"So what you're saying is that you're good at lying?"

Elizabeth raised her fist and Tibaut backed away while shouting "I'm kidding!".

"I'm just glad that lord here was so gullible. Though I suppose it wouldn't make sense for someone to lie about something like that."

Tibaut reached over to the desk beside his bed and picked up his hand.

"So what are we gonna do with this? Won't they get suspicious if it was good enough to regrow a hand?"

Elizabeth got up and picked up his cleaned platter.

"You're free to do whatever with it. And please…" Elizabeth's face looked at him with sympathy. "Please find a way to fight without being self-destructive."

She opened the door and soon left.

Tibaut sat alone in the room with the extra hand.

"Stop saying that as if I'm doing it on purpose." His gaze soon towards the hand.

"You know… I've heard about people eating their own limbs after losing them in an accident." He briefly thought about eating it since it wasn't like he had killed another person to get this hand. "No, if it actually ends up being tasty, I might consider people on the menu if I ever get stuck in the wild again."

He picked up the hand and started observing it again.

"But I can't believe this is what it looks like after a healing potion. I mean it didn't look that bad at the time."

He tossed it into the air a few times before staring at it more intensely.

"Well, I haven't eaten much meat since I've come here…"

he pulled an exposed piece of meat and laid his (severed) hand down. With his other hand, he produced a small flame.

"A taste wouldn't hurt? Besides, I'm pretty low in fat and it's not like I'm going to season it. It's probably going to taste terrible."

Even as he was saying that he brought the piece of flesh ever closer to the flame.

As the smell of the meat cooking was entering his nostrils, he heard a knock at the door and quickly hid both his hand and the piece of meat under his sheet.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Before he could say "Come in" the door was opened and he saw two people in the frame. It was Tina and Grace who was meekly hiding behind her. He wondered what she was up to hiding like that.

Tina looked at him suspiciously before walking closer. She started examining him so he decided to discreetly leave the sheets and stand up.

("Please don't check the sheets, please don't check the sheets, please don't check the sheets.")

She grabbed and examined each of his hands and even squeezed them.

He breathed a sigh of relief and looked at her curiously.

("What's up with her?") He thought to himself.

After doing her analysis she turned back to Grace.

"He seems pretty fine to me. Are you sure something happened to his hand?"

Grace came over and grabbed one of his hands.

"She really wasn't lying! The only thing left is some caked-on blood on his finger" She exclaimed.

"(Oh, crap I should have pretended it was hurt. Wait, blood? Oh right, I must have gotten it when I tore off that piece of flesh) I'm trying to heal here, could you cut me some slack?" He said, sounding annoyed.

"Oh!" She let go of his hand. "Sorry about that."

("Don't give me that, you'd be the type to squeeze it if I complained.")

"I must say, you sure are something. I thought you had some strength, yet you let her end up like that. Isn't that embarrassing as a man?" Tina snidely remarked.

Tibaut was initially irritated by her comment but looked in a mirror and understood her viewpoint.

In terms of visuals, Grace had bruises over her face, some scratches, and a bandage on her forehead. She looked like a domestic abuse victim. Meanwhile, it looked like he was on his way to a modelling shoot. There wasn't a scratch anywhere on his skin and he felt no pain anywhere in his body. If you had seen their states a day prior Tibaut would obviously be the one worst off. Yet in a few hours that had flipped.

("I appreciate the healing of Elizabeth but at least leave my minor injuries so it isn't too suspicious. Wait a minute did I even get any other major injuries than the one on my hand?")

"Yeah, I guess I dropped the ball," Tibaut replied as he looked away while scratching his head.

"(Well, he seems fine, I suppose it wasn't anything too serious.) And here I was hoping to see you bite off more than you could chew." She did her best to sound disinterested and calmly left.

"Are you really okay?" Grace asked, wondering if the sight before her was some type of illusion.

"Of course I'm fine. Do you think I'll defeat those guys with a lame hand?"

"Oh, right."

At the mention of their enemies, Grace felt a shift in Tibaut's mood and decided to leave him to himself for the time being. Judging by his reaction he must have felt somewhat responsible for what happened the night before.

Tibaut sat at his bedside and couldn't help but grit his teeth with a sour look on his face.

"Of course, that bastard didn't run away!" He said while trying to contain his fury.

"What? I'm chopped liver? Was kidnapping the women in a village so important it couldn't wait!? And I just accepted that the bastard just ran away without any ulterior motives."

He got up and punched a nearby wall. His fist went through like it was made of drywall instead of an inch or so of wood. It left his hand bleeding at the knuckles though he couldn't care less.

"That bastard has gotten 2 over me while I'm sitting at nil. Fuck that. The next time I see him, it ends."

As Tibaut was working himself up, someone was outside wondering if he was okay.