บท 67: The Angel From Heavens

Under the relentless downpour, Vyan and Clyde galloped through the muddy trail, their horses' hooves thudding with a steady, soggy rhythm. 

Clyde squinted through the sheets of rain, his usually bright, joyful eyes struggling to pierce the watery veil.

"We couldn't have picked a worse time for a joyride," Vyan shouted over the storm, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

His horse snorted, shaking its head as if to agree with its rider.

"This isn't a joyride, Vyan. There is a village at the end of this long road that needs us," Clyde shot back, urging his horse to go faster.

Vyan rolled his eyes, reluctantly kicking his horse into a faster pace to match Clyde. He cringed at the sight of how soaked Clyde was, while he remained completely dry under a magic shield he had been using all along.

"Why are we in such a hurry, Clyde?" Vyan inquired, his tone laced with apathy. "What can I even do? I am not a healer."