Lucian sized up young Feixiao.
Her small, thin body was wrapped in rags hardened with blood and mud, looking like a bag of trash carelessly thrown aside.
Several spots on her ribcage showed unnatural lines and bulges beneath the thin skin, clearly broken.
All four limbs had joints fractured to varying degrees, twisted completely out of place.
However, the most shocking part was her face.
Where her left eye should have been, there was only a bloody, pus-oozing pit, the skin around it twisted and peeled back. Her right eye was open, but lifeless and clouded with a layer of gray, staring emptily into space.
Her ankles were shackled with thick, rusted iron chains, the iron ring nearly sunken into the bone, and the flesh around it had long since been ground away, exposing stark white bone.
Pus and blood mixed with rust had pooled into a dark stain beneath her ankle.
More importantly, she seemed to have run out of strength, her breathing barely noticeable, the breath of life so weak it was like a candle about to go out.
Only that hollow right eye stubbornly stayed open, reflecting Lucian's face.
'Geez, no wonder you hate borisins so much. If I'd been tortured like this, I'd want to wipe out their whole race.'
Lucian felt a surge of pity and decided to heal the girl.
First of all, the real issue was that he did not know what conditions the script required to be completed, and he absolutely could not let the script's protagonist die.
On top of that, his own identity was the opposite of hers, so the best solution would be to make Feixiao completely loyal to him from the start, which had to begin now.
For that reason, Lucian drew upon the power of Abundance to heal young Feixiao without hesitation.
"W-What are you going to do to Saran?"
Just then, a weak girl's voice came from the iron cell beside them.
Lucian turned and saw a dirty little foxian girl clinging to the bars, speaking to him.
"I'm going to save her, of course."
Lucian replied to the girl softly.
Saran was Feixiao's childhood name.
She only received the name 'Feixiao' after being taken in as a disciple by General Yueyu.
"Really? You'll save her? Aren't you the cook sent by the borisin?"
Upon hearing Lucian's reply, the little girl immediately fired off questions in quick succession.
"What about you? What's your name?"
Lucian could not be bothered to answer, so he asked back instead.
"I-I'm Neergul, Saran's best friend."
Neergul.
Lucian remembered the girl now.
She was the one who had tried to escape with Feixiao, but sadly failed and ended up being torn apart alive by the borisin—a truly pitiful soul.
"Be good. I'll save you later."
Lucian stopped talking to Neergul and turned back to heal the script's protagonist before him.
In the next moment, the mighty power of Abundance surged within him, like a river thawing in spring.
Lucian crouched down at Feixiao—no, Saran's side, and carefully hovered his fingertips above her collapsed chest, not daring to touch her battered body directly.
A green halo flowed from Lucian's palm, warm and gentle, pulsing with the source of life.
Visible to the naked eye, the terrifying dents and bulges began to shift, making tiny, tooth-grinding, bone-creaking sounds.
*Crack—Snap—Pop!*
Saran's bones slowly reorganized and mended themselves.
As for that ruined, empty left eye socket, the rotting flesh was purified under the power of Abundance, causing new tissue to grow at an astonishing rate to fill the void. Fresh pink flesh covered the gory pit, and a thin eyelid grew, closing over it and leaving a narrow slit.
Soon, the rusted iron ring sizzled quietly as the healing energy washed over it, and before long, the rotten flesh around the chain quickly closed up, scabbed over, and fell away, revealing fresh, pinkish new skin beneath.
As her wounds healed, a faint but stubborn warmth began to flow again in Saran's once-cold body.
Just as Lucian was about to pull his hand back, the curled-up body suddenly shuddered!
Saran's dazzling eyes burst with a ferocious light, like a wolf pup forced into a corner, before her body moved so fast that only an afterimage was left!
In an instant, she arched her back, and her cracked, bloody lips parted, revealing small teeth that sank hard into Lucian's wrist, her teeth biting deep into his flesh.
Shortly after, warm liquid ran down Lucian's arm, dripping onto Saran's newly healed cheek.
"Grrr!"
A muffled whimper came from Saran's throat, like the growl of a wounded beast, full of blood and a hate so dense it almost suffocated.
"Easy now..."
Lucian's voice was low, almost a sigh, as he tried to comfort Feixiao.
"It's over now..."
In truth, Lucian had let Feixiao bite him on purpose.
If it were any other borisin, he would've smashed them to death the moment those fangs showed, but not this time.
He understood that the quickest way to win someone's heart was to make them feel guilty toward you.
It was a dirty trick, but it worked.
Seeing Saran's body trembling violently, her teeth biting even deeper, as if to pour all her pain and anger into that single bite, Lucian did not move or try to pull away at all.
Abundance's power flowed gently inside him, healing the wound on his wrist, while her sharp teeth kept pressing out more blood.
Lucian even adjusted his position slightly to make it easier for Saran to bite down as his gaze fell on her tense little face, looking past the hate and tears to something deeper.
A stubbornness that had been crushed and forced to rise up again and again, so fierce it made one's heart ache.
"Brave little one."
Lucian's voice was calm, carrying a trace of warmth that echoed through the deathly still dungeon.
"Can you see me? I'm not a borisin. I'm the one who healed you."
Lucian let Saran keep biting him, while with his other hand, he slowly and gently rested it on her head and ruffled her hair.
Saran's whole body suddenly stiffened.
Her bite loosened for just a second, and her fierce glare flashed with disbelief and confusion.
Now that her sight was restored, she could see that this good-looking man really did not look like a borisin.
She let go of the hand, but continued to watch the stranger warily.
"Who... are you...?"
Saran asked in a cautious tone.
Lucian wiped the saliva and blood from his wrist with the corner of his sleeve, then replied in the gentlest voice he could manage.
"Me? Just a passing savior."