My Grim Reaper Class: I can kill anything.

Chapter 77: Sprout Disappeared

Dinner was elaborate.

In a large dining room with a view of the five interconnected trees. With a long table covered in green tablecloths and silver utensils. With five different dishes, all prepared by cooks who had apparently worked in the Vaelith house for decades.

Nathan ate with the hunger he’d developed during the journey. After only eating bread with butter because that was the only provision they’d given them, since Liaraen only ate that. No comments on the culinary differences. Liaraen ate with her aristocratic posture at maximum.

No tears. No trembling. No emotional discussion.

As if everything were fine.

As if she were returning home after a minor diplomatic trip.

As if nothing specifically painful had happened in the last four hours.

Nathan watched her periodically from the corner of his eye.

Without commenting.

Applying Kalen’s instruction.

About halfway through dinner, Lord Erenn spoke with the ceremonial tone that apparently corresponded to the moment.

"Hunter Voss."

"Yes?"

"I want to hear the story of how you got here. From the beginning. With all the detail appropriate to share."

Nathan looked at Liaraen.

Liaraen returned his gaze with the silent communication they’d developed over the last few weeks.

*She’s going to tell most of it.*

*I’ll contribute only what’s necessary.*

*Keep my Seal to a minimum.*

Nathan nodded.

"Lady Sael’thoryn is going to tell most of it, Lord Vaelith. I’ll add complements where appropriate."

Lord Erenn inclined his head.

Liaraen began to speak.

With her carefully controlled aristocratic voice.

With the information supplied in diplomatic sequence.

She spoke of the kidnapping. Of the box. Of waking up in a Greywall alley with Nathan pulling her out. Of Selene’s house. Of the departure. Of the journey. Of the Veil settlements. Of the dungeon without mentioning the most specific details. Of Sareth without fully identifying the twins. Of the Arren River. Of the slug. Of Rendel. Of the crossing. Of the forest.

The whole story.

Filtered.

Every detail about Nathan’s abilities minimized to the maximum. Every use of Death’s Domain reduced to "an intimidation skill." Every use of Soul Reap reduced to "standard combat." The dungeon transformation reduced to "an emergency intervention Nathan describes as a vague memory." The twins reduced to "two young people with unique Seals in a Veil settlement."

Lord Erenn listened without interrupting.

Lady Marell listened with her hands clasped in her lap.

When Liaraen finished, Lord Erenn sat processing for a few seconds.

Then he turned to Nathan.

"Hunter Voss."

"Yes?"

"The Seal you carry."

Nathan straightened slightly in his chair.

"Yes."

"The description Lady Sael’thoryn gave suggests it’s a Seal not cataloged in the official Pantheon."

"Apparently so."

"Can you tell me more about it?"

Nathan looked at him.

And with his usual controlled calm, with the minimal smile that appeared when he’d decided to evade information without insulting the person asking:

"Lord Vaelith. Honestly, I know less about my Seal than most human bearers know about theirs. I obtained it approximately twenty-eight days ago under circumstances I’m still processing. The associated Class is functional but at an initial understanding stage. My contact in Greywall is helping me study the implications. When I have more precise information to share, I genuinely will."

Lord Erenn looked at him for a full moment.

Apparently evaluating whether to accept the answer.

Then he inclined his head.

"Understood, Hunter Voss. I appreciate the honesty and the acknowledgment of the limits of your current knowledge."

"I appreciate the acceptance."

Silence.

Then Lady Marell spoke, with a softer voice.

"Hunter Voss."

"Yes, Lady Vaelith."

"Regardless of the details about your Seal and your abilities, you brought our niece back. Risking your own life on multiple occasions. On behalf of the collateral house Vaelith, and by extension of all that remains of the Sael’thoryn lineage, we want to offer you a formal reward."

"Lady Vaelith."

"Five thousand gold coins would be an appropriate recognition according to aristocratic conventions for a successful transcontinental escort of a major house’s daughter."

Nathan went very still.

*Five thousand gold coins.*

*Five thousand.*

*Five.*

*Thousand.*

*Coins.*

*Of gold.*

*That’s more money than I’ll ever see together in the rest of my life unless I specifically accept it now.*

*Good.*

*With this I can buy a house. With this I can travel for years. With this I can learn any useless thing I want to learn.*

*Everything I said I wanted as a future life plan is in this offer.*

*I can accept.*

*And honestly, the part of me that carried boxes in a warehouse for three and a half years is screaming with a specific intensity that specifically wants to accept.*

*It’s screaming loud.*

*With a volume I haven’t heard from it in weeks.*

*And yet.*

Nathan closed his eyes for half a second.

Then opened them.

And with his usual calm voice, with the minimal aristocratic smile he’d developed over recent weeks:

"Lady Vaelith. I deeply appreciate the offer. Sincerely. It’s an expression of formal recognition that goes considerably beyond what I expected to receive."

"But?"

"But I’m going to respectfully decline."

Lady Marell and Lord Erenn looked at each other.

"Hunter Voss," Lord Erenn said. "It is appropriate for you to accept. Escorting a major house’s daughter during a transcontinental rescue operation is a service that aristocratic conventions require be compensated."

"I understand."

"Refusing compensation can be interpreted as a diplomatic insult by outside observers."

"I understand that too."

"Then?"

"Lord Vaelith. I’m going to explain my reason clearly so it isn’t interpreted as an insult. I didn’t accompany Liaraen from Greywall to here because I expected compensation. I accompanied her because I agreed to do so, and because as the journey progressed, the quality of the person she is made the escort become something beyond a paid mission. Accepting money for what we did together would, honestly, reduce what happened to a transaction. And honestly, I don’t want to reduce it to that."

Silence in the dining room.

Liaraen looked at him.

With her aristocratic posture maintained.

With her pale green eyes specifically moist for the first time during the entire dinner.

Not tears.

Just moisture.

Which she quickly controlled.

Lord Erenn nodded slowly.

"Hunter Voss, I regret to inform you that my niece is still young, regardless of being only a year away from adulthood."

Nathan looked with surprise at that statement and quickly shook his head.

"No, no, no—I didn’t mean that at all. I simply meant that it was enjoyable to spend time with her. Besides, as you said, she’s a young woman who’s been through a lot. I couldn’t just leave her to her fate on her way home."

"Very well, you don’t need to clarify so much. However." Lord Erenn leaned slightly over the table. "You’re going to remain in our house until you decide to leave. As a full guest. With all the house’s resources at your disposal. Without time limit. And when you leave, you’ll do so with provisions for the return journey and with an escort to the border if you wish. That’s non-negotiable."

Nathan looked at him.

*Acceptable.*

*Apparently I have to accept something.*

"Acceptable," Nathan replied.

"Good."

Silence again.

Then Nathan spoke, with a specifically softer voice.

"Lord Vaelith. Lady Vaelith. One thing."

"Go ahead."

"Apparently I’m going to be here only a few days. Long enough to make sure Liaraen is adapting well. Then I’m going back to Greywall. I have pending commitments with Selene. And apparently my career as a Hunter still has components to develop."

"Understood."

"I’m not fleeing the hospitality. I’m just being specific about my plans."

"I understand, Hunter Voss. House Vaelith respects your timeline."

"I appreciate it."

Silence.

Dinner continued.

And Nathan, with the calm of someone who’d successfully navigated a major diplomatic conversation without compromising critical information or accepting an amount of money that would have sincerely changed his life completely, finished his plate with his usual efficiency.

---

After dinner, Nathan went up to his room.

He undressed. Put on simple sleepwear that had apparently also been prepared for him. Got into the canopy bed. The bed was considerably more comfortable than any bed he’d used in his life.

He fell asleep in about twenty minutes.

Slept deeply for approximately three hours.

And around two in the morning, he woke.

Without apparent reason.

Just woke.

And once awake, he couldn’t fall back asleep.

He lay staring at the canopy for nearly thirty minutes. Counting the threads in the fabric. Listening to the forest’s nighttime sounds outside. Feeling the cool air coming through the slightly open circular window.

And thinking about Liaraen.

*She acted throughout dinner as if nothing specific had happened.*

*As if her parents hadn’t died.*

*As if her sister hadn’t disappeared.*

*As if her home weren’t in ruins.*

*As if she were exactly the same second daughter of a major house who’d left this tree-house room fourteen months ago for a botanical expedition.*

*As if the entire journey with me had been just another diplomatic function.*

*And apparently that means at some point she’s going to collapse.*

*And that collapse has probably already started.*

*And it’s probably happening specifically now.*

*Somewhere.*

*Alone.*

*Because no one else in the mansion knows she won’t allow anyone to see her collapse.*

Nathan got out of bed.

Put on a light shirt and simple pants over his sleepwear. Left the room barefoot.

The hallway was dimly lit. The magical oil lamps had been dimmed to minimum for the night. The forest sounds filtered through the corridor’s circular windows.

Nathan walked toward Liaraen’s room.

Lady Marell had shown him the location upon arrival. It was in the main Vaelith mansion tree, on the second floor, approximately at the end of the main hallway.

Nathan reached the door.

He stopped.

He listened.

Silence.

No movement inside. No breathing sounds. No sound of anything.

Nathan knocked softly.

No response.

He knocked again, a little louder.

No response.

"Sprout," Nathan said quietly. "It’s me. I just wanted to confirm you’re okay."

No response.

Nathan checked with Soul Sense.

No presence inside the room.

*She’s not there.*

Nathan stood still for a second processing.

Then he pushed the door.

It was slightly ajar.

And though no one was inside, the door opened with the specific ease of a room that had been left that way deliberately.

Nathan entered.

He checked quickly.

The bed was unmade but cold. The travel provisions Liaraen had brought were intact on the floor beside a chair. Her gray travel cloak hung on a hook by the door.

But her personal bag.

The personal bag.

The one she’d carried throughout the journey with her most personal things.

It wasn’t there.

Nathan stood in the center of the room for approximately three seconds.

Then he turned.

Left the room.