Not a breath of wind stirred the silent woods. A light white mist hung all around, and Unas was sweating in the stifling air.
Darian looked like he was beyond help. A gaping hole had been stabbed through a vital spot at his waist, and the demon had drained a great deal of his blood. Unas pressed a hand over the wound and cast Holy Light several times in succession, but it had no effect whatsoever, proving once again that a level-one Holy Light was a useless skill.
Darian was already on his last breath. Unas might as well save his strength and wait until he died to bring him back. An utterly absurd feeling rose in his heart—he could save the dead, but not a living man with serious injuries...
Just then, a little red dot appeared on the minimap. An enemy!
Unas spun around. At the spot marked by the red dot on the minimap, a petite female elf was tilting her head and studying him.
She stood on a limb jutting from a large tree not far away. Tight black leather armor traced the subtle curves of her slender body, and a black hooded cloak fluttered gently behind her. Two long, pointed elven ears poked through small holes in the hood. She wore two slender swords at her waist and carried an elegant black longbow over her right arm. She looked like an elven ranger.
But then he took in her corpse-gray skin, her cracked, blackened lips, and her scarlet eyes. Sense Undead had made no mistake. She really was Undead—a Dark Ranger.
"What... do you want?" Unas was a little at a loss. He hadn't expected an Undead to save him. His impression of the Undead had been so poor since he crossed over that he had subconsciously taken her for an enemy.
"I only want my arrow back." Her voice was hoarse and grating, without a trace of emotion. She had deliberately aimed that arrow to graze his head. The human's head and the demon's had been too close together; her only target was the demon, and she hadn't wanted to hit anyone else by mistake.
Unas looked at the arrow buried deep in the tree. That arrow had interrupted the Dreadguard's spell and saved him. A trace of guilt rose in his heart. He took a dagger from his backpack and dug the arrow out of the trunk.
It was a finely crafted arrow of refined steel. Its sharp, three-edged point gleamed coldly, and a few Thalassian letters were carved into its smooth shaft—dalaria.
"Your arrow," Unas said, gently tossing it to the ranger. "Miss Delania."
"Xingyu, in your language." The Dark Ranger caught the arrow and deftly slipped it into the quiver on her back. "My name is Enya Xingyu."
"Thank you for your help this time, Miss Xingyu." Seeing that she seemed to mean no harm, Unas hurried to thank her.
"Thank me?" A trace of emotion finally entered the ranger's voice. She turned sideways. "You won't feel that way for long."
What does she mean? Is she going to harm me? Unas was just about to ask when Enya Xingyu turned and bounded between the branches. In the blink of an eye, she vanished into the dense woods.
So cool, like she knows lightness skill. But she hadn't even said goodbye. Thinking back to her parting words, Unas felt vaguely uneasy.
The Dark Rangers were all Sylvanas's subordinates. If one had appeared here, could the Dark Lady be nearby?
There was no use worrying about that now. Darian had breathed his last without Unas noticing, and he needed to bring him back quickly. The Dreadguard had bitten him; his corpse might turn into an Undead.
Unas was just about to cast the spell when a rustling sounded behind him. He turned to see Whitemane limping toward him, leading her white horse. Gordon lay across its back, apparently still unconscious.
"Darian! My brother!" The silver-haired Priestess screamed at the sight before her. She saw only Darian lying on the ground. Forgetting the pain in her thigh, she hurried over.
Darian had long since stopped breathing. Whitemane shook him desperately and cast every healing spell she knew on him, but none of them had any effect.
Darian's corpse remained cold, shattering the last hope she had clung to. Whitemane sank down beside him, large tears welling in her wide blue eyes.
"Why..." she murmured.
Seeing how grief-stricken she was, Unas laughed to himself, but still comforted her. "People always die in war. But I already... um... dealt with that demon, so I avenged him. And I can also..."
"Wait!" Whitemane seemed to notice Unas for the first time. She stood and stared at him, all her grief turning to anger. "Why is my brother dead, but you're completely unhurt?!"
The little sympathy Unas had felt evaporated at once. Was this damned woman actually questioning him again?
"My injury is in here." Unas pointed at his head. "That's why you can't see it."
"There are no wounds on your head. If it's an internal injury, how can you prove it?" Whitemane demanded sharply, as though she had resumed her role as a prosecutor.
Prove it, my ass. Unas nearly cursed aloud.
"Also, you claim to be favored by the Holy Light, and you can use resurrection magic." Whitemane's eyes suddenly lit up, and a little hope rose in her heart again. "Now it's time to prove yourself."
"'There's no way this shameless scoundrel is favored by the Holy Light.' Wasn't that what you said earlier?"
"I misspoke earlier. If you really can bring Darian back..." She paused and softened her tone. "I'll never bring charges against you or Joseph Gordon again."
"And then?"
"Then I'll apologize to you in public and praise your generosity and greatness to everyone."
"What else?"
"I also have more than a thousand gold coins. I can give you all of it."
"And lastly?"
"Lastly, you greedy, shameless, ugly Goblin..." Whitemane finally reached her limit and burst into curses.
"Stop!" Unas hurriedly shouted, stopping her from saying anything worse. Of course he was going to save Darian; he had just wanted to toy with the damned woman first.
"I don't need your apology, and I don't want your money. I have only one condition." Unas kept her in suspense for a moment.
"What condition?"
"Be my girlfriend for a day." Unas put "have sex" as tactfully as he could.
"No problem, as long as you can bring him back." Whitemane didn't hesitate for a moment. "Forget one day. We can be friends forever."
No way, she's that open? Unas thought. But she had left the "girl" out of "girlfriend," and he couldn't let her get away with that.
"I said girlfriend, not an ordinary friend."
"What's the difference?"
"A girlfriend is someone you... um... have a romantic relationship with." Unas struggled a little to explain.
"So you want to date me—?" Whitemane's voice suddenly rose and drew out.
"Something like that." Though "sleep with" would have been a little more accurate.
Whitemane had never lacked suitors, but if she had to choose the one she disliked most, it would surely be the man before her. Still, for her beloved brother's sake, she didn't want to pass up even a one-in-ten-thousand chance.
"I... agree." The silver-haired Priestess nearly ground her teeth to pieces.
"Heh heh heh." Unas was delighted. He felt rather like he was forcing a virtuous woman into prostitution. So being a villain felt this good.
"Then I'm going to start. Protect me," Unas said in the tone of a superior issuing orders to a subordinate. "Once Resurrection is interrupted, I won't be able to use it again for a while."
Seeing how confident Unas looked, Whitemane suppressed her anger and opened her eyes wide. She wanted to see the legendary spell for herself.
A dazzling golden light appeared between Unas's hands. Whitemane was also a wielder of the Holy Light, but even she had rarely seen Holy Power so radiant and pure. Was this the power to bring the dead back to life?
The golden light began to move over Darian's corpse, and the gaping hole in his waist healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.
After casting it last time, Unas had gained a rough understanding of the process of Redemption. First, it repaired the deceased's body. Then it infused the body with life force and reestablished the connection between soul and flesh, bringing the person back to life.
The cast bar still took a long time to fill, but it was much faster than it had been for Gordon. After all, Gordon's injuries had been more severe than Darian's.
As the light disappeared into Darian's chest, the spell was finally complete. Unas lowered his arms and caught his breath, a feeling of exhaustion washing over him like a tide.
Whitemane threw herself toward her beloved brother and placed both hands on Darian's chest. To her delight, his heart really had started beating again, though his breathing was still very faint.
"Holy Light above! It really is Resurrection... You really are Holy-favored!" Whitemane still found it hard to believe.
"I told you long ago, but you wouldn't believe me." Dizzy after casting the spell, Unas managed a faint, smug smile. "Don't forget our agreement."
"I won't go back on my word. Don't worry." The foreign spy she had been so sure of had suddenly turned out to be someone favored by the Holy Light. Whitemane's mind was in a mess, and for a moment she didn't know what to do. "What do we do now? Is Darian all right?"
"He should be fine, but he'll be weak for a while." Unas whistled to summon Black Wind. "Get him on a horse. We'll go back to camp first."
The silver-haired Priestess nodded silently.
Unas went back into the woods and found the big brown horse. The three horses carried the three wounded people, leaving the apparently uninjured Unas to walk.
My life really sucks! Unas complained silently.