Inside the tent carriage pulled by two worn-out horses, Ainhars cradled his Twin Swords and was dozing off, while Oula opposite him was also napping. Both of them were covered in scrapes, but the wounds on Ainhars' back were especially deep and bone-deep, nearly severing the young Demon Hunter in half.
Similarly, Windsor and Elizabeth sat shoulder-to-shoulder at the front of the carriage, where the coachman would usually be.
Both of them were also injured.
But that did not stop them from whispering and chatting softly.
From time to time, a crisp bout of laughter erupted.
It was Elizabeth's laughter.
Under the moonlight, her skin was so pale it seemed to glow, like an elf beneath the moon, particularly when she lowered her head to smile, drawing Windsor's gaze irresistibly.
Of course, this was very cruel for the single men Ainhars and Oula.
"Hey, hey, hey, I'm severely injured here!
Is this right?"
Ainhars protested vehemently.
"Why don't you two just get married already?"
