The girl standing at the edge of the shoreline looked thin, almost fragile. Her skin was pale, her build delicate, and she wore a simple dress made from coarse fabric, likely woven by hand. She had the appearance of a village maiden—someone who had grown up far away from bustling cities or grand sects. But there was something in her eyes, a playful glint, a mischievous spark that said she was anything but ordinary.
Tyler lay on his back, body aching and barely able to move. He had drifted to this island after being injured during the Abyss Breakout and had only now regained enough strength to open one eye. He blinked against the sunlight and saw the girl looming over him with her hands on her hips and a wide grin spreading across her face. She looked at him like he was a rare treasure that had washed ashore just for her.
"You're alive. Good," she said cheerfully. "I prefer my husbands breathing."
Tyler's eye twitched. "Wait... what?"
