Death Knights Fear Scalding Too?

"So hot!" Malone yelped as soon as he took the clay pot from Teron Gorefiend, his hands stinging.

However, Malone couldn't just drop the pot on the ground, so he had to endure the intense, burning pain radiating through his hands and quickly set it down in front of Tiffany.

"Pfft!" Seeing Malone put the pot down and frantically blow on his cupped hands, Tiffany couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Uh..." Malone awkwardly tugged at the corner of his mouth, though he felt quite happy inside.

Of course, it wasn't because he had been burned—Malone wasn't a masochist; he was just glad to see that Tiffany could still laugh.

Malone knew that war could deal a heavy blow to people, especially the pain of losing loved ones; many might never emerge from that shadow for the rest of their lives.

"Strange, Maicomarlon, how did you get burned?" Teron Gorefiend grabbed Malone's wrist and examined it closely.

"Why wouldn't I? That thing was just taken off the fire!" Malone pulled his hand away from Teron Gorefiend, feeling a bit of heartache—several blisters had already formed on his palms.

"But I carried it all the way here just like this?" Teron Gorefiend held out his own hand to show Malone.

There was a clear, circular burn mark on Teron Gorefiend's palm, with white imprints appearing on the dark, bruised skin.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Malone asked curiously.

"Hurt?" Teron Gorefiend looked even more puzzled. "How could a Death Knight feel pain?"

"What?" Malone realized that Teron Gorefiend seemed to have brought up a serious issue—if he was a Death Knight, why did he get burned?

However, Malone didn't have much time to ponder this question because Tiffany suddenly spoke to him.

"Mr. Malone? What are you talking about?" the human girl asked curiously. "This gentleman... is he your companion?"

Although Teron Gorefiend looked terrifying, Tiffany mustered her courage—even if this ugly gentleman was, he was still her savior!

"Oh, nothing..." Malone switched to the common tongue skillfully, casting his physical issues to the back of his mind.

"Mr. Malone, I..." Tiffany said with difficulty. Even though she had made up her mind, she still felt a bit embarrassed and guilty when apologizing to others.

"What?" Malone replied absentmindedly, using a large wooden spoon to gently stir the contents of the pot.

What on earth is this... Malone felt a bit dissatisfied inside—some unrecognizable grains, bits of rotten meat, and chopped-up bones, all floating in a layer of greasy broth; that was everything in the pot.

Is this stuff even meant for people to eat? Malone grumbled inwardly.

However, Malone also knew that the orcs relied solely on looting for supplies, and given their barbaric lifestyle, they probably couldn't make anything particularly delicious.

Recalling the scenes he had seen earlier of orcs fighting over food, Malone knew it probably hadn't been easy for Teron Gorefiend to get this pot, so he could understand and wouldn't complain.

"Mr. Malone, I'm really sorry about before," Tiffany whispered. Seeing Malone stirring the pot without speaking, she assumed her previous behavior had angered her savior, which made her feel even worse.

"I shouldn't have said those things. I trust you, Mr. Malone. I know you must have had your reasons for being forced to stay among the orcs. Everything I said before was just nonsense, and I am truly sorry."

Tiffany sincerely admitted her mistake to Malone.

"Oh, it's fine, it's fine..." Malone quickly stopped stirring and waved his hands. "Miss Tiffany, you don't have to be like this, I..."

"Gurgle!"

A soft sound interrupted Malone's words. He stared blankly at Tiffany until the girl's face and neck turned bright red.

"Haha..." Malone couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Please don't mock me, Mr. Malone..." Tiffany's voice was as small as a mosquito's. "I... I haven't had a full meal in many days!"

Tiffany felt her performance was truly terrible—how could a lady have a stomach growling from hunger?

"It's alright, it's alright..." Malone tested the temperature of the pot with his hand, and feeling it had cooled down enough, he nudged it closer to Tiffany.

"Eat, Miss Tiffany, don't be shy," Malone said with a smile. "Perhaps orc food isn't as good as what you've had before, but at least it can fill your stomach."

"How could it be..." The human girl hadn't yet recovered from the shyness of her "growling stomach." She kept her head down, gently shifting her body forward while speaking softly.

"Eat up." Malone handed the large wooden spoon to Tiffany.

"Mm..." Tiffany nodded slightly, then reached out to take the wooden spoon from Malone.

Inadvertently, Malone's and Tiffany's hands brushed against each other.

Malone quickly released the long handle of the spoon. Even though the touch was soft and ambiguous for that split second, Malone cursed himself internally for being pathetic.

It was just a touch of the hand, why are you getting so worked up! Malone told himself.

By comparison, Tiffany was much more composed.

Although touching Malone's hand also made her face flush slightly, Tiffany didn't make any drastic movements. She simply leaned forward, using one hand to tuck back the golden hair that had fallen due to her posture, while the other hand used the large wooden spoon to scoop up some broth. She brought it to her lips, blew on it gently, and took a small sip.

God... she is truly beautiful.

Malone marveled in his heart.

Back on Earth, it wasn't as if Malone hadn't dated, but his ex-girlfriends, even with the effects of various beauty filters, couldn't compare to a ten-thousandth of Tiffany's charm at this moment.

Malone didn't consider himself a fool for beauty, but he truly hadn't expected that a young girl could maintain such elegance and beauty in this filthy, chaotic place.

Tiffany had perhaps gone without food for a long time; although she maintained her dining etiquette, it was clear that the frequency of the large wooden spoon moving in and out of the pot was a bit too fast—for a lady.

Tiffany knew her current actions were a bit unrefined, but she was indeed too hungry—the meat-porridge-like substance in the pot wasn't very tasty, and Tiffany would bet there wasn't any salt in it.

But at least eating this would warm her body, and at the very least, it was cooked—Tiffany still remembered the two horses that Richard and his men had killed.