After getting off the carriage, Ron and Nora followed Jorina into her modest home.
It was still afternoon, and her father wasn't home.
"Since I usually handle the housework, my father doesn't know there's an extra person in the storage room," Jorina explained.
"The storage room is at the end of the hallway, around the corner. Unless you deliberately go there to get something, you wouldn't notice anything unusual."
The three of them walked through the narrow, cramped hallway and arrived at the storage room door.
Jorina took out a key, unlocked it, and pushed the door open.
Shelves lined all four sides of the room, leaving only a small open space in the center—barely enough to fit seven or eight people.
And now, that space was occupied by a bandage-wrapped figure.
He lay on a thin sheet, wearing only a pair of shorts on his lower body. Apart from that—and the areas covered in bandages—everything else was exposed to the air.
His gray-black and white fur was thick and dense, and his protruding wolf snout looked particularly ferocious—enough to make anyone uneasy.
If not for his vaguely humanoid body, Ron might have thought he was looking at an actual wild wolf.
Yet after seeing the beastfolk's true appearance, Ron's first reaction wasn't fear or curiosity—
It was admiration.
Not admiration for the beastfolk, but for those nobles who could bring themselves to sleep with female beastfolk.
As everyone knew, there were two origins for half-beastfolk:
Either a human man with a female beastfolk, or a human woman with a male beastfolk.
Thinking about that while looking at the figure in front of him, Ron couldn't help but twitch at the corners of his eyes.
Still, saving him came first.
Ron took out some Scalevine and handed it to Jorina. "Go boil this into a medicinal soup and feed it to him. I'll check his condition."
Jorina quickly took it, thanking him as she hurried out to the kitchen.
"Boss, couldn't the Scalevine just be eaten directly?" Nora asked.
"Does he look like he can swallow anything on his own?" Ron chuckled. "Besides, I need to assess his condition first. Wouldn't want to save him only for him to harm others afterward."
Ron stepped forward, crouched down, and used both battle aura and magic to examine the beastfolk's injuries.
He hoped this would turn out to be a grateful individual—but it was always best to prepare for the worst.
"How is it, Boss?" Nora asked, leaning in.
"The fact that he's still alive is already a miracle," Ron clicked his tongue.
The beastfolk had several fatal injuries.
The most serious was a strike to the chest that had directly damaged his heart.
Next was a penetrating wound in his lower abdomen.
This injury had caused his Battle Aura Vortex to teeter on the verge of collapse. Without timely treatment, his cultivation would plummet—he might even regress into an ordinary beastfolk.
And now, that worst-case scenario had already happened.
His Battle Aura Vortex was essentially beyond saving.
Once Ron confirmed the existence of the vortex, he was certain this beastfolk wasn't some noble's servant.
Judging by its size, this was at least a mid-level warrior.
What kind of noble would keep a beastfolk warrior of that level as a slave?
Moreover, the injuries on his body varied in depth—there were signs of magic, arrows, and close-range blade wounds.
This clearly wasn't the result of one or two enemies.
It looked more like the injuries of a soldier retreating from a battlefield.
Could he really have escaped from the northern winter war?
Ron was startled by the thought.
From the north all the way to the City of Chaos… that meant crossing nearly the entire human empire.
The winter war had broken out last November. It was now mid-February—how long had this deserter been on the run?
Even with a carriage, the journey from the City of Chaos to the Royal Capital took over ten days.
From the Royal Capital to the three great northern passes—Zhenbei Pass, Bestial Abyss Gate, and Snowfall Gate—would take at least another ten to twenty days.
That already added up to nearly a month.
And that was by carriage.
On foot, it would take at least three or four times longer.
And this beastfolk hadn't just been traveling—he had been carrying all these injuries.
The fact that he hadn't collapsed along the way was nothing short of miraculous.
By that logic, this guy really was ruthless to the extreme.
Still, nothing could be confirmed until he woke up.
Otherwise, a battle-hardened beastfolk posed far greater danger than an ordinary one.
Such individuals might harbor deep hatred toward humans. If he recovered—even with his Battle Aura Vortex ruined—his physical strength alone could still be formidable.
If he suddenly attacked, that would be a serious problem.
"Boss, what do we do after saving him? It feels dangerous to leave him here," Nora said worriedly.
"Once he drinks the medicine and stabilizes, we'll bring him back to the flower shop," Ron replied, standing up. "I'll arrange for someone to keep an eye on him."
Opportunities like this—to closely observe a real beastfolk—were rare.
Letting it slip by would be a waste.
Besides, Ron couldn't stay here waiting for the werewolf to recover.
And leaving everything to Jorina would be risky—if the beastfolk attacked her after recovering, it would be dangerous.
So it was better to bring him back.
With Yuna, a sixth-tier assassin, around, even if the beastfolk fully recovered, there would be no need to worry.
Not to mention his Battle Aura Vortex was already ruined—his strength was less than a tenth of what it once was.
In terms of cultivation alone, he might not even surpass Ron, who was only a second-tier warrior.
While waiting for Jorina to finish the medicine, the werewolf briefly regained consciousness.
Just as Ron was about to ask something, the werewolf's cloudy eyes rolled back—and he fainted again.
He truly was at death's door.
Even if Jorina had gone to the Church of the God of Healing, they likely wouldn't have been able to save him.
After all, healing magic essentially stimulated the patient's own life force.
And this werewolf had very little life force left to draw upon.
Only rare medicinal resources could replenish it.
Most people would never waste such valuable materials on a dying beastfolk.
Fortunately, for Ron, things like Scalevine or resin could be mass-produced given enough time.
Saving one beastfolk was no trouble at all—
As long as he posed no threat.
After deciding on the treatment plan, Ron soon saw Jorina return with the medicine.
Once she carefully fed it to the werewolf, Ron informed her of the plan to move him.
"Huh?" Jorina froze, then quickly nodded. "Th-then I'll leave it to you, Your Highness Ron…"
These past few days, she had been on edge—afraid her father would discover the beastfolk.
At the same time, she worried about what would happen if he died in her home.
Now that Ron was willing to take over, it was the best possible outcome.
She didn't even consider the possibility that Ron might harm the beastfolk.
After all, if he had wanted to kill him, he could have simply refused back at the flower shop.
There would be no need to go through all this trouble.
Wrapping the werewolf in a sheet, Ron carried him into the carriage and transported him back to the flower shop.
Since Nora now slept with Ron, the guest room had been empty for quite some time.
So Ron placed the werewolf directly onto the guest bed.
"That'll do." Ron clapped his hands and turned to Jorina. "During the day, I'll need you to look after him. If he wakes up, notify Nora—or come find me immediately."
"Understood." Jorina nodded seriously.