Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

Ron folded the letter and put it in his pocket. He had someone prepare a carriage and went out alone.

The carriage stopped in a quiet alley in the south of the city, under the same old elm tree.

The trees were bare in winter, their branches resembling the withered fingers of an old man in the morning light. On the main street not far away, early-rising vendors were still calling out their wares, but this alley was quiet, save for the sound of wheels rolling over the cobblestones.

Ron waited for less than fifteen minutes when a black carriage turned into the alley.

The car door opened, and Elena, wrapped in a dark cloak, poked her head out. Her face was pale from the morning breeze, but her eyes were still bright.

"Hurry up and come inside. Why are you waiting for me outside? It's so cold," she said softly.

To make it easier for the two to meet in secret, Ron bought this small courtyard in the alley.

Upon entering the room, one finds a fireplace that has been lit beforehand, making it warm and cozy.

Elena was dressed very simply today, her hair was tied up in a simple bun, and she wore no makeup, just a simple red lip. But there was something inexplicable about her that attracted Ron.

Do I really like this kind of thing?

But since his surname wasn't Cao, Ron couldn't help but have his suspicions.

Elena leaned against the bedside, looking at Ron, and the corners of her mouth slowly turned up.

"I have to go," she said.

"I know." Ron sat down next to her. "Where's Evan?"

"He's busy checking the goods at the dock. He's too busy to pay attention to me." Elena rested her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know when we'll see each other again after this trip."

"There's always a chance." Ron took her hand; his fingers were icy cold.

"You're just lying to me~"

"You've offended Marquis Mammon, so you'd better be careful in the frontier. If you get into trouble, you can ask me for help," the Viscountess said gently.

"What, you're someone important?" Ron said with a wicked grin.

"Seriously, never mind, I don't think I can help much. Just be careful."

Ron didn't want to talk about these sad topics, so he pinched the Viscountess's pretty face and teased her:

"Look at me, what are we doing?"

"Having an affair! What else could it be?"

"Then hurry up!"

Ron commanded!

"Ugh~~"

The Viscountess and the Viscount bowed down.

This time, the two forgot all their trivial matters and gave each other their all, just like when they first met.

......

After several trials and tribulations, Ron glanced at the Viscountess's eyelids.

Another day has passed.

This is a top student who graduated from the Knight Academy. No wonder he's still stuck in the low-ranking squire stage.

Left with no other choice, Ron fed him the potion again.

The Viscountess slowly regained consciousness.

"No, I can't take it anymore."

"You should take another route back later."

"Oh, again?"

Ron was a little worried, but seeing the Viscountess's determined look, he agreed.

It's better to take a different route; it's safer that way, so we don't get spotted on the way back.

The Viscountess, dragging her ailing body, boarded the returning ship.

Once on board, he collapsed in the cabin and refused to come out.

Viscount Evan asked if he was seasick and feeling unwell.

Evan felt very sorry for his wife, who had suffered along the way with him to develop the land.

I'm too busy to take care of her myself, so I'll have to go and make her a warm soup later.

Ron returned to his lodgings only after watching the Viscountess board the ship.

Call Hart and Abaddon to me:

"Pack your things, we'll head back to Hewan tomorrow morning."

"Sir, we haven't sold all our goods yet..." Hart reminded him.

"I'm not selling it anymore," Ron interrupted him.

"Going back and taking things slowly is just as good. Staying in Oak City is risky; we need to be wary of Marquis Mammon."

Once the lord made his decision, Hart didn't ask any more questions and turned to make the arrangements.

Abaddon stood in the doorway, clenching his fists and speaking in a muffled voice:

"My lord, with me, Abaddon, here, no one can harm you."

Ron patted him on the shoulder:

"Well done!"

"But we don't need to fight him head-on now."

The next morning, Ron led his men out of Oakwood.

The sound of horses' hooves echoed on the stone-paved road as the procession filed out in two lines. On the city wall, a few sentries peeked out before retreating back inside.

Ron, mounted on his horse, glanced back at the outline of Oakwood. In the morning mist, the gray-black city walls resembled a sleeping behemoth, perched on the plain.

Ron instructed his men not to let their guard down, and he himself was prepared for the worst, ready to release Margaret at any time.

However, Ron White had been on guard the whole way, and it seemed that Marquis Mammon had no intention of attacking them for the time being.

We only encountered a few bandits on the road, and these were real bandits.

With so many territories being conquered, quite a few knights inevitably fled.

With nowhere else to go, he became a bandit in the pioneering land.

The group marched for two days and killed two groups of fools.

Finally, we stepped into the territory of the River Bend Territory.

Ron reined in his horse and looked at the familiar fields in the distance.

The serfs were nowhere to be seen in the fields; it was too cold, and they were all huddled indoors to hibernate. Only a few large dogs ran along the field ridges, kicking up small clouds of snow.

On the castle tower, the Broccoli family's banner fluttered in the cold wind.

Back in his territory, Ron was finally relieved.

Ron walked into the small garden.

The thin mist at the edges had receded somewhat, and the space was a whole size larger than it had been a few months ago.

But at this moment, the space was empty, with no knights or squires, no tamed animals—he had cleared them all out beforehand.

Now, apart from Margaret, there is no other living thing left in the small garden.

Only Margaret.

She lay curled up in the middle of the open space, her silvery-white scales gleaming faintly in the dim light.

Its tail rested on the ground, and it remained motionless.

Her breathing was deep and slow, each rise and fall like waves crashing on the shore, carrying a certain ancient rhythm.

When she saw Ron come in, Margaret opened her eyes groggily.

Her blue pupils were somewhat unfocused, as if seen through a layer of mist. She looked at Ron, letting out a low growl.

"Ron...you've come."

Her voice echoed in Ron's mind, much slower than usual.

Ron crouched down and reached out to touch the bridge of her nose. The scales were cold, but the skin underneath was warm.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy." Margaret blinked, then closed her eyes again.

"So sleepy. It feels like... I've slept for a very, very long time, but it also feels like I haven't even started to sleep yet."

"Then go to sleep."

Ron brought in a large wooden crate this time. When he opened it, he found neatly stacked bottles of the original solution inside.

The pale red liquid swayed slightly in the bottle; each bottle was refined by an entry-level magical beast.

"Keep these for you, drink them when you wake up."

Margaret opened her eyes, glanced at the box of raw liquid, and her tail tip twitched slightly.

"I knew you'd skimped on the spending, hmph~"

She tried to reach out her paw to grab it, but then pulled it back after a moment's movement.

"I'll drink it when I wake up..." she muttered.

"I don't want to move right now."

"Um!"