It's Stanley.
“Till asked me to come and check on the situation here.”
He seemed very uncomfortable with this job, his gaze constantly shifting around the room, showing no intention of making eye contact with us. His figure, after removing his robe, was extremely thin, wrapped in a dark turtleneck sweater, with a few water droplets still clinging to the ends of his hair, suggesting he had just washed it.
He placed the tray on the small chair, moved another chair over, sat down on it, rested his chin on his arms, and stared silently at the ground.
I shrugged, shifting my gaze and senses away from him: "As you can see, there's nothing there."
Whether it's news or the sight of deep snow.
I even began to wonder if she had been swallowed up by the darkness that was lingering beneath the small building, otherwise how could she not have made a single splash?
Ah, I should have learned more magic tricks.
While I did manage to mark others, the distance was far beyond my perception range, so I was completely unaware of the current situation.
Stanley snorted listlessly, "Hmph, perhaps. But since Till sent me here at this time, she must have her reasons."
I agree with that.
Or rather, it's hard to stop myself from thinking about it more deeply.
This was a subconscious reaction after learning that it possessed eyes that could see into the future, even a shattered future.
Alice seemed very interested in the food Stanley had brought. She jumped off her seat, walked briskly to the chair, looked down to check for a moment, first stuffed a muffin into her mouth, then reached out and took two cookies, and put the newly taken muffin into my hand.
The dried fruits and pine nuts, sprinkled on the slightly hard surface, release a faint fragrance when brought close to the nose, making them an extremely delicious dessert.
I was very curious: "Did you make this?"
Stanley curled his lip in disdain: "Do you really think I'm that kind of person?"
Of course not, it was just a polite inquiry.
"Although Thiel is indeed interested in this, she can only make simple little things that won't be messed up too much even without help. It would be too much to ask her to do something like this, and it's not safe either."
"The one you have was given to you by a local resident. I think it's because they helped treat this part of my right leg last time, and they brought it over as a thank you."
It's easy to imagine the many inconveniences of life after losing one's sight, let alone taking it away from a normal person. The price to pay for trying and getting used to it is even higher. However, the blind saint seems to have no complaints about it, earnestly and purely enjoying life. Now it seems she's even trying to make desserts. I'm really curious what she can't do.
As for Stanley's assistance to the blind saint in her treatment, I also observed it for an afternoon and lent a hand several times. Although my initial purpose was to supervise his actions to prevent him from implanting anything strange into the patient's body, as time went on, it was as if I was infected by the atmosphere, and I spontaneously intervened and began to help.
I bet if Hikari saw this, she'd be so happy she'd spin around a few times.
She always wanted to work with me, but unfortunately, my strengths are mostly in combat or research, and I rarely have the opportunity to leave the miniature garden. As a result, I could only maintain an atmosphere of slight regret in my heart.
I have tried to learn techniques to heal others, but embarrassingly, even after being given a simple lesson by an impatient Stanley, the results were still unsatisfactory.
Compared to the efficiency with which he and Hikari could effectively shrink the wound as soon as they made a move, the person who received my care said that it felt more like being held by the limbs and roasted over a fire. Although the treatment was barely completed after several attempts, judging from the appearance alone, some people would probably believe that the person had just been burned by charcoal.
"This is the first time I've ever seen someone like you."
Stanley's merciless yet perplexing assessment from back then still lingered at the bottom of his memory, waiting to be covered and erased by new memories: "It's not like you're casting a spell like [Summoning Flames], so why is there a hint of fire mixed in with your effort? Is it because you're used to working in garbage incinerators, and it's a bad habit you've unconsciously developed? You had no problem mobilizing magic at first, so instead of torturing yourself and your patients like this, why don't you switch careers and open a barbecue stand to satisfy your unique talent?"
...Honestly, I think the reason I didn't choose to punch him in the face back then was because I have too good a temper.
Forget it, it's best to avoid saying things that might spoil the mood.
While snacking, Alice, who had finally come back to life from her dazed state, seemed very curious about Stanley and asked him a series of questions: "How old are you? The way you talk sounds a bit too old-fashioned. Is it natural or did you do it on purpose?"
"Also, since you have time now, why don't you tell us in detail about the cult you've joined? Even if it's just to lay the foundation for future cooperation, wouldn't it be necessary to increase mutual understanding?"
The man lowered his head, seemingly protesting with silence to endure the barrage of questions, but after meeting those smiling, curved ruby eyes, he quickly gave in and could only reluctantly give a brief answer: "27, that's how I was born. And, personally, I don't approve of seeking cooperation from you."
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