For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, the Cat-Kin woman instinctively swallowed the sweet nectar.
WHOOSH.
A wave of golden energy rippled through the woman's body. It was visible to the naked eye—a warm light traveling from her throat, down to her chest, and spreading to her fingertips.
Where the light touched, the grey, sickly color of her skin vanished. The "Wither-Blood" parasites—which looked like faint black veins under her fur—were incinerated instantly by the holy energy of the Sun-Kissed Nectarine.
Cough!
The woman gasped, her eyes snapping open. Her pupils, which had been dilated and hazy, sharpened into bright, vertical slits.
"Air..." she gasped, taking a deep, strong breath.
"Mom!" The Fox-girl screamed, tackling her mother in a hug. "You're awake! You're awake!"
The woman sat up, looking at her hands. Her orange fur was regaining its luster. The pain in her chest was gone. In fact, she felt stronger than she had in years. The fruit's Rank-B energy was coursing through her veins, overcharging her weakened system.
She looked at her daughter, confused.
"How... how am I healed?" she whispered, touching her face. "I was in so much pain... I thought I was dying"
"He saved you!" The little girl pointed behind her.
The woman froze. She slowly turned her head.
She saw him.
The tall, armored figure wrapped in shifting darkness. The faceless metal mask staring down at them. The twin mana-revolvers at his hips.
By all rights, she should have screamed. She should have grabbed her child and run. A human—or whatever this thing was—standing in their territory usually meant death.
But... she thought, her heart racing. My instincts tell me he isn't dangerous. He saved me.
This wasn't an assassin.
Lysander stood up slowly, towering over them once again. The "Grim Reaper" aura returned as he straightened his back, his cloak shifting like smoke.
"She needs rest," Lysander said, his robotic voice cutting through the silence. "But the sickness in her blood is gone. She will live."
The Cat-Kin woman pulled her daughter close, her ears flattening against her head—not in aggression, but in submission and awe.
"Who..." the woman rasped, her voice trembling as she looked up at the faceless entity. "Who are you? Why would you save... trash like us?"
The Cat-Kin woman sat in the mud, clutching her daughter to her chest. Her heart was pounding against her ribs—not from the sickness, which was gone, but from the sheer presence of the being standing before her.
He was a tower of black silence. The Iron-Wraith Mask stared down at her, devoid of pity, anger, or warmth. And yet, this terrifying entity had just spent a fortune to save her life.
"Why?" she rasped, her voice trembling as she stroked her daughter's fur. "We are outcasts. We are the 'Rotten Ones'. Why would you waste a divine treasure on... trash like us?"
Lysander looked at the woman, then at the little Fox-girl who was still clinging to her mother's tunic. He remembered his own loneliness in the cave. He remembered the feeling of being small and helpless against the world.
"I have my reasons," Lysander replied, his voice distorted by the metallic filter of the mask. It sounded cold, but the words were heavy.
"I simply could not watch a mother die in the mud while her child begged for help. No child should have to bury their parent in a place like this"
He turned his head slightly, the purple mana-light in his goggles dimming.
"Consider it a whim of the strong"
The woman swallowed hard. In the Stratified Domain, kindness was a transaction. Nobody gave something for nothing.
"You... you saved me," she said, trying to stand. Her legs were shaky, but they held her weight. "I have nothing to give you. No gold. No weapons. But I owe you a life debt"
She looked up at him, her feline eyes wide with a mixture of fear and gratitude.
"What do you want from me, Shadow Walker?"
Lysander scanned the darkening forest. The violet sky was turning a deep, bruised indigo. Night in the Stratified Domain was far more dangerous than day.
"Information," Lysander said efficiently. "I am new to this territory. I need to know the layout, the hierarchy, and the location of the Boss Monsters"
He took a step back.
"But not now. The sun is setting. I have questions, and you have answers. We will speak tomorrow"
He turned to walk back toward the dense tree line, intending to find a branch to sleep on.
"Wait!"
The Cat-Kin woman scrambled forward, grabbing the edge of his shifting shadow cloak before pulling her hand back as if burned.
"You... you cannot go out there," she stammered.
Lysander paused. "Why? I do not fear the monsters"
"It's not the monsters," she whispered, looking around nervously at the other tattered tents. The shadows of the village were lengthening. "If you walk through the settlement looking like... that... in the dark..."
She pointed at his terrifying mask and the smoke-like hoodie.
"The other women. The children. They are already terrified. If they see a faceless shadow stalking through the camp at night, they will think the Reapers have come to cull us. They will scream. They will flee into the forest and die"
She took a deep breath, clutching her own arm to stop the shaking. She was terrified of him, but she couldn't let him cause a panic.
"Please," she said, her voice barely a squeak. "My home... it is a hovel. It is dirt and wood. But... it is hidden"
She looked down, unable to meet the glowing purple eyes of his mask.
"Stay with us tonight. You will be safe from the patrols, and my people will not die of fright"
Lysander looked at the woman. She was trembling like a leaf, yet she was inviting a heavily armed, unknown killer into her home to protect her neighbors.
"You are inviting a wolf into your den," Lysander warned, his voice low.
"You saved me," the woman replied, gaining a sliver of courage. "A wolf would have eaten us"
Lysander stood silent for a moment. Sleeping in a tree was uncomfortable. And he needed to be close to his source of information.
"Very well," he said. "Lead the way"
She led him to the edge of the clearing, to a shelter built inside the hollowed-out roots of a massive silver tree.
She pushed aside a heavy leather flap. "Get inside. Quickly"
Lysander ducked his head and entered.
The inside was small, smelling of dried herbs and earth. There was no furniture, only a pile of furs in the corner and a small fire pit in the center. It was poverty in its rawest form.
The little Fox-girl ran inside and immediately hid behind the pile of furs, peeking out at Lysander with wide eyes.
The Cat-Kin woman entered behind him and tied the leather flap shut, plunging them into dimness. She lit a small mana-stone, casting a weak blue light over the room.
"It isn't much," she apologized, gesturing to the dirt floor. "I am Elara. And this is Miko."
Lysander stood in the corner, his head brushing the wooden ceiling. He felt massive and out of place in this fragile home. He kept his mask on.
"I am..." He paused. He couldn't use his real name.
"Call me Zero"
Elara nodded, grabbing a ragged blanket.
"Rest, Lord Zero. You are safe here"
Lysander sat cross-legged before the small fire pit, his armored bulk taking up a significant portion of the cramped hut. The flames danced in the reflection of his black glass visor. Elara sat opposite him, her hands resting on her knees, while little Miko peeked out from behind the furs, eventually crawling over to sit timidly beside the woman who raised her.
The silence was heavy, broken only by the popping of the firewood.
"I have questions, Elara," Lysander said, his distorted voice low and rumbling. "I walked through your village. I saw no men. I saw no guards. I only saw the sick—women and children, left to rot in the mud"
He gestured to Miko, who was clutching Elara's arm.
"And I see a Fox-Kin child clinging to a Cat-Kin mother. Why are you all here? Why did you call yourselves 'outcasts'?"
Elara stared into the fire, a bitter smile touching her lips. She reached down and stroked Miko's graying fur.
"We are here, Lord Zero because we are the ones the Clans threw away"
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a deep, ancient sadness.
"We are not Pure Bloods"