Ever since the tukets brought the salamander home, two people stayed in the workshop, Karon and Clinston, and watched the kiln alternate at night.
Sometimes Taketto stays and helps me, but he fills in the holes that Karon missed because of the Magic Beast Poacher's job, so I couldn't let him spend that much time on this.
The weak salamander was finally able to continuously harvest medicine and nutrition by mixing it with his favorite firefly. From there, the formulation is changed gradually as the physical condition changes, and the treatment is carried out while investigating what works and how much.
The color of the salamander sometimes decreased slightly, but on the contrary, it became more black and repeatedly retreated.
About two weeks have passed since we protected the salamander.
Karon was sweating at the workshop table. There must have been a lot of fatigue on the days of the invisible treatment.
When I was paddling my head over the elbow on the workbench, I was pulled back from my dream with a sudden loud voice.
"Karon! Karon! Come here!!
It's Clinton's voice. Besides, she seems to be in a hurry.
To the voice that was heard from the kiln, Karon fixed the glasses that were about to fall with his fingers, and as soon as he stood up, he turned towards the voice.
Maybe the salamander's condition has changed dramatically. I have such a nasty heartbeat.
Near the kiln, Criston was peeking inside from the entrance to the kiln, mostly with his head on the ground. Caron grabs Criston's collar and pulls it apart, worrying about burning his face if he gets too close.
"What's wrong?
When asked, he woke up. Then he pointed to the slate beside the kiln.
It is a stone tablet made of stone material of a feverish nature on which the salamander has been riding. There is a handle on the end, and when feeding or medicating a salamander, pull it out with a scorching stick.
But now I'm not riding anything on that tablet.
When Karon checked it out a few hours ago, there was a black salamander lying on the tablet.
He nodded loudly when he asked Clinston with his eyes.
"I was just checking the number of salamanders in the kiln. There is no doubt that the number has not decreased. Look, there's a guy in the corner of that kiln that's only black at the tip of his tail. Maybe that's it."
Karon also lowers his posture and peeks through the entrance to the kiln to see the salamanders moving around.
Among them was a black one with a tail tip.
"What? Is that it?
Criston nodded loudly at Karon's doubts.
"I'm not quite sure yet, but it looks like my body has returned quite a bit."
Indeed, the tail and toes remained black, but the torso and face were red and yellow compared to other salamanders. Besides, it's moving.
I haven't been as active as the other salamanders yet, but I've been walking secretly and riding on other salamanders.
Though it may not have fully recovered, it looks like it would have died by yesterday.
I couldn't believe it. When I lifted my face from the kiln, I looked at Clinston.
"At last, the medicine seems to be working. The temperature began to rise.... the pass seems to have crossed."
He slightly distorted his face, and it seemed no more than words.
Karon gently slaps Clinston's shoulders as he leans over and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.
"You did it.... after all, you're a great guy."
It was a word that came out of my heart.
Criston sneezes and laughs illuminatingly.
"Everyone helped me. Because it happened. Thanks to that."
Yes, Criston murmured.
I'm sure there will be a sole.
But without him, I don't know how much help this salamander could have gotten, or the monsters that the Magic Beast Poaching Control Office has been protecting.
The rate of natural return would have been much lower.
He will probably never be on the stage again, but he is certain to support the important backbone of Witchbeast protection.
At that time, a lively voice was heard outside the workshop grounds. I can hear the voices of the children.
I wonder what it is. As he turned his gaze toward the gate, a large black body hidden in the hedge appeared nuffled.
It's Ulu.
And on top of that, Taketo and Chante. And...
"What? Why are you guys so far away...?"
Clinston speaks up.
On top of Ulu, there were lots of Wesen children on board.
One on top of my head.
Two of them are caught in the tail.
There is only one person riding between the tacket and the chante.
At the same time, there is one person on the back of the tacket.
Every child is familiar.
Everyone, the children of Criston.
Seven or eight years old on top and about a year on the bottom.
As Ulu lay face down, the straw came down and the children rushed to Criston.
The kid who was babbling on the tacket also ran off to his father with his limp.
Some have ears that resemble Criston, while others have pins and upward facing ears. He'll look like his wife. Some of them were animalized, while others were humanized.
But all the kids are mofs who don't want to split the puppy's cuteness with the human child's cuteness.
"Ton-chan!
"Sachin, I'm not coming back, so I'm ashamed!
"You know, you know... Bran, I used it for the first time yesterday!
"Dad, why aren't you back?
Cha!
I must have been sleeping in the workshop for a while, and while I hadn't seen him, I had a lot to say. I hugged Criston as I chatted first like I cut a weir.