Reyn had been warned to stay away from the swordswoman, and though the yearning to speak with her tugged at him, he reluctantly agreed.
The curiosity he felt was overwhelming, but Irvin and Adelia were insistent that he avoid getting involved. "Leave it to those who can handle it," Irvin had said. "You've just recovered; don't go putting yourself at risk again."
For a while, Reyn was able to keep his distance, especially with Irvin and Adelia escorting him to their house to get some medicine. His body still ached from the injuries, and he wasn't in any shape to defy their advice.
As they walked, he tried not to glance back toward the square where the villagers still gathered around Lirael, the Blade Witch.
But on the return journey to his small house, the pull to look back at her grew stronger. It was as though an invisible thread was drawing him closer. He noticed one of the children from the village pointing in his direction, whispering to a friend.
Despite the nagging feeling in his gut that urged him to turn around, Reyn forced himself to keep walking, his eyes fixed ahead.
Once inside his humble home, Reyn closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, letting out a sigh. His gaze drifted to the small wooden table where the vial of medicine sat—green liquid swirling inside like a thick potion.
He picked it up and moved over to the chair by the window, sitting down carefully as he unwrapped the bandages from around his head. The fabric was stained with dried blood, but to his relief, the wounds underneath were mostly shallow now, reduced to faint cuts and bruises.
He opened the vial and poured a few drops onto his fingertips, dabbing the cool liquid onto his skin. It stung, but the sensation quickly faded into a soothing numbness.
Reyn worked the medicine over his face, feeling a little more like himself with each passing moment. He reached for a fresh set of bandages and had just started wrapping them when there was a knock at his door.
Reyn frowned, wondering who it could be. In a village this small, it could be anyone. But as he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.
Standing on his doorstep was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—Lirael Neron, the Blade Witch, and beside her stood the same child who had pointed at him earlier.
Up close, the swordswoman was even more striking, her features refined and framed by raven-black hair tied back loosely, a few strands falling free to soften her otherwise stern expression. Her armor clung to her form, giving her a commanding presence that was difficult to ignore.
"Are you Reyn Lanthorne?" she asked, her voice measured and calm.
Reyn nodded, his throat suddenly dry. "I am. And you must be… the Blade Witch, right?"
A faint blush colored her cheeks, but it quickly vanished as her expression shifted into a slight frown. She seemed almost annoyed by the nickname. "Yes," she replied, her tone curt. "But I'd rather you just call me Lirael."
Reyn swallowed, feeling a bit foolish for bringing up the title. "Uh, right. Sorry. Is there… something you needed?"
Lirael's eyes studied him for a moment before she spoke again. "I wanted to talk to you. Alone, if you don't mind." She glanced down at the child and gave a slight nod. "You can go now."
The child scampered off without a word, leaving Reyn alone with Lirael. He stepped aside and motioned for her to come in, though the small size of his home made it difficult for them to find comfortable space to talk. Lirael remained near the door, leaning slightly against the wall as she crossed her arms.
"I've been tracking a group of bandits," she began, her voice even and serious. "The same ones that attacked you. They've been causing trouble in the region, and there are reports of people being kidnapped—some found dead, others still missing. I need information, and you're the only person who's survived an encounter with them recently."
Reyn hesitated, his mind racing. He remembered the bandits and their cruelty, but there were certain things he couldn't explain—like the woman's kiss and the strange mark that had appeared afterward, or the sudden awakening of the system within him. He wasn't sure he could even understand it himself, let alone explain it to her.
Still, he began recounting his experience, leaving out the parts about the Lustbound System and the mysterious woman. "I was in the forest," he said slowly, "and I stumbled onto their camp by accident. They found me, and I barely managed to escape because of a mistake on their part… I'm lucky to be alive."
Lirael's eyes narrowed slightly as he finished. "And that's all?" she asked, her tone suggesting she wasn't entirely convinced.
"That's all I remember," he said, which wasn't entirely a lie. Even now, his memories of that night were disjointed, and he wasn't sure what was real and what was a feverish dream.
She shook her head, a small sigh escaping her lips. "You're not a fighter," she said bluntly. "You're weak, injured, and untrained. I don't see how you could help me beyond pointing me in the right direction." Her gaze was hard, though not entirely unkind. "If you can describe where their camp was, that will be enough."
Reyn's pride stung at her words, and for a moment, he felt the urge to argue. "I might be weak now," he said, his voice rising slightly, "but I'm not useless. I can show you where they are. Let me help you track them down."
Lirael's expression didn't change. "No. You would slow me down. Your wounds are still healing, and I need to move quickly. This is not a task for a Null."
Reyn's jaw tightened. He knew she was right—he wasn't a warrior, and his encounter with the bandits had nearly cost him his life. But the idea of just sitting back, letting someone else do the fighting, didn't sit well with him. "If you're going to find them, you need me. I was there, I saw their faces, and I can help you get close without being detected."
Her frown deepened as she looked him over, clearly skeptical. "And what if you get in the way? What if you freeze up when the time comes?"
"I won't," Reyn said, though he wasn't entirely sure himself. "Just… give me a chance. Let me prove it to you. If I can't hold my own, I'll back off. You have my word."
For over thirty minutes, he pleaded his case, refusing to back down despite Lirael's repeated refusals. It wasn't until he threatened not to disclose the bandits' exact location that she finally relented, a hint of irritation flashing across her eyes. "Fine," she said at last. "You can come. But I'm not babysitting you. If you slow me down, I'll leave you behind."
Reyn exhaled, relief flooding through him. "I won't," he said confidently.
Lirael straightened up and turned toward the door. "We leave in two days," she announced without looking back at him. "Get yourself ready. If you're not in shape by then, I'll go without you."
With that, she walked away, leaving Reyn standing in his doorway. As he watched her go, he felt a strange mixture of excitement and dread building inside him. This was his chance to face the bandits again and perhaps find answers about what happened to him. But it was also a test—one that could very well end in his death if he wasn't careful.
'Two days,' he thought, tightening his resolve. 'I'll be ready.'