Meanwhile, in the freezing room. Only Kian, Cyrus, and Glimora were now around. The rest couldn't stay any longer due to the cold.
Kian sat with his back against the wall, eyes closed, indifferent to the chill that seemed to pierce through the room. Cyrus, however, was pushing himself harder, his breath visible in the freezing air as he worked to keep the healing spell on Isabella.
The room was eerily quiet and tense, the silence broken only by Isabella's soft murmurs as she slept.
"Almost… don't stop, just a little more… harder, yes, that's it…"
Kian's eyes flickered open, his expression as still as ever. But when he glanced at Cyrus's frozen posture, something like a flicker of... discomfort passed over his features. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual, noting how the man's back had stiffened. Cyrus was flushed—no, he was practically glowing red, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he tried to focus on his work.
