Gara's voice wasn't aggressive, only a soft, sad tone. But it immediately shifted the atmosphere.
Narin's anger flared. No one had ever questioned her status as a healer. Her innocent expression vanished, replaced with sharp intensity. "Then why are you coming to the mountain, huh? Stop lying and admit it. You can't produce water... anymore."
Her words nearly died on her lips when a stream of water suddenly flowed from Gara's palms.
It poured so abundantly that the other Liners were ready to collect it, hoping they wouldn't need to make the trip to the neighboring mountain themselves.
Before anyone could move, Gara lowered his hands and said with a sorrowful expression, "I'm also an herbalist. I came to gather herbs from the mountain, not to take water."
Silence fell.
Narin suddenly remembered, this black-haired young man was not only a healer and capable of producing immense amounts of water, but also an herbalist.
