Third person's POV
The door swung open.
Misha stared at Alma with wide eyes, thinking her sincerity had finally moved her.
But the next moment, Alma unhesitatingly lifted a basin of water and splashed it over her, drenching her from head to toe. "Stop making a fuss here! Don't try to coerce me with such theatrics. Whether you stay or do something more extreme, it has nothing to do with me. If you're looking for trouble, take it elsewhere, not here!"
Misha stood there, stunned. How could Mrs. Atkinson act so unreasonably?
"Why are you staring at me like that? Do you think this is a soap opera?" Alma sneered, "Now leave before you soil my place."
As she spoke, she shielded Hedwig's eyes, "Don't look, or it might ruin your mood."
Misha returned, drenched and furious, cursing under her breath, "Why is this old woman so difficult? She didn't have to help, but did she have to throw urine at me?"
Rolf pinched his nose and stepped back, "You better avoid her. That's probably stored urine used for exorcism here. Don't let it stink Alpha Derek."
Misha was on the verge of tears, "Urine? How could she throw urine at me!"
Alban explained helplessly, "In this place, urine might be considered a means to ward off evil spirits."
"I'm a living person, and she used urine to drive me away?"
"It's all because you made things up. She was quite amicable until you claimed to be his fiancée."
"Is it because she's been single too long and her psychology is warped? Isn't that how it's portrayed in TV dramas? Lovers pleading for help would move hermit-like experts to act. Who knew she'd react like this?"
Instead of gaining the sympathy of the hermit-like expert, Misha ended up drenched in urine. She felt extremely unlucky.
"There's a stream over there. Go wash yourself. We'll think of another way. Alpha Derek only has one day left," Alvin said.
Determined to risk being doused in manure, Alvin decided to plead with Alma again.
"I'll go with you. I'm not afraid of being splashed," Alban offered.
The room was left with Kamp guarding Derek.
Kamp watched Derek, who was writhing in agony, and sighed softly, "Why do you insist on this?"
It could have been resolved with a single bullet, but because of that face, he ended up like this. "If you die here, she might not even know."
Derek's entire body was being affected by the poison, with his hearing and sense of smell deteriorating. He could only utter whimpering sounds.
Unbeknownst to anyone, the little girl had returned.
"Dingdong, dingdong..." the sound of the bells on Hedwig's feet.
She appeared to be only two or three years old, with a delicate and beautiful face bearing the hallmarks of a mixed-race European heritage.
Kamp thought the child seemed familiar, resembling Tabitha slightly, but that was all.
"Are you Hedwig?" Kamp asked gently, bending down.
Hedwig, as if not hearing him, walked straight to Derek.
Derek vaguely saw the outline of the little girl and slowly reached out. Due to his blurred vision, he couldn't see the child clearly, but instinct told him it was familiar.
Then, his palm felt something soft—tiny and warm, just like the memory of young Kyrian in his early days.
Kamp, noticing this, asked urgently, "Little girl, can you save him?"
Hedwig shook her head slightly and made a gesture. Kamp guessed, "You mean you can't, but someone else can?"
Hedwig nodded.
"Is it Mrs. Atkinson?"
Hedwig shook her head again and gestured. Kamp understood, "Your mother?"
Hedwig nodded.
Kamp's eyes lit up, "Where is your mother?"
Hedwig made another gesture.
"She's gone far away and no one knows when she'll return? But he only has one day left! Can you slow down the poison for him? Then we can wait for your mother to come back."
Hedwig looked at Derek. At this moment, Derek's hearing was delayed, and Kamp's voice seemed to come through a water curtain.
He felt all his senses fading and instinctively held Hedwig's small hand, thinking this might be the end.
After an unknown amount of time, he suddenly felt liquid on his lips.
Derek instinctively licked them and tasted blood. Kamp stared in shock—Hedwig had actually cut her palm and was feeding Derek her blood.
This scene, which seemed straight out of a fantasy story, was unfolding right before his eyes.
"Will this slow down the poison?" Kamp finally found his voice.
Hedwig nodded.
"Hedwig!" Alma's voice came from the doorway.
Hedwig's face turned pale as she hastily hid her injured hand.
"How could you do this? What if you hurt yourself? How would I explain to your mother?" Alma quickly stepped forward and bandaged her hand.
Kamp seized the opportunity to ask, "Mrs. Atkinson, Hedwig said her mother can save him. Is that true?"
"What difference does it make if it's true or false? Her mother has long left, and no one knows when she'll return. The village has no communication, and even if she comes back, there's no guarantee she'll help."
"Please show us the way. How can we find her?"
"Don't waste your effort. Her return is all up to fate." Alma forcibly took Hedwig away.
Hedwig looked back with reluctance. Why did this man resemble her mother so much?
Was he her father?
Hedwig felt an innate closeness to him and was distressed by his suffering.
Alma closed the door and asked earnestly, "Hedwig, what did you feel?"
Hedwig gestured, "Is he my father?"