You’ve suffered, my friend

Viktor had, at some point, crawled back to where Cyra and Zane were.

“Zane, now’s the right time to bathe… it’s blowing hot air,” Viktor groaned, fanning himself as he moved toward Zane.

His skin had turned red from the heat, and his mood had dropped—a stark contrast to when their journey began.

Cyra wasn’t doing any better. She lay flat on her back with a bedcover wrapped around her like a mummy.

“Bring me some ice chunks,” she mumbled from beneath the covers.

“Alright,” Viktor replied, dragging Zane into his space with him.

As soon as they stepped inside, they both sighed in relief as the unbearable heat vanished, and their bodies instantly cooled.

“Haa… I don’t want to go out again,” Viktor muttered, heading straight for the kitchen.

He pulled out two drink bottles from the thermocooler, handed one to Zane, then pressed the cold bottle against his forehead with a sigh of pure bliss.