Black mist descends, and I and the witches take refuge in the dungeon.

Mir paused for a moment, then softened his voice as much as possible.

"Approximately when? Can you remember?"

Andrebel's voice trembled slightly, but more so with nervousness; she was worried that her answer would displease Mil.

"It happened about... about ten days ago? Or... about twenty days ago?"

Mrs. Mansing locked me in a cage and then never looked after me again. I was sold to the orcs; they were a matriarchal hunting tribe.

There wasn't a single male in the tribe. After I was captured, I was imprisoned there for three years until Ms. Mansin bought me. I lived in a cage.

Although I am often beaten, I am clean, please don't despise me!

At this point, tears began to stream down Andre Bell's face.

Her eyes were red, and tears stained the dust on her face, making it look somewhat dirty.

Anderbel seemed to realize that his tears were dirty.

She quickly wiped her tears with her hands, not wanting to soil Mir's bedding.

Mir looked at the girl in front of him.

Inferiority and fear were almost tangible in her.

To be honest, it was a little painful to watch.

Having received education from that world, he couldn't stand these things.

So he reached out and gently wiped Andrebel's face, saying softly:

"I won't let you leave. I need you. I need you to do chores for me. You are needed. Don't worry."

Upon hearing Mil's words, Andrebel immediately smiled.

"Yes, Mr. Mill! It is my duty to do those trivial things for you; that is where Andrebell's value lies."

Upon hearing this, Mir wanted to offer some words of advice, but after thinking about it, he felt that it was too vague.

"Then get your leg healed, otherwise you'll lose your value."

Then, without giving Andrebel a chance to say anything more, Mil unlocked the medical kit, the lid popped open, and inside were neatly arranged all sorts of things that Andrebel had never seen before.

The small, silver metal tweezers seemed to be tableware belonging to royalty or nobility.

A white cotton wad encased in a transparent film—a technique never seen even in elf biographies.

There were also several glass bottles of various shapes, containing liquids that were difficult to see clearly.

Looking at these things, Anderbel didn't dare to speak rashly, but secretly admired them in his heart.

It seems Mr. Mil is quite the alchemist!

Mir picked up a transparent bottle first.

Then, he unscrewed the cap, and a somewhat pungent smell wafted out.

"This will hurt a little, so bear with it."

"Um."

Mir poured the iodine from the bottle onto a cotton gauze and then very carefully pressed it onto the skin around the wound.

[Wound treatment detected, Medical Basic Experience +1.]

[Crude and Unscrupulous Doctor LV1 (92/100): Right now, you can only treat wounds that even children could handle.]

Ignoring the voice in his mind, Mir could feel the moment the medicine touched his skin.

Andre Bell's body tensed up.

A sharp pain shot through her legs, and Andre Belle instinctively bit her lip. She gripped the blankets beneath her tightly with both hands, her knuckles turning white, but she made no sound.

She knew that making too many noises in the dark, foggy night was dangerous.

Many people were taken away by the black fog.

Mil didn't try to comfort Andrebel; he didn't have the energy.

The best comfort is to treat the wound as soon as possible.

He quickened his pace slightly, wiping the area around the wound with cotton swabs, softening and removing the dried, blackened pus and scabs little by little.

Mil controlled his strength precisely, neither too lightly to clean the wounds nor too heavily to aggravate Andrebelle's pain.

"If it hurts, just yell it out; it'll make you feel better."

Mil looked at Andrebel, who was now covered in sweat, and said softly:

"The soundproofing here is excellent; nothing outside can hear us."

Andre Bell shook his head, clenching his teeth even tighter, but still spoke in a trembling voice:

"The black fog is dangerous; that's what my mother told me before she was swallowed up."

Looking at the girl's tear-filled eyes, Mir nodded gently, then did not force her, but continued to clean the wound.

About five or six minutes later, the dirt and rotten flesh around the wound were finally cleaned up.

Bright red flesh, still streaked with blood, was now presented to Mil.

He exhaled softly, then put down the cotton swab and picked up the prepared treatment scroll.

"Damn healing scrolls, they need to be used in conjunction with [Purify] to cleanse the wounds, and both scrolls cost 50 energy points?!"

Those damned bastard priests in the church should all be hanged...

Mil was muttering something that Andrebel couldn't understand.

But Andrebelle knew that what Mil held in her hands was worth enough to buy dozens of witches like her.

"Mr. Mil, I am unworthy to use such precious things, please don't..."

Seeing Andrebel instinctively trying to pull his foot out of his palm, Mil couldn't stop him in time.

Before she could react, her body was pulled away, and the girl's feet covered her face.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, Lord Mir, I... I didn't mean to!"

The girl looked at Mil, whom she was "stepping on," and her face turned extremely red.

Shyness, apprehension, unease, fear...

A mix of emotions instantly overwhelmed her, leaving her completely bewildered.

She tried to pull her foot back, but Mir held on tightly, and her calf was injured, so she couldn't exert any force.

Mir was also stunned. Although he liked playing with porridge before he transmigrated, this was the first time he had done it like this.

After a brief silence, he put the girl's feet down, but did not let go.

"Recently I need to go to various towns to stock up on winter supplies, but I can't carry that much stuff by myself."

As he spoke, Mir unrolled the reel.

A soft, pale green light fell on the girl's wound, bringing a tingling sensation.

"If your legs become unusable, buying you will only be a burden to me, and I will even have to pay for your extra food."

So if you're smart enough, don't move, heal your legs as soon as possible, and show your value.

In addition, the black mist is about to spread, and the Soul Lamps are becoming increasingly rare.

The trolls to the south and the goblins to the west have been constantly harassing us lately, the lizard swamp to the north has also begun to show signs of disturbance, and the imperial church to the east is also conducting a large-scale hunt for witches.

Recently, a lot of strange cult members have come to the town; all sorts of bastards from various sequences have arrived here.

The black fog is having too much of an impact; don't make things worse for me.

Also, your feet aren't dirty or smelly, so don't worry, just focus on your treatment.

Mil, whose mind was in a mess after being stepped on, blurted out whatever came to mind in an attempt to change the subject.