Return of the Woodcutter

Aito stumbled out of the portal into his luxurious apartment. The siblings both eyed him with complicated gazes as he suddenly let go of his morpho ax and shield to speed up through the entrance corridor. Brushing past them without saying a word. 

He limped as fast as he could towards the bathroom, opened the door, got into the jacuzzi-like bathtub, and rapidly infused mana to activate the water mechanism, picking the lowest temperature available.

The cold transparent liquid rushed out of the showerhead, tap, waterfalls, and jets located at the large bathtub's four respective corners. 

His equipment emitted steam as the water running down his entire armor set evaporated. Aito took off his helmet, revealing the burn marks on his face as he threw the armor piece aside to soothe his injuries with the cold liquid. 

One by one, he removed each steaming armor part. Articulated gauntlets, breastplate,  vambrace, pauldrons, weaved mail vest, cuisse, weaved mail pants, and greaves.

Standing under the shower in his every day—now wet—white clothing he examined his blistered, slightly swollen red skin. A sign of second-degree burn injuries, although in his case it was moderate ones. 

His whole body resembled a pepperoni pizza. Well, a bruised pepperoni pizza because he also had withstood blunt attacks, which could be lessened but not entirely blocked by his armor set, depending on where he was hit. 

'Damn… this is ugly as Filona,' He thought, disgusted. Then, he rethought his curse, thinking it didn't look THAT bad. 'Never mind, maybe it's just half a Filona. Or a quarter?' 

If he had to take a large guess, the temperature of his gears had been in between 100°C and 180°C before the cooling because of the constant exposition to fireballs. Metal was also a great conductor for heat after all. 

Thankfully, Durability had done a great job protecting him against the blaze. Ainar's added layers of leather and fur in most of his armor set had lessened the heat's negative effect on Aito's skin. Furthermore, his level 3 body was more resilient now than ever before. 

All these variables allowed him to lessen the fireballs' lingering impacts to a certain degree. 

Exhausted and injured, Aito sat in the bathtub to rest. Floating items on the water surface drew his attention. 

'Damn… I forgot about these,' he thought, grabbing two inventory bags he had kept strapped to the belt that came with his weaved mail pants to put them aside to dry. 

He then took a look at his legs, which had severe second-degree burn injuries with bruises that came with it. 

Aito sighed, took out two recovery beads from his stash of ten he had been saving for climbing the Tower. He planned on buying more of these later—with the money he had earned through his daily training quests—since ten weren't enough. 

He broke the two green beads, leaned against the tub and relaxed while welcoming the warm healing. At least he tried, but something was poking at his ass. 

'What's this?' Aito thought, reaching back with a painful groan to grab his repeater that had sunk into the water. 'Right… pity I didn't get to use it during the fight. Talking about not using something…' 

Settling away the crossbow to dry, he furrowed one of his pant's pocket underwater to take out the two balls Ainar had given him. 

'That too…' 

He placed them aside with the other items, and finally allowed himself to relax. His other gears could stay underwater for all he cared. Aito was too exhausted to take them out at the moment. He'd dry them later. His apartment had an incorporated drier and washing machine, anyway. 

Suddenly, as he tried to close his eyes, he thought about something else. 

Was it a good idea to put his wet gears in the drier? Wouldn't it affect his gears negatively, like shrinking the leather and fur? 

Aito sighed, wanting to facepalm himself. 

'Fur and leather shrinking in the drier, *sigh* I must be really tired.' 

Having made peace with his mind, he finally allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy his cold bath. 

Who knew cold water could be so enjoyable? Well, it was to him at least. 

Not even five seconds after he closed his eyes, a cough coming from the bathroom's entrance interrupted him. 

'What now!?' 

"*Cough*, hum, hey," Ogoro said, leaning on the door frame to maintain his balance. Appearing embarrassed. Probably because of what he had told him before. Not because of… the current bathtub situation. "Hum, I think I ow—" 

"Let's have this conversation later, Ogoro. Treat your wounds first." Aito interrupted, pointing at Ogoro's several bloody cuts, bruises, and burnt arm. He really wondered how that man was even able to stand as if his injuries were nothing. Aito took out four recovery beads from his personal stash and threw them towards Ogoro. "Use these. Give one or two to Sheyla if she needs it. I'll come join you after I'm done here." 

The grey-haired man nodded in a respectful, thankful manner and headed towards the living room. 

Aito pushed a heavy sigh out of his throat as he sunk into his bath, closing his eyes. 

'Finally, alone.' 

Or so he thought. 

At that moment, the sound of someone knocking on the door took him out of his relaxing state. It couldn't be Ogoro since Aito knew the man had enough good sense for not coming back after he had explicitly told him he'd exit the bath later. Which only left…

"Yes, Sheyla?" Aito asked, lazily turning his head full of slowly healing burn marks towards the door. He really wanted to rest, but outright telling her to "get the fuck out of here" didn't seem too appropriate. 

"So, it was really you," she said, as not-so-shy as ever. 

"I see you still haven't learned to say, 'thank you.'" He said, sighing. "Whatever, I want to rest, and bickering with you right now is the last thing I need. So please, let's bicker later." 

As if their conversation was over, he glared at the ceiling and closed his eyes for the umpteenth time today. Then… nothing. Silence. Only absolute silence. It was so quiet that he wondered if she had left without noise like a certain comic bat hero. 

A few seconds later, a familiar feminine voice broke the stillness. 

"Why?" Sheyla asked, still standing by the door. 

Aito opened his eyes… again. Although, this time, he didn't feel as pissed, because he had had, and was still asking himself the same question. 

"Why indeed?" He said, his gaze glued on the showerhead. "Was it because I sympathized with your brother? Was it because I hate the sect? Or… was it because I missed our bickering so much, I simply had to save your plump ass?" 

Sheyla looked at him stoically, unamused. "I was serious." 

"So was I," Aito said, shifting his head towards her, a slight smirk on his face as he looked at her figure with an exaggerated, vulgar facial expression. "It's truly a great ass." 

Sheyla stared daggers at him, emitting her usual cold vibe.

"Ah, add 'how to take a joke' to your 'to learn list.'" Aito said, slightly shaking his pepperoni pizza-like head. 

Well, it was only partially a joke.

She seemed even more unamused, but her gaze somehow softened when it traveled to Aito's injuries. Examining each blister, bruise, swollen spot. 

"Are… you okay?" She asked her tone unrecognizably, lightly, but certainly softer, warmer. 

Delicate. 

Comparable to someone swapping an iron brush for a normal one. 

Aito felt like a hammer had struck his mind. That sentence was extremely… abnormal, to him at least. He hasn't known her for long, but she sure left him with a deep impression. One of someone with extreme coldness. 

Now that she appeared warmer, it disturbed him. Not in a bad way. It was just, well, unusual. 

"I'm fine, I just need to rest," Aito said, with a barely perceptible smile on his face. "I'll be in top shape in around two hours after my injuries are healed." 

Sheyla nodded, "Good." 

Aito softly granted. Not knowing what to say, he simply agreed awkwardly. "Yeah… I suppose it's good."

After that, he expected her to go, but the frozen blue-eyed woman remained by the door frame, leaving Aito confused. 

"Are you waiting for an answer to your previous question?" He asked. 

Sheyla nodded. 

Feeling she wouldn't leave him alone if he did not give her a proper answer, he said, "Fine. *sigh* I'm not sure of the reason myself. All I know is that it just... felt right. I wanted to do it." 

Looking sideways, Sheyla seemed to ponder the answer. After a few moments, she appeared to come to a conclusion. 

Convinced she would leave him alone now, Aito closed his eyes, then suddenly opened them when he heard something even more unusual. 

"Thank you," Sheyla said, leaving a dumbfounded Aito sinking into his bathtub. 

A gentle smile crept up his face as he replied, "You're welcome." 

All of them knew they were still knee-deep in divine feces, but talking things out helped with the anxiety of what would inevitably have to happen later. 

Thus, finally, Aito closed his eyes to rest.