Cyril's intuition was not right, but he had no proof.
So, he simply put aside the numerous thoughts in his mind, put his hands covering his face beside the bathtub, put his small head on his hands, closed his eyes and enjoyed the hot spring.
Probably due to the improvement of his mental strength, Cyril could feel the warm water in the bath tightly surrounding his skin.
This water flow brought a particularly comfortable accumulation, and his spirit also relaxed a lot.
Cyril's blushing cheeks flushed, and her fair skin was glowing with a healthy pink sheen. He felt that it was almost done, so he used magic to conjure himself a black bathrobe.
Then he pushed his hands hard and came out of the bath.
Since Cyril began to soak in the hot springs, Brian sat on the edge of the bed casually, leaning on the head of the bed.
His slender fingers naturally shook the wine glass filled with clear wine, leisurely looking at Cyril who was soaking in the bath.
The opponent's entire body and half of his face were buried in the water, like a small rose floating on the water with only the tip of its petals exposed.
At this moment, when he heard the sound of "crashing", Brian raised his eyelids lazily, and his interested eyes locked on Cyril.
As soon as he came out of the bath, Cyril's hair was still wet.
The black shattered hair on his forehead was wetly draped around his eyebrows, making his fair little face softer and more well-behaved.
As he walked, the water droplets on the wet hair swayed gently.
Crystal clear water droplets rolled down to the tips of his hair, hung tremblingly, and fell onto his long and curled eyelashes in the next second.
Feeling the mist in his vision, Cyril couldn't help but blink his eyes and tilt his head.
The trembling slender eyelashes were overwhelmed at this time, and the round crystal water droplets dripped down to the end of the blushing eyes as he turned his head slightly.
The shallow mist of water shrouded, and at first glance, it was like the glittering light overflowing from the eyes full of spring water.
Brian's eyes flashed slightly, and his eyes darkened.
His eyes flicked over Cyril's wet lips, and he raised his eyebrows inexplicably.
He didn't restrain his unbridled gaze, but his gaze continued to slide down and landed on Cyril's thin and beautiful collarbone.
The straight clavicle, which is slightly sunken, has a graceful line, like a finely crafted work of art.
Between the collarbones on the left and right sides hangs the rose necklace that he personally put on each other, and in the center of the silver rose lies a scarlet gem with a quiet luster.
Further down, the black bathrobe was loosely attached to Cyril, forming a sharp contrast with his smooth and fair skin, bringing a stronger visual impact.
The black bathrobe still dripping with water calmly outlines the boy's slender figure and his flesh and blood.
Cyril looked up at Mr. Scott and was stunned for a moment.
The eyes of the other party at this time were unbelievably deep, as if undercurrents were surging in the mysterious and unpredictable deep sea.
Cyril's footsteps were inadvertent.
His heart, which had calmed down after soaking in the hot spring, began to beat again and again.
Mr. Scott was still astonishingly handsome, but somehow dangerous.
Cyril lowered his eyelashes unintentionally, trying to find something to divert his attention.
As if he suddenly realized something, he cast a drying spell on himself.
As the outline of the mobilization of magic power was completed, a hot wind swept from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.
The hot wind savagely took away the excess moisture from his body, and there was even a dry tingling sensation on his skin.
Cyril felt like a freshly baked, hot toast now.
"come over."
Brian looked at Cyril with a half-smile and said, with a light end.
There was a hint of coaxing hidden in the deep and hoarse voice.
For some reason, Cyril only felt that his legs suddenly became heavy.
He moved slowly to the edge of the bed and sat two places away from Mr. Scott.
Even though they were not far from each other, the other party still showed a palpitating sense of aggression.
Cyril suppressed the strange emotions in his heart, raised his head to look at the other party, and blinked a pair of beautiful almond eyes.
"Mr. Scott... now take the medicine..."
Cyril asked hesitantly.
After he finished asking, he paused, looked around, and found nothing similar to ointment, so he added: "I'll do it myself?"
"Lie down, face up."
Brian calmly nodded towards Cyril, with a faint smile in his voice.
Seeing that Cyril's eyes were filled with a bit of confusion, Brian hooked his lips and explained in a serious manner: "It takes some special techniques to apply this medicine."
The man's composure doesn't seem to be fake.
Cyril nodded and thanked the other party politely.
Afterwards, he touched his nose in embarrassment and slowly lay face up on the bed.
With Cyril lying on his back, his field of vision also changed to the huge dome covered with colored glass, and outside the glass was a deep night.
We can vaguely see tiny lights dotted in the night.
Although Cyril tried his best to focus his attention on the end of his gaze, he instantly felt the mattress beside him sag slightly—Mr. Scott sat beside him.
Obviously the surrounding scenery has not changed, but Cyril feels that the surrounding area has suddenly become a lot crowded.
A slender and powerful hand landed on his chest and slowly took off the bathrobe.
Cyril's body stiffened in an instant, he subconsciously held his breath, and his cheeks bulged quietly.
Brian's movements were very slow, and almost the moment his fingers touched Cyril, he felt Little Rose's straight body.
He let out a low laugh, and unhurriedly pulled the bathrobe away, pretending to take it all off for him.
Before Cyril couldn't help but speak, Brian stopped and looked at the boy's thin and white abdomen.
His eyes lingered over Cyril.
Brian moved his throat, raised his hand slightly, and a small brass jar appeared in his palm.
He opened the lid and poured some of the sticky, transparent liquid inside onto Cyril's skin.
Cyril suddenly felt a chill in his stomach, a feeling that was smoother than ice water entrenched in his stomach.
He subconsciously took a deep breath.
Brian slowly turned his slender fingers and kneaded the warm fingertips gently on Cyril's white and tender skin. He evenly spread the ointment on his fingertips and rubbed back and forth, rubbed gently, and walked away. As if burning a tiny spark.
Cyril only felt a slight itch and numbness spread along the rubbed area, all the way to his heart, and even his little heart seemed to be pinched with ease.
He tried hard to restrain his body's desire to tremble, and the hand on his side could not help but curl up slightly.
For a while, under the sudden force of Brian's fingers, Cyril still made a small "hum" sound.
The sound was light and fluttering, unprovoked with some tide, falling in the surrounding quiet environment, clearly audible.
Brian watched as he exerted his strength, Little Rose's white skin with a translucent luster turned slightly red, and the blush overflowed from his fingertips, holding a pitiful, slaughtered appearance.
He took a deep look at Cyril, recalling the soft touch remaining on his fingertips, his Adam's apple rolled.
The ointment was cold, but Cyril felt that the place where Mr. Scott rubbed his fingers was hot, as if it had penetrated into his pores with the other person's body temperature.
This thought flashed through his mind, and Cyril raised his arm shyly to block his eyes.
If Cyril looked up at the man's face, he could see that his dark blue eyes had turned pure black at this time.
A little golden light flickered in the rich black, as if a golden butterfly fluttering about to fly was enveloped by the thick night.
Brian pulled his fingers away.
He lowered his eyes and whispered a series of complex and twisting incantations.
This time, the strange lines of the abyss immediately emerged.
There are still two patterns like thorns, moving under Cyril's white skin.
Seeing this, the dark shadow in Brian's eyes thickened.
He chanted another series of incantations again.
Cyril suddenly felt that his abdomen began to heat, as if a flame was burning violently under his skin.
He couldn't help clenching his fists.
The light-colored lines began to twitch and twist as if they had been stimulated.
As if to break free from this polluted body, to break out of the ground.
Cyril felt an indescribable pain in his brain, as if a sharp needle had been pierced into his scalp.
His belly was still hot as if it was burning with flames, but the rest of his body seemed to be immersed in ice water, chilling.
Large beads of sweat appeared on Cyril's forehead.
He clenched his teeth and frowned at the unbearable pain.
Brian's eyes fell on Cyril's face again.
Seeing the water glittering in Little Rose's beautiful eyes, her delicate facial features are wrinkled, looking like delicate petals being torn, helpless and fragile.
Like a little more force, it will disappear soon.
Brian swept the traces of pollution in the abyss, and there was a sharp and depressed gloom in his dark eyes.
He began to think that Erlanger was right when he said that the Wizarding Union is a group of food buckets, and even such obvious abyss traces left on the Wizarding Continent could not be found.
Brian suddenly leaned down and stretched out his hand to clasp Cyril's right hand.
His slender and powerful fingers inserted between Cyril's five fingers, and an abundant magic power flowed into Cyril's body from the palm of his hand.
This magic power rampaged in Cyril's body domineeringly, but it gently eased his uncomfortable state.
Except that his abdomen still seemed to be burning, the rest of his body eased.
After a while, the burning sensation in the abdomen gradually disappeared.
At this moment, Cyril's whole figure seemed to be pulled out of the water, and the bright sweat covered his fair skin.
He called the system in his mind and asked:
[Does this medicine work? ]
The system hesitated for a second or two before answering:
[There is good news and bad news, which do you want to hear? 】
Cyril's heart sank.
It seems that the pollution of the abyss has not been completely removed.
The author has something to say: Brian: My wife is the only one who can bully me, how dare the abyss...