Right now, Elara really wanted to curse out loud, silently swearing in her heart: 'Who's worried about you? Who do you think you are?'
She let out a sigh but dared not say a word, afraid Zeka would use those terrifying vines to impale her.
"Elara, don't worry, I'll protect you," Zeka said with a smile. "Let's find a shelter to wait out the snowstorm. I'll go look for some more food."
Hearing that, Elara truly wanted to cry—she wanted to go home, or even return to that fiery realm of souls and keep hauling rocks. Anything was better than following this guy, who made her sick and constantly feel in danger. She had no idea when he might use those vines for something twisted.
Zeka and Elara found a small cave, where he let her take shelter inside.
Afraid she'd get cold, he gathered up all the clothes from the dead Lords he'd killed and spread them out as a makeshift bed for her.
"Elara, sit here, you won't be cold," Zeka said with a smile.
