Grendel left Lance and imdiately sought out Boudica. Previously imprisoned by a Witch, Grendel was frightened, and in this strange and bizarre place, only Boudica, who was also from the Barbarian Tribes, could bring her a sense of safety.
It was clear that neither of them intended to rest; one didn’t dare to sleep, and the other had slept enough. Their similar backgrounds made them feel even closer as strangers in a foreign land.
Their conversation naturally turned to Lance.
"How did you co to be here?"
Boudica lay in bed, her eyes covered with bandages because of the dicine being applied. The use of the Potion greatly eased her pain and allowed her finally to lie down comfortably.
Since she contracted the disease, the pain and blindness had tortured her. It reduced her, a person usually so energetic, to this state—a fate she found more unbearable than death itself.
But having trust in Lance, she wasn’t desperate; instead, after enduring the initial anxiety, she slowly adjusted.
During this ti of suffering, hardship hadn’t robbed her of her mind; ironically, her blindness helped her see herself more clearly.
The restlessness and irritability from her expulsion from the tribe gradually faded. She felt as if she had returned to the ti she lay in wait for two days, unmoving in the forest, to kill a wild beast.
Calm is the mark of a true hunter.
Had Grendel asked this question before, Boudica might not have responded or could have even lashed out in anger.
Because both being exiled by her tribe and captured by Slave Owners were mories she wanted to escape and never touch again.
But now, she didn’t react that way and accepted herself. After a mont of silence, she began to speak of her own story.
"It was a war..."
Though Grendel had initiated the conversation, it soon beca Boudica’s own account.
Listening, Grendel couldn’t help but marvel at how similar their fates were.
Both were prodigies, standing out at a young age.
Both fled and survived on their own amidst terrible wars.
Both were blinded by guilt and hatred, seeking blind vengeance.
Both fell into peril, and ultimately, it was that man who rescued them.
Their nearly identical pasts made Grendel feel a profound sympathy for Boudica, as if their eting here was so kind of indescribable fate.
The ergence of trust provided her with the greatest comfort since her ordeal began, and the tension in her nerves gradually relaxed.
"What about him, then? What do you think of him?" Grendel asked, referring to soone they both clearly knew without having to specify.
What was more important, she didn’t use the common language this ti, but spoke in the language of the Mountain Barbarian Tribe.
Although Boudica had long known that the Pharmacist treating her was from the Barbarian Tribes, hearing the familiar language still engendered in her a feeling of closeness.
However, faced with this question, she fell silent.
To be honest, she had never considered this question before. Now that it was raised, she began to ponder.
"Are you talking about the boss?"
As she spoke, Boudica couldn’t help but recall the first ti they t, which now seed sowhat odd.
At that ti, the boss seed to see right through her with just a glance, as if she were standing before him without any clothes.
"The boss is a strange person. He’s different from those Imperial People. He has never looked down on and has been very kind to ..."
Without any guile, Boudica shared with Grendel her feelings about Lance.
Lance had indeed hit Boudica a few tis, and not lightly either.
But for her, wasn’t fighting just like eating?
Not to ntion that all three tis had been instigated by her, so she harbored no resentnt towards Lance.
Boudica was rely disinclined to overthink things; she wasn’t foolish. Quite the contrary, she was very perceptive of other people’s feelings.
Dismas and the others didn’t show much overt reaction, but their relationship with her had always been distant.
In reality, she knew they simply looked down on her Barbarian heritage; it was only because of the boss’s presence that they hadn’t made it too apparent.
Even Tiffany, who took care of her when she was injured, looked at her with pity—and Boudica didn’t need sympathy.
Even within her own tribe, after she had bested all her peers, so still questioned her because she was a woman.
Sotis care doesn’t equal respect. Boudica was not one of those weaklings who needed others’ sympathy or pity.
Among all these people, only the boss treated her well, showing no contempt for her being from the Barbarian Tribes or for being a woman. He treated her just like he treated everyone else, equally and without discrimination.
And he would even give her alcohol to drink; if only he wouldn’t force her to learn to speak, it would have been perfect.
If Grendel knew that Boudica’s idea of being treated well was being given alcohol, she probably would have been speechless.
However, ntioning this made Grendel think back to their first eting when he really did just trust her and drank the Antidote she gave him.
And later, when he rushed back, she could clearly feel that the others, even the one she had saved, were subtly on guard against her, but only that man seed very calm. He trusted her completely in a series of subsequent events.
It must be said, such inexplicable trust indeed easily wins affection; she just hadn’t noticed it before, preoccupied by her urgent desire to leave this place as soon as possible.
Now that she had cald down and reflected on everything from their first eting until now, she realized he hadn’t shown the slightest hint of discrimination, not even when she had just refused him.
Combined with Boudica’s words, this wasn’t sothing that could be feigned.
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