The space rift closed behind the four, shutting the army, the wailing, and the smell of burning air on the other side.

The evening wind in the woods is warm and pleasant, and the insects make a thin chirping in the grass. The woods here are not dense, and the bushes clearly leave traces of people coming and going. Looking down from the gentle slope, a small town is flickering with lights not far away, a peaceful and peaceful scene.

"This is...?"

After hesitating for a long time, the young girl among the strangers spoke up.

"We're still in Walden." Nemo carefully placed Oliver on the thick grass and used magic to clean up the blood and dirt on the opponent. "Don't worry, I didn't directly take the two of you out of the border."

He sat down, put Oliver's head on his thigh, and carefully repaired the other's withered and damaged internal organs with abyss magic. Nemo had wanted to remove those horrible scars all at once, so that the dull pain in his chest would stop for a moment, but Oliver seemed to want to keep them. So he had to carefully avoid those scars, treat the festering and infection in the wounds, and let them scab quickly.

The silent knight's armor has neat and beautiful streamlined lines, and the dark metal is tightly buttoned together, which makes the armor vacancy on Oliver's left arm particularly eye-catching. Nemo turned the wrist lightly, staring at the mark made of scars.

He let out a tiny sigh, brushed away Oliver's clean light brown hair, then leaned down and branded a light kiss on the other's forehead.

"What are you two going to do next?" As if to force himself to divert his attention, Nemo finally turned his head. "Where do you want to go, or..."

"No, here is enough." The tall man raised the heavy shield in his hand uncomfortably, his voice a little dry. "We have a way to get out. Thank you very much for your help, Mr. Wright."

"It's me who should say thank you." Nemo smiled a little stiffly, "If you hadn't delivered Ollie's news in time, I might have..." If he took a step further, If he didn't arrive at the furnace in time, Oliver was likely to be wiped out of the world by that bone bomb.

Nimo didn't want to speculate on what happened after that. Just seeing the current situation, he was almost unable to breathe because of the pain.

There was no expression on the tall man's face, but his eyes dropped in the next moment: "Mr. Ramon also saved me, we are even. You know."

"Are you his boyfriend? He said he has a boyfriend." The petite girl interjected, "Although I don't quite agree with his philosophy, Mr. Ramon is indeed a worthy man. The person who admires... When will he wake up? He has to do his due diligence, at least let us say goodbye to him."

"I don't know, but he...should be fine." Feeling Oliver's even and long breathing, Nemo replied in a low voice. "And it doesn't matter whether it's equal or not, I'm really grateful... By the way, there are traces of the devil's curse on the two of them, do you two know?"

"We know." Randy nodded, although it wasn't really visible in the gray fog shield, Mr. Ramon's lover seemed to be able to use extremely powerful abyss magic. Maybe they can ask Wright politely, maybe they can get some information about the superior demon. "Excuse me—"

"I removed it," Nemo muttered, still stroking Oliver's soft, smooth hair. "The curse of blocking contact is not fatal. I didn't judge the content carefully. Although I don't know what the two of you are forbidden to touch... I just want to tell you that it is gone now."

"I don't have any money, so I can only thank you two." Those silver-gray eyes were especially sincere.

Nimo Wright's tone seemed to be expounding "you got a leaf on your head, I just took it off for you", without deliberate modesty, he seemed to be really for "only to be able to do such a small thing." The two killers didn't know what to say for a while. The two stood there, not daring to move at all. After more than ten seconds, Mora pinched herself hard, and then let out a real scream.

Randy put down his shield and looked at his scarred hands, watching them tremble for the first time.

It was all too sudden. The journey of more than ten years suddenly reached the end, and the unreality made him a little dizzy. The thick shield smashed to the ground, and the tall killer turned and stared intently at his lover—and Mora threw off the sharp weapon on her fingers and charged straight in front of Randy, lips quivering violently. The two were very close, and neither of them said a word.

Do not stretch out a hand. The back of the hand was still covered with dust and blood after the battle. The slightly thin hand stopped in the air, and its owner raised his head and looked at his lover with red eyes.

Randy stretched his hand to his pocket, and his hand was shaking so much that he failed two or three times just by unbuttoning it. But he finally got it open and took out a small paper bag. He started trying to untie the string above, and then simply ripped it open.

There are two rings inside.

Simple, even rough, with no gems embedded. The silver metal twisted into a simple foxtail shape and lay quietly in Randy's broad palm. He twitched the small one gently, as careful as his own eyeballs - then turned to the hand that was in the air.

He stretched out his hand, as if intending to hold it, but suddenly flinched in the middle. After struggling a few times, he finally stretched out his hand and gently held the other's slender fingers.

He was shaking so much he nearly slipped the ring into the grass.

Randy bit his lower lip silently, and carefully put the ring on his left ring finger, he didn't even ask any questions. And when the tall killer tore his eyes from the place where their skin touched, only to see the other party's face was full of tears.

"You—stupid stake—" Mora choked and growled, "You forgot to propose, you..."

She gritted her teeth, and finally failed to finish the sentence. She opened her arms, slammed towards the other party, buried her face in the other party's chest, and her whole body trembled like a dead leaf in the gust of wind.

She hugged him fiercely, then took a deep breath and turned to Nemo.

Nemo Wright unraveled their curse with ease, and they didn't even know how the other did it. He is probably a real superior demon. But that doesn't matter, Maura thought, everything doesn't matter anymore.

She kissed the ring and seemed to lose the ability to feel fear - their joke fate drew a dramatic end, and even if she died at this moment, she was happy enough.

So Mora didn't ask anything, and she put her weapon in front of Nemo solemnly. Then she took off her blood-stained coat, folded it neatly, and placed it next to the weapon. He snorted hard the whole time, and the circles around his eyes were slightly red and swollen.

And Randy came over and did the exact same thing.

After Nemo finished explaining the curse, his attention has been focused on Oliver. He was taken aback by the actions of the two of them, and there was some confusion in his eyes.

"You said you don't have much money." Mora said in a hoarse voice, "You can take these to the mercenary guild and receive the wanted order to kill 'Sancho's Grey Fox'. It's our signature weapon, plus the blood suit—not as convincing as a corpse, but a good deal."

"Sancho's Grey Fox won't be active anymore." She gave a really bright smile, "It's finally dead."

The night finally passed.

When Oliver woke up again, the first thing he saw was the spice bag hanging from the wooden roof. The warm sunlight cast on the thin sheets, and everything that was too bright almost stabbed his eyes. Oliver touched his side subconsciously, trying to hold the Sword of Rest - then he found it lying on the soft bed, clean and pale as snow.

The scratched and worn armor was also cleaned up and placed neatly on the wooden bench beside the bed. Even the skeleton helmets were securely stacked on top, plated with a touch of gold by the sun.

Hunger, thirst and pain were gone, his heart had never beat so powerfully, and his body was light as if it no longer existed. Oliver touched his chest subconsciously—there was no sticky blood or stains, nor the stench of rotting flesh and the sweet smell of pus and blood creeping into his nose following his movements.

There is only the aroma of sweet milk and fresh lemon in the air. Now his whole body is clean and fresh, his body is soaked with pus and blood, and his dilapidated underwear has long been replaced by a large and comfortable nightgown. If it weren't for the hideous scars still lying on his skin, Oliver almost thought he'd just had a long enough nightmare.

He moved his fingers unaccustomedly, turned his head, and found Nemo on the side where the sun was more intense.

Nimo was sitting on the wooden stool beside the bed, with his hair loose, and with concentration he was using a knife to cut the skin of a soft purple pear. The bright purple peel slipped continuously from between his fingers and fell into the trash can below. It's just that after the purple-red peel, followed by the reddish flesh - but Nemo slashed so ignorantly until the fruit that was no small head was completely peeled off.

Oliver: "…"

He decided to keep silent first, to make sure that this was not another dream of his own.

After literally peeling the pears, Nemo was stunned for a few seconds. He sternly threw the pit into the trash can, and took out a larger one from the fruit basket at his feet.

Seeing that the tragedy was about to repeat itself, Oliver couldn't help propping up his body and coughing twice. Decided to increase my presence.

This time the soft pear fell into the trash.

Nimo looked at him blankly, maintaining a peeling posture on his hands. He opened his mouth, and after a few seconds he managed to make a sound.

"Oli, you...do you want something to drink?" he said hurriedly, throwing the knife into the fruit basket. "I remember you like honey milk, but it doesn't quite quench your thirst. I also prepared water and..."

"Nimo." Oliver adjusted his posture and leaned on the soft pillow at the head of the bed. "Can you come over a little?"

At that moment, Oliver found his lover at a loss. There was a clear struggle on Nemo's face, and he seemed to want to pounce, but there was nothing stopping him. In the end, he pursed his lips, picked up a glass of cold water, and approached cautiously.

Oliver reached out.

Nimo seemed to think he was going to take the water glass, so naturally he sent the beautiful glass forward. However, in the next second, water spilled on Oliver's chest, and the glass rolled down along the undulations of the thin quilt. Oliver grabbed the white wrist, pulled Nemo into his arms, and hugged him firmly.

"Nimo." He repeated in a low voice, burying his nose in the other person's neck and shoulders, and smelling the unique stench in Nemo's hair again. "Don't move, let me... hug for a while."

The other party's weight and body temperature were so real that it made him feel sore.

"I'm still alive." Oliver announced in a low voice, feeling the other's rapid heartbeat and the violent heaving of his chest. "…I'm alive."

"Yeah." Nemo responded briefly, Oliver couldn't see each other's expressions in the hugging posture.

"I... I have registered the fake quest 'requires an interview' with the mercenary guild and designated Tumbleweed. Although it will cost a little more, Ann will definitely be able to find us. Now go back Alban is too dangerous."

"Hmm." Oliver put his arms around the other person even harder, and responded vaguely.

Stiff - he is more like letting himself hold him obediently. Unlike before, he doesn't mean to respond violently.

"Not me, but us," Oliver added.

"Pick you up," Nemo said, his voice muffled. "Oli, do you want to eat something? Although I healed your internal organ damage, you haven't eaten for too long, and it's too indigestible to eat at first..."

"Your technique of changing the subject is not very good." Oliver sighed and let go of Nemo reluctantly. He leaned back on the bed and stared at those silver-gray eyes seriously.

"We've agreed, we'll talk about it after all this is over." He stretched out his hand and casually smoothed the black hair that was scattered on his shoulders.

"The time is now."

"No, not yet..."

"If what we're going to talk about makes you so miserable." Oliver repeated, "...then now is the time."

(m..=)