"It’s nothing, it’s Wang Cai," Lance waved his hand, signaling everyone not to be alard.
Sure enough, Wang Cai’s massive body erged from the forest at a leisurely pace.
However, Lance quickly realized sothing was amiss. Wang Cai was not its usual calm self but appeared frantic instead.
Its face was sared with blood, and its eyes glinted with a fierce light, revealing intense murderous intent. The innocence in its eyes was gone, replaced by the dominance of its bestial nature.
"Where were you just now? You only co out after the fight is over!" Boudica said, looking at Wang Cai with dissatisfaction. "An untrained dog!"
Wang Cai paid no attention to Boudica’s words. Instead, it struggled to Lance’s side, coughed up a finger, and then curled up on the ground, turning to lick its wounds.
Its bloodied fur was matted down. It was only then that Lance noticed the severe wounds beneath its thick white coat—evidence that it had not run from the enemy.
"You’re fine now, good boy," Lance bent down to stroke the wolf’s head, and Flesh Reconstruction healed its injuries.
"WOOF..." Wang Cai whimpered softly, weakly rubbing its head against Lance’s stroking hand. Even though its wounds had healed, blood loss still left it weak.
Lance picked up the severed finger from the ground. Its jagged break and mangled flesh indicated Wang Cai had bitten and torn it off.
This finger looks slender, plump, and elastic, clearly not sothing common Heretics would have. Only young ladies who don’t engage in laborious work and live comfortably have fingers like these, Lance thought. Given the location, it obviously couldn’t have belonged to a young lady. That leaves only one possibility: it’s from a high-ranking mber of the Ascension Sect, a Spellcaster wielding the power to summon Void Demons—the mastermind behind this attack.
No wonder that Spellcaster only managed one attack before vanishing. It turns out Wang Cai had targeted them. Although Wang Cai didn’t kill the caster, it bought enough ti. Otherwise, successive summonings of Aberrant Demons could very well have finished off right there.
"Wang Cai didn’t run away. It was fighting alongside us the whole ti, just sowhere we couldn’t see." Lance’s explanation, along with Wang Cai’s wounds and the severed finger, quickly made the others realize it had been fighting all along.
In fact, not only was Wang Cai seriously injured, but they all had varying degrees of injuries as well. Geralt and Junia, protected by their armor, were better off and not too severely injured.
Boudica, however, wore only a sleeveless Barbarian leather tunic. Her body bore slashes of varying depths, and her exposed arms bled continually, yet she acted as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
"Here, drink this," Lance handed Boudica a Potion bottle filled with what looked like clear water. As she drank, he perford Flesh Reconstruction to heal her wounds.
Wang Cai’s fur had concealed the true extent of its injuries, but now Geralt and the others were shocked by the rapid healing of Boudica’s wounds.
Geralt was no stranger to healing Potions; he had so in his pack, but he had never seen such a dramatic effect before. That Potion must be very expensive, right? was his first thought.
Junia was also astonished. I might not be great in a fight, but are the Divine Arts I rely on for healing during my travels now outdone by a Potion? she wondered.
Lance saw their reactions and just smiled without a word. I actually held back a little, not wanting to scare them, so I left so superficial wounds. If they knew the injuries could heal completely without any side effects, how would they react?
"I’ll cover the maintenance for your armor and weapons, and I’ll add three Gold Coins to your reward," Lance said.
I won’t overlook their contribution, Lance thought. They didn’t abandon in such a dire situation, proving themselves comrades-in-arms.
Upon hearing this, Geralt looked surprised. He disliked fighting not primarily because of its dangers, but because of the inevitable losses: the cost of maintaining weapons and armor, and the expense of treating injuries.
It was indeed an astonishing thing that Geralt, a Master Witcher, was constrained by money.
This was, of course, related to his high moral standards; for him, slaying monsters was his duty, with rewards being secondary.
Thus, he refused to abuse his power for nefarious purposes. He was even willing to help employers who couldn’t afford his fee, despite also frequently encountering duplicitous ones who tried to haggle over paynt.
This employer is so generous it feels a bit too good to be true, Geralt thought. After brief consideration, however, he shook his head and declined.
"No need. This was unrelated to the mission; I was just acting in self-preservation." Geralt spoke the truth. Since the sudden attack wasn’t part of the mission, his decision to stay and fight had been his own.
Geralt’s professional ethics were exceptionally high, so much so that even Junia felt the pressure. She also needed money and was currently in debt, but after hearing Geralt’s words, she didn’t hesitate much before also rejecting the reward.
"That’s right!" Junia added. "The Heretics were targeting . If the Lord hadn’t rescued just now, I probably wouldn’t have survived. I can’t accept money for that."
"HAHAHA!" Lance laughed and waved his hand. I never expected to find such genuinely "good people" in this world.
"Hold on, don’t be hasty," Lance said. "I have a policy for missions: all incurred expenses can be reimbursed, I cover treatnt for injuries, and in case of unexpected events, I adjust the compensation accordingly."
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