The tide rose and fell on the empty beach. Besides dampness, the spring night sea breeze carried a hint of chill. Angie sneezed and instinctively glanced around. Only after confirming that no one had noticed her lapse in manners did she relax, though she could not help shivering.
So cold.
She turned to look at Du Pont beside her and found him still lying there like a corpse.
Wasn't this guy afraid of the cold?
Angie took a long quilt patterned with moon motifs from her Bag of Holding. Then she quietly removed her deerskin boots. Once they were off, her pale black stockings were finally freed. But when her shoes and socks separated, a faint warmth wafted out, adding another scent to the slightly salty sea breeze.
Even Du Pont, who had seemed asleep nearby, twitched his nose.
An unnatural blush appeared on the little priestess's face. She hurriedly opened the quilt and wrapped herself in it, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
Good thing this guy was asleep... I should change into cloth shoes now.
Angie thought.
The goose down brought comfort and warmth. Angie hugged her knees, and even her palms gradually warmed up. But then she suddenly remembered Du Pont meditating beside her and turned to look at him.
His robe was in tatters. She did not know whether the Cultists he had mentioned had caused it. Earlier, he had been covered in fresh blood. She had no idea what he had gone through.
As she thought, she saw Du Pont curl up, his expression somewhat twisted, as though he were thinking about something.
No, meditation wouldn't look like this.
Angie tilted her head slightly and reached out, casting Dancing Lights on him. The strange floating lights resembled burning sky lanterns, but Du Pont continued lying