Brando parted the crowd and saw that "person." More precisely, he could vaguely make out that it was a woman, dressed in tattered, scorched clothes that barely covered her vital parts. Her entire body was covered in extensive burns, some of which had already festered. Her right hand was almost completely charred. Her beautiful face was covered in horrifying blisters, and half her hair had been burned away, making it difficult to distinguish her original appearance. Brando's first thought upon seeing the woman was that it was a miracle she was still alive. Her chest rose and fell faintly, the only sign that she still had any life left in her. In addition, Brando could sense the lingering aura of holy magic on her. Magdal must have cast a holy spell to stabilize her injuries.
Apart from that, he could think of no reason she was still alive. Even so, she would have trouble surviving more than a few days. Organ failure would soon claim her life.
She was not a member of the delegation, and there were no women among the Cruzian nobles. She must have been an innocent civilian in town who had been caught up in Malthus's attack. What a pitiful woman. From certain details alone, Brando could tell that she must have been a rare beauty before she was injured. But flames showed no mercy to beauty. She could continue suffering and clinging to life for a little while, but soon she would return to the abyss of darkness, to Goddess Elune's embrace. Brando mourned her silently for a moment, then turned back and looked strangely at Magdal and the pale-faced Dirfiel beside her. After studying the woman for a while, he realized he did not know her and could not understand why they had called