The Villainess Wants a Divorce:Beast Husbands Regret It to Tears-Chapter 20: Softened Heart

In order to drip blood smoothly, she deliberately didn’t bandage it. Now the wound was exposed to the air, burning hot.

The entire arm was trembling slightly.

Cold sweat had quietly soaked her back.

Yet she still stood biting her lip, not making a sound.

Seeing a few Beast Husbands more injured than her, she didn’t want to seem fragile or give anyone an excuse at a time like this.

But it was Isaac Vaughn’s gentle "Are you alright?" that instantly hit her soft spot.

Because of this, Seraphina Caldwell’s inner defenses suddenly crumbled.

Aggrieved, she felt a surge rising up, her eyes instantly reddened, tears brimming.

She bit her lower lip hard, creating deep dents with her teeth, even drawing some blood.

She didn’t want to cry in front of these people.

The pain was real, and so was the frustration.

Trying her best but still having to constantly guard against others’ scrutiny.

Seraphina sniffed, swallowing the sourness in her throat, and quickly turned to Evan Orwell.

She reached out her still bleeding arm.

"Evan, can you help me treat this wound? I... am willing to give you a blood drop in exchange."

Evan is a Priest, possessing the ability to heal with spiritual power.

This is known to all, but not everyone can receive his treatment.

Seeking help requires sincerity.

Especially in this world where the weak fall as prey, any aid comes at a price.

Evan looked at her reddened eyes, a vague emotion flashing in his gaze.

Previously, he hoped to have more opportunities to get a blood drop.

Relying on Seraphina’s blood to quickly rid himself of the constraints of his sealed body.

He had calculated the number of times, needing seven more drops for complete unsealing.

But hearing her request now, he felt no joy at all.

He furrowed his brow, a shallow crease appearing between them, reached out and steadily pressed her arm.

"Don’t move."

"But..."

Seraphina wanted to argue, her voice tinged with urgency.

She knew that if the wound were completely healed first, she’d have to cut open it again to obtain more blood.

Why endure another cut for something that could be done in one go?

"No buts."

Evan directly interrupted her.

His fingertips slowly radiated a gentle white light.

The light gradually expanded, tenderly enveloping her wound.

Soon, the burning pain disappeared, replaced by a cool, soothing sensation.

The bleeding stopped, and the once gushing blood gradually congealed, finally ceasing completely.

She looked at her arm in surprise.

The deep wound healed rapidly.

The skin reclosed, muscle tissue gradually restored.

In mere seconds, only a faint pink trace remained, not even a scar.

This was her first time personally experiencing the healing process.

The magic of it far exceeded her imagination.

Not just simple blood stopping, but like life itself growing back against time.

She stared blankly at her arm, a storm of astonishment surging in her heart.

She opened her mouth, lips trembling slightly, wanting to say thank you but her voice stuck in her throat.

But before she could speak, she realized Evan had already withdrawn his hand.

He then turned around, opening the Beast Skin Bag hanging at his waist, rummaging for herbs inside.

So, she hurried to add.

"Tomorrow when I give Isaac a blood drop, I’ll give you an extra one as well."

As soon as these words were spoken, the air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Evan’s footsteps paused slightly, his right foot stopped as it crushed dried leaves.

He didn’t turn back nor respond.

Afterward, he silently continued, handing some crushed herbs to those around him.

The Healing Technique greatly exhausts the mind. Earlier, during the battle with the Great Viperdile, he had repeatedly used spiritual power.

Now he didn’t intend to heal directly but coldly said, "Apply it, and tomorrow it will scab."

The males took the herbs, lowering their heads to begin bandaging their wounds.

Their movements were swift, yet their gazes unanimously fell on Seraphina.

They were stealthily observing her, as if truly seeing her for the first time.

Seraphina felt those gazes but didn’t look up, just slightly shifted herself, quietly resting by the robust ancient tree.

Several males were bandaging their wounds.

Yet their movements seemed absentminded, frequently erring as their fingers wrapped the cloth.

They didn’t even realize their focus no longer lay on the pain.

They vaguely felt that Seraphina seemed different than before.

Not in appearance, nor in attire, but in some sort of shift in temperament.

Gideon Larkin was applying herbal medicine to his shoulder, the wound stung fiercely from the powder, causing him to gasp sharply.

Yet even so, his eyes couldn’t help but focus on Seraphina’s profile.

She sat against the tree trunk, her lashes lowered.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves, casting onto her face.

He suddenly felt a bit dazed.

An absurd thought suddenly popped into his mind.

If she were like this, not whipping people, not swearing, still sharing the meat and keeping her word...

Then even if the Contract isn’t broken, it might be... alright?

This thought barely emerged when Gideon jolted awake, even startling himself.

He quickly lowered his head, raising his hand to smack his forehead hard.

"What idiotic things are you thinking!"

He angrily chided himself, the voice nearly a roar.

"She used to bully you, punished you with night patrols, confined you, publicly humiliated you! Now she’s a bit gentle, and you forget the pain? Spineless! Weak! Embarrassing!"

But no matter the harshness of words, no matter the inner rebuke.

When he secretly raised his eyes again, that unspeakable feeling lingered unresolved.

It wasn’t simple fear or resentment, but a complex emotion.

Wyatt Yardley also stood rigidly, unmoving for a while.

He intended to go forward and say something, but seeing Evan’s movements and Seraphina’s reactions stopped him.

He silently shifted his gaze from Seraphina, turning his head to look at the horizontally lying Great Viperdile corpse.

The massive body curled, scales shimmering with an eerie green under the sunlight.

He stepped forward, extending his hand, fingertips protruding sharp, black claws.

The claws hooked like talons, clearly exceptionally hard.

He stared down at the giant snake’s head, then suddenly raised his hand, violently slashing at the snake’s head.

The sound of scales cracking was piercing, producing "crack, snap" crisp noises.

Green blood splattered, staining his arm and clothes, emitting a faint white smoke.

The pungent stench assaulted the nose, nauseating.

Yet he remained unflinching, eyebrows not even furrowing.

He inhaled deeply, suppressing the stomach churning, extending his hand into the bloodied wound.

He cautiously probed, avoiding broken bones and trembling vessels, inching deeper.

Suddenly, his fingertips lightly touched, feeling a hard, cold sensation.

That feeling was clear, unlike flesh or bone, but a kind of highly condensed energy crystal.

His heartbeat sped up slightly, yet his expression remained calm, slowly extracting that thing outward.

The next second, he pulled out a green crystal.