppress pain altogether.
If Orsaga were an assassin, he could have used this ability to numb an enemy completely, then carve out their organs without them ever realizing it—a flashy and terrifying way to kill.
But he wasn't an assassin.
As a brute-force fighter, he preferred to amplify pain until his enemies died screaming.
Helping soone by shielding them from pain? This was the first ti he'd ever used the ability that way.
You could say Alison was receiving a VIP treatnt of the highest tier.
Watching his work, Golariel was horrified. She had never imagined Orsaga's dical thods would be so violent.
Ironically, Alison—the patient herself—looked far calr.
Apart from nearly lashing out at the very beginning due to her body's instinctive reaction, she soon settled into quietly observing his technique.
In her eyes, Orsaga's skill was flawless—every movent of his arms traced the perfect trajectory, completing all necessary actions in the shortest possible distance.
It sounded simple, but for most people—including herself—that level of precision was an unreachable ideal.
Of course, she knew such things were always relative. What seed flawless to her might still appear crude in the eyes of soone stronger.
Still, watching his technique gave her new insights she had never considered before.
As she continued observing, she noticed that aside from removing the damaged flesh, Orsaga was also injecting sothing brimming with life energy into her body, which caused her wounds to heal rapidly.
In just a few seconds, those bloody gashes knit together into perfect, unblemished skin.
She didn't know exactly what that substance was, but for it to work so quickly on soone of her strength, it was surely unimaginably precious—a treasure that could save lives.
For a mont, Alison felt she owed Orsaga a huge debt of gratitude.
What she didn't know, however, was that this miraculous substance was simply a nutrient solution Orsaga had distilled from his own life force.
No rare ingredients.
No complex procedures.
For soone like him, who could precisely control every cell in his body, creating such a solution required nothing more than a single thought.
Strictly speaking, Orsaga himself was the only "material" needed…
As a Greater rank demon, his body was unimaginably valuable, and the life force it contained was incredibly potent.
From that perspective, he was indeed sacrificing a part of himself for her—though only a very small part.
After all, with his immortality, the cost was negligible.
It would take the equivalent of refining hundreds of tons of such nutrient solution before he would even lose a single life. And in the endless Abyss, as long as no one interfered, he could resurrect infinitely by feeding on the boundless sea of negative emotions.
In other words, he could refill endlessly.
That was why he never treated this "miracle dicine" as anything valuable—it was nothing more than a casual favor in his eyes.
___
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