396 Resurrection of the Dead_1

Barlus looked at the cup in front of him, a flicker of surprise passing through his golden eyes, as the pink drink emitted a scent he had never encountered before.

He glanced at the grains of salt sticking near the rim of the glass, when suddenly a voice rang out in his mind.

Lick it! Lick it!

He heeded the inner call, gently licked the edge of the glass, then scooped up the drink with his tongue in the typical manner of cat drinking, his barbed tongue acting like a spoon, scooping up the liquid within.

After a few licks, he felt his tongue ignite, a warm current spreading throughout his diminutive body.

This marvelous sensation delighted him immensely, and his body became much lighter, as if he could fly.

At that moment, he heard the familiar sound of wind chimes, the same kind that he had heard in the pitch-black corridors of the ancient tomb.

He turned his head, looking toward the door.

A figure swathed in bandages entered, emitting an aroma all too familiar to him.