The lich eventually recovered from its sudden surprise. It did not expect to find a mage in this small town. Realizing it made a grave mistake, the lich attempted to flee, but Leylin blocked his way, firing another ball of flames. A sinister smile arose on his face. It created a stark contrast to his normally genial appearance.

"Now it's my turn. I'll give you an illusion of my own!"

Placing his hand on the lich's head, Leylin commanded mana to invade its mind. To the lich, he morphed into the worst devil it could imagine. Leylin's skin darkened and large, leathery wings grew out of his back. His teeth lengthened and sharpened into points.

"D-demon!" the lich stuttered.

"You like this? I certainly can do the impression of a demon well, can't I? It would be a shame if I couldn't, to be honest. I made them after all..."

The illusion of Leylin then began to rip apart the lich's body. The most interesting thing was that the lich could feel the pain, something it had never felt since it raised from the dead. It was supposed to be impossible to feel anything at all. Because of the the newness of the feeling, the lich underwent excruciating torture.

"This is what you get for messing with me!"

The lich's shrieks of pain rose until it began to weaken. Finally, the lich fell back, dead. Outside the illusion, nothing appeared to be wrong with the lich's body. His life ended in the same manner as his many victims.  Slumping onto the ground, Leylin felt exhausted. He realized that he was drenched in sweat from the encounter. Sitting there, he attempted to recollect his mind and calm down. After some time, Emily returned.

"Leylin?!"

Seeing Leylin in an odd state, she grew worried. She noticed an odd smell when she entered the storage room, but she didn't think much of it. Placing her hand on his forhead, she tested his temperature. She thought that he might have become ill. He seemed to be burning up and was covered in sweat. Emily rushed over to a bucket of water and ripped a piece of cloth off of her dress. After dipping it into the water, she wrung it out and carefully placed it on Leylin's forhead.

Leylin watched her delicate motions. Perhaps her care for him was how she treated everyone, but it stirred his heart. Her worry actually had a higher impact on him because it was how she would treat anyone. He realized that this girl was truly a kind-hearted person through and through. It reminded him of something his father told him before he became duke.

Leylin said, "You know, one of the few memories I have of my normal father is from when I was much younger. He told me that it actually wasn't a coincidence that he met my mother. He had observed her before and found her absolutely stunning, both in personality and in looks. My father waited for the right opportunity to approach her. He didn't want to leave the impression of her superior nor someone who was just being friendly. He said to me, 'If you find a girl that you like, don't approach her with the intention of being friends then steadily become something more. You have to jump in with the intention that she will be yours and you will be hers. Only in that way will you succeed in finding the love of your life.' I hadn't thought much about what he said until now."

"What do you mean?" asked Emily.

Laughing in a self-deprecating manner, Leylin replied, "It's fine for now. I realize it's a bit soon, and we don't know each other very well, but I hope you are willing to give me a chance."

"I -I don't know...." she said.

Exhausted, Leylin fell unconscious. Ensuring that nothing was wrong with him, Emily finally had the time to observe her surroundings. Immediately noticing the lich, she jumped a bit. After her brief fright, she quickly recovered, displaying her mental fortitude. She remembered the bounty she saw earlier. 'It is suspected that The Tailor is a lich...' and a lich certainly lay dead in front of her. She also recalled, 'the expected danger level of this bounty is severe.'

Staring at Leylin, she asked, "What exactly happened here?"

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POV of The Captain of the 23rd Squadron

The Captain stared out at the horizon. A small dot in the distance indicated that his squadron was nearing Dry Springs. He and his men were tired from the weeks of nearly non-stop horse riding that was required to get there. His men had been complaining about being assigned to this mission, but he saw it as a blessing to leave the fronlines. That way he wouldn't lose any of his fellow brothers in battle and they could relax somewhat.

"How much longer until we get there? I'd rather be at the frontlines than ride this godforsaken horse for another second," said a man in disheveled leather armor.

The Captain looked at him disapprovingly. He was 'new blood' as they called it. He lacked the wisdom to realize that he would most likely die on the battlefield and that this trip was actually a respite. It gave them several benefits as well. They could conscript more men to strengthen their squadron and gain merits for the kingdom by vanquishing the murderer. The Captain could only hope that the man would grow through the tempering of the battlefield.

"I mean, what's the point of even helping these bumpkins? They can barely pay their taxes and are so malnourished that they wouldn't be worth giving armor for battle. All they are good for is fodder," the man continued.

"Shut it! One more word and you will be the one cleaning the horses' stables when we arrive," the Captain commanded.

This man was more dumb than he thought. Many of the people here were already decently trained in fighting. There were no other sources of food except monsters and wild animals in the Dead Forest. Because of this, they had to fight to survive at all. The fact that the town still existed for so long spoke magnitudes about their abilities. He had high hopes for this visit.

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