My Grim Reaper Class: I can kill anything.

Chapter 76: Shield

The path to the Sael’thoryn mansion ruins took approximately twenty minutes.

Nathan walked beside Liaraen at a slow pace. She didn’t speak during the journey. Her aristocratic posture had restored itself with more rigidity than she’d shown at any point during the journey. Hands clasped in front of her travel dress. Chin slightly raised. Gaze forward.

Nathan glanced at her periodically.

Without commenting.

Applying exactly Kalen’s instruction.

*Just stay with her.*

*Don’t solve.*

*Don’t try to turn this into something I can fix.*

They reached the tree’s base.

The colossal tree still stood. The trunk’s organic structure had survived the six weeks of abandonment. But the rooms built around the trunk hadn’t survived the same way.

The balconies hung at incorrect angles. The circular windows had lost their carved frames and were now just holes in the living wood. The walkways Nathan had been able to see from a distance were partially collapsed. And from the interior rooms on the tree’s higher levels, a faint light filtered through, suggesting that vegetation had begun to grow inside the abandoned spaces.

Liaraen stopped approximately ten meters from the tree’s base.

She looked up.

Nathan stopped beside her.

He waited.

She didn’t speak for nearly a full minute.

Then she said:

"Mr. Voss."

"Yes?"

"The organic structure has withstood the abandonment with relative dignity."

Nathan looked at her.

*She’s using aristocratic vocabulary.*

*She’s assessing the mansion as if it were a diplomatic document.*

*Not as her home.*

*Good. That’s her mechanism. I’ll respect it.*

"Apparently so," Nathan replied.

"The third-level balconies will require extreme structural restoration."

"I see."

"And the second-level windows will likely require complete frame replacement."

"Understood."

"The main pillars, however, appear intact."

"Understood."

Silence.

Liaraen kept looking at the tree.

Nathan stood beside her.

After approximately thirty more seconds, she spoke again.

"Mr. Voss."

"Yes?"

"I’m not going to enter today."

"Understood."

"The structure is potentially unstable. It would be imprudent to access without prior technical assessment."

"Apparently."

"I’m going to coordinate with the administrators for an assessment in the coming days."

"Acceptable."

She slowly turned to Nathan.

With her aristocratic posture maintained at maximum effort.

With her pale green eyes in their usual controlled position.

With no visible tears at all.

"Mr. Voss."

"Yes?"

"Apparently my uncles are about to arrive. We should return to the main path to receive them appropriately."

Nathan looked at her for a moment.

*She’s using the full register.*

*The register she used with me on the first day.*

*When I pulled her out of the box.*

*When she had no other defense available but aristocracy.*

*Good.*

*I’ll give her space.*

"As you wish," Nathan replied.

They began walking back.

Liaraen didn’t speak during the entire journey.

Her posture remained identical.

And her hands, when Nathan glanced sideways about halfway back, had stopped trembling.

They’d stopped trembling at some point during the visit to the tree.

As if something inside her had decided, with absolute precision, that trembling was a response she wasn’t going to allow herself to have in front of anyone.

Not even Nathan.

Not even herself.

Nathan noticed.

---

They returned to the central esplanade just as Liaraen’s uncles arrived.

Two older elves. Approximately sixty and seventy in elven appearance, which likely meant several centuries in actual years. The man, Lord Erenn Vaelith, had brown hair streaked with gray pulled back in a formal braid. The woman, Lady Marell Vaelith, had dark reddish hair also braided, with a small silver brooch at the top.

They both descended from a ceremonial cart that was apparently the standard transport of collateral houses.

And the moment they saw Liaraen standing on the esplanade, both stopped.

Lady Marell was the first to react.

She ran to her. Without ceremony. Without protocol—she was simply an aunt who’d lost her niece over a year ago and had kept hope throughout that time. She reached Liaraen. Wrapped her arms around her. And began to cry without the slightest aristocratic restraint.

Lord Erenn arrived a few seconds later.

Without running. With his formal posture maintained. But with his eyes clearly moist and with a voice that trembled when he said Liaraen’s name for the first time in over a year.

Liaraen accepted the hugs.

Without crying.

Without returning the hugs with the same intensity.

Just accepting them.

Nathan watched from the side.

*She’s suppressing everything.*

*Absolutely everything.*

*And her uncles don’t notice.*

*They’re seeing what they want to see.*

*That Liaraen came back.*

*And apparently that’s enough for them right now.*

After approximately a minute of the hugs, Lord Erenn turned to Nathan.

He approached.

Stopped a meter from him.

"Human Hunter."

"Nathan Voss."

"Hunter Voss. I am Lord Erenn Vaelith, brother of Liaraen’s late mother. On behalf of House Vaelith and specifically the Sael’thoryn lineage, I want to express our formal gratitude for bringing our niece back."

Nathan inclined his head with the approximation he’d learned from Liaraen during the journey.

"I appreciate the recognition, Lord Vaelith."

"The full conversation will take place at our mansion. It’s approximately an hour west of here. The ceremonial cart will take us. We’ll have dinner together. We’ll talk about everything appropriate to discuss tonight. Does that work for you?"

Nathan looked at Liaraen.

She nodded with her aristocratic posture.

"That’s perfect," Nathan replied.

Lord Erenn nodded.

Lady Marell took Liaraen’s hand. Without letting go. She began walking with her toward the ceremonial cart, speaking in Elven in a low voice with words Nathan didn’t understand.

Liaraen accepted without argument.

Nathan followed them to the cart.

The two escorts from the border crossing remained on the esplanade under Lord Erenn’s instructions. Ferren said goodbye with formality. And approximately ten minutes later, the ceremonial cart headed west with Nathan, Liaraen, Lord Erenn, and Lady Marell inside.

---

The Vaelith mansion was different from the Sael’thoryns’.

Smaller. Built among five large trees instead of one colossal one. With a more horizontal structure, distributed through the forest rather than vertical. Walkways connected the five tree houses, forming a joint residential complex.

They arrived at dusk.

The house’s servants received the arrival with characteristic formal efficiency. They prepared rooms for Nathan and Liaraen immediately. Prepared dinner. Lit the magical oil lamps distributed throughout the complex.

Lady Marell led Liaraen to the main guest room.

Nathan followed Lord Erenn to an adjacent room in a different tree but connected by walkway.

The room was considerably more luxurious than any room Nathan had ever slept in.

A large bed with a dark green canopy. A polished wooden desk with elven inscriptions. A circular window overlooking the forest. A small private bathroom with hot water apparently available simply by opening a faucet. And on the bed, a set of clean elven clothes made to measure that had apparently been prepared in the previous hours.

Nathan stood still for a moment.

He looked at the set of clothes.

*Liaraen’s uncles had enough time to prepare elven clothes to my measurements between when they heard of our arrival... But how did they know my exact size... Rich people have their methods.*

*Apparently they have significant resources and efficient logistics.*

*Good.*

*Noted.*

He changed into the elven clothes. The fabric was considerably softer than any fabric he’d worn before. The cuts fit him well. The colors were dark greens with silver details that were apparently considered appropriate for mid-rank guests.

He washed his face in the private bathroom.

Looked at himself in the small mirror.

And for a moment, he didn’t recognize the man looking back at him.

*Hunter Nathan Voss dressed in elven nobility clothes in an Aelthoren tree house.*

*This life has become specifically absurd.*

*And I’m exactly at the point where absurdity has become normal.*

He shrugged.

*Good—it’s not like it’s the first time something like this has happened to me... Would they mind if I kept it? I could wear it for an important event in Greywall.*

*Time for dinner.*