The surroundings were peaceful.
This made Wislin feel very uneasy. It shouldn't be like this! He felt as if his whole body was floating, only the pain throughout his body told him that he was still alive, but he just couldn't open his eyes. He sensed he was lying on a soft bed, with a pillow behind his head emitting a floral fragrance, covered by a thick and warm blanket.
He would rather his hard armor was still on him.
Vaguely, he heard laughter coming from outside, but he couldn't make out the language of their conversation. The last thing he could remember was falling from a high place, continuously falling, as if there was no end.
Could it be that he had been captured? The Snake-men kept him in confinement to prevent this "high-level prize" from dying, giving him preferential treatment, and then prying information from his mouth? No way, they wish! Wislin's hand habitually reached for his waist, but neither his sword nor the hidden dagger was there.
