If this power were used properly, whether for blocking blades or for surprise attacks, it would be perfect.
"Breakfast time!"
Ilena's clear shout pierced through the morning mist, startling Serie, who was lost in thought.
She quickly put down her sleeve and walked towards the wooden house.
A moment later, Serie sat on a rough wooden stool, with golden-fried potato pancakes and sour cream in front of her, and a steaming bowl of buckwheat porridge beside them.
She forked a piece of potato pancake and took a bite. The crispy outside and tender inside brightened her eyes, but it was clearly lacking some salt.
Ilena also noticed, her blue eyes looking uneasily at Grandma: "Grandma, are we out of salt?"
Marfa Grandma sighed: "The salt shaker ran out yesterday."
A sudden silence fell over the dining table, leaving Serie a bit confused.
It was just a lack of salt, why did the atmosphere suddenly become so heavy?
"What happened?" Serie asked softly.
"A group of gangsters came to the nearest town a few years ago," the Old Woman said, looking out at the snowy ground, her wrinkles hiding endless weariness. "Ilena's father had a deep grudge with them."
"They also burned down our house in town," Ilena's fingers unconsciously twisted the edge of the tablecloth. "So Grandma and I moved here..."
Serie more or less understood.
For this lonely grandmother and granddaughter, going to the town controlled by gangsters to buy things was a very dangerous matter, which was why they reacted this way.
"How about... I go to town and buy them for you?" Serie suggested.
Although she already knew that the Control Bureau had designated this area as an A-grade potential anomaly active zone, she now had "Flying Fire Meteor" at hand.
As long as she was careful, there shouldn shouldn't be any problems.
Worry appeared on Marfa Grandma's wrinkled face: "Child, I appreciate your kindness, but you were still... We can't let an injured person walk so far in this weather..."
"Grandma, she's really amazing. She just helped me chop a lot of firewood," Ilena recounted what had just happened.
"Really?" Marfa Grandma looked at Serie in surprise: "My naughty boy stayed in bed for half a year after breaking a bone, and you..."
Serie just smiled slightly, without explaining.
Fortunately, Marfa Grandma didn't ask further.
Since Serie had already said so much, Marfa Grandma didn't continue to decline. She took out a faded embroidered purse from her apron pocket, took out a few crumpled rubles, and then took out a yellowed piece of paper from an iron box next to the stove:
"Two bags of salt... Oh, and some needles and thread. My old cotton padded jacket needs mending."
"Bring back a few kerosene lamp wicks. The days are short in winter."
"If there's cheap soap, bring two bars too."
"Oh, right, Ilena's boots need new soles. Ask Old Peter the shoemaker..."
"Bring some sugar and flour too, the holiday is coming soon..."
"Ah, and..."
Marfa Grandma's voice gradually faded, and she rubbed her hands a bit awkwardly: "Look at me, once I start talking, I can't stop. In this freezing weather, and you're not fully recovered, I really shouldn't ask you to bring so many things..."
Serie took the densely written list, smiled, and gently shook her head: "It's fine, I should do it."
After bidding farewell to the grandmother and granddaughter, Serie had just stepped out of the wooden house's doorway, her boots making a soft "creak" on the snow.
"Wait, wait a moment!"
Urgent footsteps came from behind her.
Serie turned around and saw Ilena chasing after her, panting, the girl's cheeks flushed from running.
"Um..." Ilena twisted the edge of her apron, her eyes fixed on the ground, "Those people in black leather in town..." Her voice grew softer and softer, "You... you must avoid them..."
Serie looked at the girl's nervous expression and couldn't help but soften her voice: "I'll be careful."
Ilena finally looked up, her blue eyes full of worry: "They... they often hang around the market and the bar..." She bit her lower lip, "If you see them, just run away quickly..."
A cold wind blew, and Ilena shivered, but still insisted on finishing: "Also... you must be back before dark. The path in the forest is difficult, and there are often brown bears around..."
Serie looked at the girl's red cheeks and nose, frozen from the cold, and suddenly reached out to tuck her loose scarf: "Don't worry, I'll be back very soon." Her fingertips brushed Ilena's chin inadvertently, touching a cold spot. "Go inside quickly, it's cold out here."
Ilena's face flushed even redder. She nodded frantically, turned, and ran back into the house, but stopped at the doorway again: "Um... be careful on your way!"
The wooden door closed with a "bang," and Serie's lips unconsciously curved upwards.
She turned to look at the snow-covered forest path in the distance, a golden-red light flashing in her amber pupils.
Having just recovered from a serious illness, Serie stretched her limbs, her joints making crisp sounds.
She was just looking for a suitable "warm-up exercise."
It would be best if a few gangsters came...
Or a few stinky bears would do too.
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