Orson forced himself to stay calm, suppressing the overwhelming joy in his heart as he turned his attention to the other item.
His gaze flickered with shock.
"...This is…"
A crimson egg?
Wait.
What the hell was Xyla thinking?
"Adventurer," Xyla said gently, "I believe you are someone worthy of trust. Please, take care of him."
Though she spoke with conviction, a trace of unease flashed in her eyes—her hesitation was practically written all over her face.
"...Ahem."
Orson's heart pounded wildly. He forced the twisted, deformed grin on his face back into something resembling sincerity.
He needed to at least pretend to have a conscience.
"Heh… heheh… well, let me just take a closer look first."
His awkward laughter filled the air as he reached out and pulled the egg toward his chest.
But—
Xyla's wide, unblinking eyes remained locked on him, and she refused to let go.