While the Dreadclaws escorted Vi, still astride her mount, Kaelor walked at the rear beside Hound, his eyes fixed on the golden sphere in his hand.
From the remnants of the former Kaelor's memories, he remembered: Acranists, those who wielded the arcane not with chant or scroll but with sheer will and precise signs, were terrifyingly powerful. The display Vi had unleashed, controlling air, fire, and ice in fluid motion, struck a chord deep within him.
She hadn't even spoken. Just a flurry of near-invisible hand movements.
"She's a powerful acranist then," he murmured.
"We could kill her," Hound said casually beside him. "Break that golden thing and be done with it."
Kaelor shook his head. "She's not foolish. If it could be broken that easily, she wouldn't have handed it over. It's called an Oath Ball, unbreakable by force or spell. Only when both parties willingly reverse their oath will it shatter."
Hound blinked slowly. "Then where will she stay?"
Kaelor exhaled. He hadn't considered that. There were no inns in a town barely the size of a large village.
"She'll stay in the town head's house."
"Should I fetch a healer for her wounds then?" Hound asked.
"Yes."
With that, Hound disappeared into the winding paths of the settlement while Kaelor and the others arrived at the Lord's residence. To his surprise, Jon was outside with a pair of scrawny teenage boys, expertly butchering the carcass of the Sunmaw Prowler.
Thick slabs of meat were being carried to a flat stone slab nearby, the boys working without hesitation. The massive beast, nearly skinned, lay sprawled like a conquered monster from myth.
"My Lord," Jon greeted, bowing. The boys mimicked him, lowering their heads with muddy hands and reverent eyes.
Vi blinked.
Her breath caught.
A beast-man, calm and commanding, surrounded by humans who worked with him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Young boys carrying meat as though it wasn't from a predator that could have devoured them whole.
Could it be… she was dead?
Vi had seen many things. She'd lived as aristocrat and commoner, climbed the harsh ladder of merit by founding her own guild. She had fought in cursed forests and lawless borderlands. But this…
This absurdity. This unity.
A beast on two legs, intelligent and more majestic than terrifying, obeyed a man, this man, who ruffled the boys' hair like a brother rather than a ruler.
It felt like witnessing the rebirth of one of the old legends: the Crimson Barbarian Primarch or the more prominent Great Human Emperor… returned in a new form.
And Kaelor, standing before his subjects and the morning sun, smiled.
The silver-haired woman's gaze lingered.
A soft shuffle broke her thoughts, Mildred stepped from the house, froze when she saw Vi, and gasped.
"Lord Kaelor! How could you bring a woman back in this state and leave her like this?!"
Kaelor turned, blinking as though startled.
Only then did he remember the arrows in Vi's back.
'Those wounds… they're the only reason she didn't kill us.'
He fell silent.
When had he become this cold?
His thoughts drifted, since arriving here, he had changed. Back on Earth, he might have panicked, tried to help. But here? Every decision had been survival. Every thought edged in strategy.
When did he bury this side of himself? Did it never showcase itself because of the world he had been living in?
He didn't have time to linger on the thought, Mildred had guided Vi to a stone chair near a dying fire, just as Elsa walked into the yard, Hound trailing behind her.
Kaelor turned, brows raised. "You're a healer?"
Elsa nodded. "Not a professional. But I've dealt with arrow wounds and beast bites before. I'm good with herbs."
"Then treat her."
Vi eyed Elsa with suspicion but said nothing as the two women helped her into the hall. Once inside, Elsa carefully helped her remove the black outercoat and tunic. Beneath it, Vi wore a white cloth tightly wrapped around her chest, soaked slightly with blood from the arrow wounds.
Her skin, fair and supple despite her injuries, was revealed in the firelight.
Elsa's fingers hesitated.
Mildred, ever honest, let out a quiet gasp. "You have…a beautiful skin."
Vi gave her a sidelong glance, but the sharpness in her eyes was gone, replaced with something gentler.
She offered a faint smile.
Inside the lord's hall, Mildred brought out something Kaelor hadn't paid close attention to the first time he saw her perform magic, a sapphire crystal, shaped like a teardrop and etched with delicate runes that glowed faintly in the dim light.
Vi's eyes caught the shimmer, and her brows rose.
'A focus crystal? Here?'
Her gaze flicked to Mildred, who cradled the crystal between her fingers, the soft light pulsing gently as she began to hum a quiet, melodic chant. The crystal shimmered in rhythm with her voice, projecting a calm aura that settled across the room like a comforting blanket.
Vi blinked. 'An Acranist good with illusion… in this backward town?' Her skepticism quickly gave way to dizziness. Her limbs grew heavier, and her breath slowed, not painful, but calming. A light sleepiness overcame her defenses.
Taking the cue, Elsa moved in with practiced hands. She pulled out the arrows one by one, each time with gentle precision. The herbs she had prepared were applied with firm, confident motions, pressed into the wounds with cloth pads before binding them tightly.
Vi didn't scream. Not even once.
….
Outside, Kaelor sat on the low fence, elbows on his knees, his eyes watching the morning mist roll off the Devil Forest in the distance. Hound leaned against the wall beside him, arms crossed over his wide chest, sabers hanging like silent warnings from his belt.
"That woman…" Hound said, his voice casual. "Her scent is nice. She looks pretty."
Kaelor turned his head, slowly, eyebrows lifting.
Hound looked back without shame. "Why not let her stay in your home? It's more comfortable there and—"
"Another word," Kaelor muttered, "and I'll have you doing night patrols. Alone."
Hound snorted but wisely said nothing more.