The rain began shortly before dusk. At first it was a light drizzle, almost imperceptible, but soon the sound of droplets on the carriage's wooden roof became constant. Liza tightened the reins, guiding the horses along the mountain path. It wasn't the shortest route, but it was the safest—the other side was so steep that a single misplaced wheel could send them tumbling into the void.
The sky was covered with heavy clouds. The air smelled of moisture and wet stone. Tama and Pochi had fallen asleep, leaning against each other. Hans, invisible to anyone unaware of his presence, traveled in silence within Satoru's shadow.
"Master," Liza said after a while, "there seems to be a cabin ahead."
Satoru slightly leaned out of the carriage. Through the mist, a small wooden structure could be seen, its roof slanted and its chimney long gone cold.
"We'll stop there," he ordered.
The carriage approached slowly. Rain fell in thin lines, sliding down the walls of the cabin. The door, though old, was closed; its hinges rusted, but the structure itself seemed solid.
Liza stepped down first, inspecting the area. There were no signs of recent occupants, only footprints nearly erased by the rain. Hans emerged from the shadow and slipped silently among the trees to check the surroundings.
Satoru studied the place in silence before entering. The inside was clean. There was dust, yes, but no stench of decay. A few chairs, a table overturned in one corner, utensils still in good condition. It didn't look like it had been abandoned long ago—he even saw a bed.
"Is it safe to stay here?" Liza asked.
"Yes," Satoru replied, his gaze moving across every corner. "Better than sleeping in the rain."
He walked to a broken window and looked out toward the forest. The rain had turned into a thick fog that blanketed the path. For a moment, his mind drifted elsewhere. In the original story, around this very stretch, Satou had encountered a merchant's carriage under attack by a pack of wolves. By the time he reached them, only a young couple remained alive.
Satoru watched the slope for a moment, and without any change of expression, thought that those people were probably already dead.
Nothing more than a fact.
***
The night had fallen, and the rain still hadn't stopped. Inside the cabin, Liza and the girls had used a large tub they'd bought in the last city. With a thermal stone to heat the water and an enchanted canteen to fill it, the task was simple enough.
Tama and Pochi splashed around with muffled laughter while Liza checked the temperature. None of them seemed the least bit embarrassed to undress; after so long traveling together, nudity had lost all weight. Satoru sat off to the side, giving them only a brief glance. He had seen the same scene too many times to feel anything about it.
Bathing outdoors seemed to be a common practice in this world. Even in inns, it was typical for guests to share water drawn from a well.
"Master," said Liza, as the girls came out wrapped in towels, "if you wish, I can prepare more water for you."
"That's fine," Satoru replied, standing up. "Help me once you're done with them."
Tama and Pochi looked at him curiously.
"Master, should we help too?" Tama asked, tilting her head.
Pochi watched her and immediately nodded, as if agreeing with the idea.
"Not necessary." Satoru's tone was firm but not harsh. "Keep watch outside while it's my turn."
Both nodded in unison. They hurried to dry off, dressed in their light travel clothes, and still wrapped in steam, ran to the door with quick steps and faint laughter that disappeared into the sound of rain.
Liza finished filling the tub shortly after and straightened up in silence. The warm water released a faint vapor that drifted through the room. Satoru set his cloak aside, unfastened the rest of his clothes with calm movements, and without looking at her, said:
"You haven't taken a bath either."
Liza stopped, towel in hand.
"Master… I can wait my turn."
"There's no need," he replied serenely. "Join me."
His voice carried no ulterior tone. It was a simple order, like any other. Yet the silence that followed felt heavier than before.
Liza raised her eyes, surprised. When her gaze met his, Satoru finished removing his shirt and she turned away at once. The sound of water breaking the quiet was the only thing that filled the room.
Her lips parted slightly, wanting to say something, but no words came. She scolded herself for the reaction.
Don't overthink it. He's your master. Nothing more. You're a slave, a demi-human at that; remember your place.
Meanwhile, Satoru was already in the tub, the water reaching up to his chest. The steam blurred the firelight, tracing shadows over his face. He watched Liza as she slowly removed her light armor and the garments beneath it.
Her body was slender, firm, marked with old scars. Scales traced along her neck, shoulders, forearms, part of her back and sides. In contrast with her skin, they looked like fragments of natural armor.
She didn't have a voluptuous figure, but carried her own kind of grace.
Satoru looked at her without shame or desire, but with a calm expression that was hard to read. In his mind, he wasn't analyzing her form or how the light outlined her shape—he was thinking about what this woman represented.
When he had lost his way, she was the one who held him together. Not through strength, but through loyalty.
He wanted to thank her in a way befitting of him—to act as the kind of lord she deserved to serve.
But… was he really that kind of lord?
Liza was, in essence, a knight.
And he… was everything but that.
He had thought more than once that, when all this ended, he would grant her enough wealth and skills to live free of anyone. It would be his way of repaying her, of releasing her from his cause.
However…
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw her stop moving.
At first, Liza had tried to keep her composure, moving naturally, but once completely exposed, she instinctively covered herself with her arms, her tail flicking nervously as if to hide her body.
Satoru watched her in silence for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and spoke softly:
"Come in."
She hesitated for only a moment before obeying.
Liza stepped in without a word. The water, heated for her master, reached almost up to her shoulders; her red hair floated gently around her.
The steam made the air shimmer; each breath blended with the soft sound of droplets falling from the ceiling.
Satoru glanced toward the door, where beyond it, Tama and Pochi should be standing. He thought it best to keep them away from any conversation that might happen inside.
"Come closer," he said in a low voice.
Liza tensed; his tone was calm but left no room for doubt.
"Y-yes, Master," she answered, barely audible.
She moved forward a little, the water rippling around her movements. Satoru, his eyes fixed on her, gestured lightly to his side.
"Closer. Sit beside me."
Liza hesitated, then obeyed. The distance between them closed until her shoulder brushed his.
The contact was minimal, but enough for her to hold her breath.
The air thickened with tension. Satoru knew exactly what effect his presence had—he wasn't ignorant of his own appearance. He could feel it in the faint tremor of the water, in the shallow rhythm of her breathing.
He wasn't doing it out of cruelty or pride. He simply wanted to understand something: why Liza, knowing what he truly was, remained so willing to stay by his side.
If she still hadn't understood it…
"Liza," he said at last, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. "What do you think of me?"
She looked up, startled, and before she could respond, Satoru leaned forward, placing both hands on the rim of the tub. He surrounded her—not as a threat, but as a shadow that enclosed her completely.
The difference between them couldn't be clearer. Satoru towered over her by at least two heads; his body, firm and strong, dwarfed her slender frame.
For a moment, Liza didn't speak. Her eyes caught the moonlight falling across his face, while his features remained half-hidden in shadow, his blue eyes glowing faintly in the dimness.
"I'm not a hero. I'm not a good person." His gaze was sharp, a cold glint that seemed to slice through the air. "I'm not even human. This form isn't what I truly am. Haven't you ever thought it dangerous to stay by my side?"
For a while, the only sound was the murmur of water dripping from his hair.
Liza looked at him with a mixture of sadness and resolve.
She already knew. From the very beginning, she had understood that her master didn't belong to the same world as they did. She had seen his power—had felt it that night when the ground trembled beneath her feet and the sky turned black.
She had watched the bandits fall one after another under his hands, turned to dust without a single flicker of emotion on his face.
Liza had never thought of herself as an idealist; she, too, was capable of striking down enemies without hesitation, understanding the necessity of it. She had never felt guilt for the lives she'd taken—whether criminals or beasts of the wild.
But the way her master dealt with his enemies was different.
Satoru didn't see them as people, but as harvests.
Her master was a being who could command demons themselves.
So… was she afraid of him?
No, she wasn't.
The world was cruel; kindness was a luxury. The powerful did as they pleased with the weak.
In the end, what mattered was how that power was wielded.
And before this man—this being—more powerful than anything she had ever known…
Should she fear him?
The man who had saved them, who had fed them, who had taught them to read.
The one who gave them a reason to keep living, who let her see Tama and Pochi smile again, who never left them behind.
Liza lowered her gaze, the water trembling slightly around her arms.
"At first…" she said softly, "I thought you were just someone who didn't know how to talk to others. Intimidating, yes, but… somehow kind."
Her eyes hardened, as though the memories of battle crossed her mind.
"Then I realized that wasn't true. That your nature was something else entirely. But even so…" she lifted her head and met his eyes with steady resolve, "I will never regret following you."
That image—
The image of her master, wounded, bleeding, exhausted, his eyes hollow.
She could never forget it, because that was the day she truly saw him.
Not as a monster.
Not as a hero.
Not as a killer.
But as a person—someone she didn't want to leave alone.
Satoru watched her in silence. His expression didn't change, but for an instant, the reflection of the fire in his eyes seemed to soften.
The tension in the air didn't fade—it shifted into something else: a silent recognition, a mutual understanding that needed no words.
***
The water began to cool when they finally stepped out of the tub. The cabin's air felt colder than before.
Liza brushed her red hair from her face and took a towel, steam falling slowly from her skin.
Satoru, still standing, turned toward her. His eyes traced the scars crossing her back, her arms, her calloused hands. Old marks—some almost gone, others still visible—remnants of punishments and hard labor. Her body, though slender, carried the strength of someone who had survived too much.
Liza stepped closer with a towel in hand.
"Allow me, Master," she murmured.
Satoru nodded. Her movements were slow and careful; when her hands touched him, she noticed that his skin, even after the bath, held a strange chill—as though warmth could never quite stay. And yet, compared to the cold air of the night, that chill felt… warm.
She, in turn, allowed herself to look at him. His back was firm and unscarred, while the front of his body bore the marks of recent wounds—traces of fire and steel. No words could describe the difference between them: a history of oppression on one side, and one of war on the other.
When she finished, he took another towel and held it out to her.
"Now you."
Liza hesitated, then let him. Her skin was still warm from the bath, but the faint tremor of her arms betrayed her—not from cold, but from something else.
Satoru said nothing. He dried her with the same calm as always, neither hurried nor rough. There were still many things he didn't know, many he didn't understand, especially in moments like this, but for now, he simply allowed himself to share her presence.
When they were both done, Liza dressed in silence.
He did the same. As he fastened the last clasp of his cloak, he thought perhaps he had overanalyzed the matter—but the truth was that his decision had been made long before.
It seems I was worried for nothing.
Soon, he would kill someone. Not an enemy, not a threat, but a person who—under any other standard—might be called good.
Naturally, he felt neither remorse nor guilt. He needed that person's knowledge to advance his research. That was a decision he had already made, and nothing would change it.
Satoru needed to know what was in Liza's heart before acting.
If she had shown hesitation—if her gaze had faltered—he would have left her behind at the next town and departed with Hans alone to seek the alchemist.
But she hadn't.
And somehow, that made him feel lighter.
Setting those thoughts aside, Satoru adjusted his cloak and walked toward the door.
When he opened it, he found Liza standing right in the doorway. She had stopped mid-step, her head slightly lowered, her face still faintly flushed.
Beyond her, leaning against one of the outer walls, Hans waited.
The ninja opened his eyes slightly at the sound of the door. He had arrived long before, but had stayed outside in silence, waiting.
And of course, with his senses, he had realized everything that had happened.
Liza tensed the moment she noticed him. The reaction was immediate—like being caught doing something improper.
Satoru noticed the nuance, but gave it no weight.
"Hans," he said in his usual tone, "what did you find?"
Hans straightened slowly, shaking the water from his hood.
"Nothing unexpected, my lord. The rain drove away the beasts nearby. I found traces of a carriage farther north, near the main path. It was completely destroyed, crushed by something heavy—likely a rock."
"The bodies?"
"Gone," Hans replied. "Nature has taken care of them."
Satoru nodded. There was no surprise in his expression—it was the logical result of time and the indifference of the world.
"I see. We leave at dawn."
Hans bowed slightly in acknowledgment.
Liza, still carrying an embarrassed look, stepped aside to let her master pass.
No one else spoke.
Only the sound of rain dripping through the branches accompanied their silence, as if the night itself wished to erase any trace of what had happened inside that cabin.
***
Dawn arrived beneath a veil of gray mist. The rain had stopped, but the ground was still damp, and each step of the horses splashed softly through the mud.
The group moved with their usual rhythm. Liza held the reins steady; Hans advanced ahead, invisible among the trees' shadows. Tama and Pochi followed the carriage's trail, keeping themselves entertained by collecting stones, branches, and imitating the shapes of the hoofprints left behind.
Satoru watched the landscape. The mountains rose beside the road, cloaked in fog. The morning's moisture made the leaves glimmer, each one carrying its own shard of light.
There was silence. Not the heavy kind, but a steady calm broken only by the horses' trotting and the creak of the wheels rolling over the wet earth.
From time to time, Liza glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes met her master's for only a second before returning to the path. She could still feel the echo of what had happened the night before, but Satoru seemed to have left it behind entirely, as if nothing had occurred.
In some ways, that steadiness comforted her. In others, it unsettled her even more.
Hans reappeared shortly before noon. He dropped down from a nearby branch, his form wreathed in the faint vapor still rising from the forest.
"The road to Noukii is clear," he reported flatly. "Recent merchant tracks—nothing hostile."
"Good," Satoru replied without raising his voice.
Hans nodded once and vanished again, returning to his position within the trees.
The journey went on without incident. The clouds gradually broke apart, and the sunlight filtered through the branches, bathing the scenery in a pale glow.
Not long after, when the sun reached its zenith, the watchtowers of Noukii appeared through the trees.
Noukii—
A small city, smaller than Seiryuu, yet large enough to have its own guild, low walls, and a local order of knights. On the surface, it was a peaceful place.
As they approached the gates, the guards followed standard procedure. The letters Satoru had received in Seiryuu were more than enough to grant them entry without issue.
The carriage moved through the narrow streets until it reached an inn near the town center. It wasn't the finest, but it was clean and well kept. Thanks to their master's credentials, Liza and the girls were given their own room—far better than the stable lofts they had often used in the past.
While they unpacked, Satoru stood by the window on the second floor. The streets were narrow, filled with the smell of damp wood and freshly baked bread.
Beyond the city walls, past the fields, stretched a dark line barely visible to the naked eye—
the Forest of Illusions.
That was where his goal awaited.
Satoru remained there for a long time, his gaze fixed in that direction.
There was no impatience in his expression, only a calm expectancy—
the kind that comes from someone who has already accepted the inevitable.
*****
Author's Note
Here's Chapter 24.
This time the focus shifts toward Satoru and Liza — their relationship, and how everything that happened before still echoes in the way they see each other.
The twins don't get much focus here, but that's intentional. They're still children, and I want to keep that sense of innocence for a while longer. Their time will come.
That's all for now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that this moment between them was as meaningful to you as it was to write.
See you next time.
If you'd like to read chapters in advance, you can check out my Patreon: patreon.com/GreenHistories