Rosalina stood silently beside the bed, her eyes fixed on Sylviana. Leon, standing a short distance away, watched with the same unwavering focus.
The timid, flustered girl from only moments ago had vanished completely. Once she began treating Julius, every trace of hesitation disappeared from her face, replaced by an expression as calm and emotionless as polished stone.
Her emerald eyes remained fixed on the wounds before her, her breathing steady, her movements precise. It was as though she had become an entirely different person the instant she picked up a blade.
Her hands moved with remarkable confidence, guiding the small knife across Julius's battered body with delicate precision.
She carefully reopened several wounds just enough to clean away dirt, dried blood, and tiny fragments of debris that had become trapped inside.
Every motion was controlled, neither too fast nor too slow, as if she had repeated the same procedure thousands of times before.
