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When Desmond received the sword from Katya, she mentioned something about the difficulty of creating such an artifact, which Desmond didn’t understand until much later. Katya was talking about artifacts with spirituality, special relics capable of developing beyond the limits defined by her birth.

In addition to its inherent quality of growth, a spiritual weapon also had characteristics and abilities that gave them spirituality. In the case of the sword, was created with the carcass of Skaylos the Stormbringer, so it was expected that the sword would have related abilities engraved on it.

In fact, the sword, , had three incredibly powerful abilities, making it clear that the sword’s spirituality was substantial and pure. Ironically, Desmond couldn’t use sword skills due to excessive mana consumption. Unlike Desmond’s bow, which consumed something else to activate his unique ability, the sword required Desmond to supply a colossal amount of mana, that’s why he wasn’t inclined to use such abilities.

Unfortunately, Desmond realized from him during his confrontation with Rekna that it was impossible to beat the werelion without taking some sort of drastic measure. Although Desmond didn’t want to accept it, the truth was that Rekna was stronger than him by a wide margin.

Every little advantage Desmond gained over Rekna during their previous battle required Desmond to deplete more than half of his mana pool. It didn’t take a little skill and foresight either, yet Desmond had barely hurt Rekna. The werelion possessed an overly robust physique, taking Desmond’s attacks head-on with ease, dodging those moves that felt dangerous with his feline reflexes and speed.

Even during his last exchange, Desmond had to rely on his more powerful sword skills combined with his more self-damaging reinforcement skills. As a result, Desmond barely managed to block three sword strikes from Rekna. Rekna hadn’t even used a blade skill on him, and Desmond was already on the edge of the precipice. Desmond could be expected to be defeated quickly.

With all of the above, Desmond was forced to use one of his sword’s hidden abilities, an ability he named due to his similarity to a Mayan god. The little sword was almost unnoticeable now, hidden under what looked like a four-winged serpent made from a storm. The mana from the wind had condensed to such a degree that its greenish glow only served to give the four-winged snake more presence and detail.

Such an ability was by far the most powerful attack Desmond could unleash. He estimated that this thing was at least thirty to forty percent more powerful than his , although the specialties of both attacks were different, so it wasn’t an excellent idea to compare them in such a simple way.

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Following the simple logic that everything has a price, this ability almost killed Desmond only to be able to activate it partially. As powerful as the current seemed, Desmond could feel that his mana was not enough to unleash the true potential of this skill. Yet he was already quite satisfied.

Rekna looked with apprehension at the sword in Desmond’s hands, but he couldn’t muster any strength to resist. He didn’t even see when Desmond swung his sword; it was too fast. What he did see was a storm in the form of a snake showing its fangs before pouncing on him. The word speed was not enough to define the snake’s movement; Rekna did not even feel his own death. His consciousness only faded into the void, while the pieces of torn flesh and fragmented bones spilled on the ground; that was all that remained of the lion man.

Even he found Rekna’s death somewhat absurd and brutal, Desmond had to admit. The werelion that caused him so much trouble had just exploded into several hundred pieces, which was a bit overwhelming. But Desmond didn’t have time to worry about the werelion’s death, not when his body was filled with irresistible pain and exhaustion.

Desmond was surprised when he felt his consciousness blur, slowly going into a dormant state, unable to tolerate the pain and exhaustion. It was the first time such a thing had happened to him. One had to keep in mind that Desmond had been through all kinds of scenarios, suffering quite a few injuries, the pain was something he was used to, but this time it was different.

The price to pay for using the sword’s unique ability was something that Desmond could barely pay, and his body was demanding rest. No amount of willpower was going to change that.

As he fell unconscious, Desmond heard someone call out to him, but the voice sounded distant, faint somehow, and then everything went black.

It was almost impossible to measure time when unconscious, especially in Desmond’s state. Still, at some point in time, a warm, delicate current poured into him. It started from his lips, down his throat, and reached his stomach. This current spread throughout his body, bringing some comfort.

Desmond swallowed instinctively, eagerly drinking in this nectar that was helping him so much, but there was something strange. He felt as if his lips were touching something hot, something very hot. The burning sensation on his lips was intense but captivating. It was different from pain; it seemed that no matter how much heat was poured on Desmond’s lips, he would not burn. It was quite a wonderful sensation.

They say that you can judge a person’s character by instinctive reactions. Since they revealed the truest “Self” of a person, one could imagine what kind of person Desmond was when his first reaction was to cling to this source of heat as if it were his lover’s lips.

The nectar worked wonders for him, and Desmond felt himself regain control over himself, his awareness quickly becoming clear. As he opened his eyes, his surprise was not small. A pair of yellow eyes like molten gold looked back at Desmond. That flawless reddish skin was silky to the touch, but what really surprised Desmond was the source of the heat he felt... it was the girl’s lips in contact with his.

Almost reflexively, Desmond swallowed, only to receive one last dose of nectar from Aisha’s lips before she withdrew. Desmond saw that in the girl’s hands, there was a medicine bottle now empty. She seemed to have trouble getting him to drink it, so she gave him the medicine mouth-to-mouth.

Desmond felt quite pleased, partly because the kiss felt so wonderful but also because Aisha proved she wasn’t a cruel or ungrateful person. Strictly speaking, Aisha had no responsibility to care for or treat Desmond after the battle. Some would even have considered it the perfect opportunity to kill Desmond and loot his stuff. There was nothing to stop Aisha from doing such a thing, nothing besides her own morality.

Desmond was pondering the whole thing when, to his disbelief, Aisha leaned in once more to kiss him. This time there was no medicine to administer or anything like that. Aisha kissed Desmond with no intention other than to give this intimate gesture.

That kiss was quite an experience in itself. It was like kissing a ball of fire, burning to the extreme, that was somehow silky smooth, peach sweet, and slightly moist as if Aisha’s lips were filled with the spring dew.

It was very strange to Desmond, perhaps even a little difficult to process. While broad and open to all sorts of possibilities, his mindset still had an instinctive reluctance to be intimate with a species so far removed from having a human appearance. This did not mean that Desmond was prejudiced or disliked other species. This was a natural instinct deeply ingrained in him due to his condition as a human being; sentient species tend to reject each other naturally.

However, Desmond never pushed Aisha away or showed rejection. Every second that passed, those psychological barriers within his mind seemed to be bombarded by heavy artillery; eventually, no trace of them remained.

As simple as the kiss was, just a couple of people putting their lips together, exerting a bit of pressure, the soft passion emanating from Desmond and Aisha was almost palpable.

However, as if both parties had agreed from the beginning, Desmond and Aisha parted ways simultaneously. “That was a thank you for saving me.” Aisha said with a very natural seductive tone.

There was something off about Aisha’s tone; Desmond could tell that this seduction in her was not a conscious thing, at least it didn’t convey this slimy, disgusting feeling of decadent lust. It was as if Aisha was genuinely just too passionate, Desmond wasn’t sure if that was the case, but at least he got a better and better impression of the girl.

Desmond responded with a playful smile, trying not to be distracted by his inner thoughts. “Hell, if I had been aware, I would have said something cheesy, refusing any kind of reward. Thank god you caught me off guard and didn’t give me a chance to refuse you.”