Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest
Chapter 163 - 35: Sanna

Chapter 163: Chapter 35: Sanna

"Can you stand up?"

Roman asked her.

She leaned on the tree root, trying to stand up, but her body swayed.

Roman quickly grabbed her wrist and found that her body temperature was very low, and she was thoroughly chilled.

He took off the soft Mountain Cat Cloak and wrapped it around her, then turned around and carried her on his back, leaving the eerie and shadowy Secret Forest.

Sanna’s spirit was in a daze, nearly killed by wolves, yet in the end, she had been miraculously rescued, experiencing extreme highs and lows, naturally leaving her emotions unsettled. Her cheeks rested against the warm back for a while, her body temperature and thoughts gradually returning to normal.

"Master, you saved me," she murmured.

"Gwivelle said you were missing," she heard in reply.

She had once thought that voice was unattainable, but now she found it so close.

She felt a sour emotion and wept silently.

"I got lost, I didn’t know where I was, I was so scared..."

Sanna sniffled, then added, "You must have looked for me for a long time."

The perilous environment terrified her as if she had been trapped in a massive maze, and she thought she would never find her way out, fearing she would die there.

Roman quietly said, "Not too long."

Just a few hours, over ten kilometers.

It was already evening when Gwivelle sought his help, a large-scale search was not feasible.

Tonight, without the moon, if he dispersed everyone, several might not return the next day.

He couldn’t gamble with their lives; it had to be him who did the searching.

He was a Riptide by surname, his eyes had been refined by extraordinary means, granting him some night vision capability.

After advancing his "Hunting" Skill to level 2, Roman had mastered some tracking skills.

Although it wasn’t to Dota’s extent, the traces Sanna left in the snow were clear and easily tracked.

Now deep into the night, he had been on the move, continuously tracking, worried about Sanna’s safety, but fortunately, he arrived just in time.

Hunting was fraught with peril; not just a little girl, even nobles could meet harsh fates.

But since he had taken the child with him, he felt obligated to protect her life.

She asked, "Are you going to blame me?"

Roman said, "You have already received your due punishment."

This lesson was deeply ingrained; Sanna felt she would never forget it, just like she could never forget the great fire in the little fishing village.

But unlike last time, when her family was destroyed, and she wandered homeless, constantly in fear, following Kao with no knowledge of what the future held,

this time, she felt warmth and reassurance, as the dangers and fears in the darkness faded away.

"I was with Gwivelle, picking fruit..."

Roman listened to her recount the events, which matched what Gwivelle had said, but Sanna brought up a recent incident.

"You said, Gwivelle cursed you?" His brow furrowed; the situation had developed beyond his expectations.

She cautiously said, "She didn’t mean it."

Roman knew this truth.

Who hasn’t, in their childhood, let their emotions get the better of them and spoken harsh words?

But Gwivelle was somewhat special.

She was immature, yet she possessed supernatural power.

He should have thought of it earlier, but Gwivelle’s good behavior had made him overlook this possibility, making him think she was only capable of causing minor mischief.

But he knew little about witches and didn’t realize that they couldn’t be judged by common sense.

He had merely given her some Holy Salt to suppress her powers, yet Gwivelle had still brought Sanna to such a miserable state.

Roman felt it was necessary to reassess Gwivelle and her powers.

"I’ll talk to her," Roman said.

She heard his calm words and did not detect any harshness, secretly breathing a sigh of relief.

Everyone in the manor knew of Roman’s fondness for Gwivelle, just as he doted on other Chamberlains. He always showed patience and kindness to those around him, and only a few had the privilege of his favor.

When she calmed down, Sanna realized she was wrapped in such a soft cloak.

She heard from Kao that Captain Dota had hunted five or six lynxes whose fur, warm and light, was mottled with grey and black spots. The leatherworker had carefully tanned the lynx furs and presented them to Roman.

This type of soft, expensive fur coat, priced in gold, was something only nobles could afford. Yet now, it draped over her, carrying his warmth, making her feel cozy and greatly relieving the ankle pain that before felt like it was fractured.

Then, she smelled a rich scent, lingering around her nose.

She couldn’t identify it, but felt a strong attraction, making her heart begin to thump wildly.

It was a strange feeling.

That young and vibrant heart had been beating for over a decade, but it had never thumped at such a rhythm before.

Her cheeks also started to heat up. She didn’t know why; it was like sitting in a small boat, swaying on the sea, making her slightly intoxicated and enchanted.

She suddenly understood Kao a little.

His absolute obedience and protective nature toward his master, which she previously thought was madness or bewitchment. That young nobleman must have ensnared his soul.

But she hadn’t been like that before; she avoided him as much as possible.

They shouldn’t have intersected, a great divide was felt between them; she believed they were not from the same world, even conversing seemed a mistake.

But now, she had changed her mind.

He wasn’t untouchable, but rather, close at hand. His voice was also pleasant, noble and elegant, resonating in her ears.

His body heat was warm, like a cozy furnace.

And his scent was appealing, she couldn’t quite place it, but her intuition told her, it was the scent of a man, a strong man’s scent.

Not grime or rawness, but a sunny scent? A campfire scent?

Especially enticing in the cold winter night.

Her senses now sharp, she could smell his scent all over the thick, soft fur coat, and she too was enwrapped in that rich aroma, as if swimming in an ocean.

Her heated cheeks turned brighter red, more and more so. She instinctively wanted to do something, yet didn’t know how to vent the budding feelings inside her.

I must be sick! she thought, biting her lip silently.

Her body shifted slightly, and Roman, noticing it, thought Sanna must be uneasy or her ankle was in pain, so he reassured her with a soothing voice, "We’ll be there soon."

Sanna, startled by his voice, immediately pulled back all her thoughts, refraining from rash actions, quietly pressing her cheek against his back.

The girl suddenly felt a bit sad.

Would she be able to do this tomorrow, once they reached the manor?

...

Dawn slowly broke.

Roman brought Sanna back to the winter hunting camp.

The guard on duty told him that Gwivelle had waited for him for most of the night, fell asleep while waiting, and they had carried her back to her tent.

When Roman put Sanna down, he found she had fallen into a deep, sweet sleep.

He had not slept all night, and at this moment, both tired and sleepy, he covered both of them with the Mountain Cat Cloak, after arranging for the next day’s affairs, he too returned to his tent to rest.