She doubted "that" person would be bold enough to show up here alone.
And even if he did, Ilya had already made up her mind, she would cling to Liam's side like her life depended on it.
"T-Then, about Lucien… He still has the card in his hand, if he's still alive."
The word "Senior" was gone from her mouth. Liam caught it instantly.
His smile came quietly, gentle, almost amused.
He gave her a soft look that lingered just a little longer than necessary, and Ilya, noticing it too, flushed faintly.
Neither of them brought it up. They simply let it sit there, unspoken.
Instead, Liam answered her question with calm patience. "Since the card has chosen him, then leave him be…"
"The card has chosen him?" Ilya blinked, her eyes lifting toward him.
She didn't receive an explanation.
Liam remained quiet, looking elsewhere. Still, she got the hint. With a slight nod, she accepted it and said no more.
She stayed at Liam's house for several more hours, recovering in silence.
The external wounds had been mostly healed earlier, under Liam's skill, but she still carried the lingering weight of internal injuries, those required her own effort to mend.
Every so often, Liam would place his hand lightly on her shoulder, his palm warm and steady.
From it, a steady current of spiritual energy flowed into her like a calm river slipping beneath ice.
Gentle, deep, and endlessly soothing.
She felt it.
A blush bloomed across her cheeks, but she said nothing. Quietly, she absorbed the healing energy, drawing it in as if she couldn't get enough.
Liam didn't comment. Neither did she.
But as he continued helping her, without asking for anything in return, something slowly shifted. She found herself feeling closer to him, bit by bit.
'Why do I feel like I'm stealing Lucien's woman?' Liam thought, arms tucked behind his back as he stood beside the pond in the courtyard.
His gaze lingered on the water's still surface, where his reflection stared back with a strange expression.
Beside him, Ilya sat cross-legged, eyes closed in focus, the faint rhythm of her breathing steady and composed.
'She was supposed to be the heroine, right?' A small frown crept into his brows. Maybe he was just overthinking it.
And really, even if she wasn't the so-called heroine, Liam was already drawn to her from the start.
Her presence wasn't just pleasant, it was familiar, a slow-burning warmth that didn't demand but offered.
He had been watching quietly, giving her time, observing her nature, weighing her character.
He valued personality far more than appearances.
As for this recent shift in mindset, this urge to think about companionship, it wasn't sudden.
It started when Brother Fu left the city. That event made something settle inside him. A thought he hadn't given much weight before began to take shape:
At his age, maybe it was time to start thinking about having a home. A family. Something more grounded.
And with his current strength, there wasn't much stopping him from pursuing it.
In the future, he will progressively become more and more powerful.
That's when Ilya entered the list. The first name on it.
And just as he was evaluating her quietly, Ilya had been doing the same. Watching him, weighing his worth, seeing if he was someone she could rely on.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Liam's mouth. Hands still behind his back, he glanced sideways at her seated figure.
He didn't disturb her. She still needed time to heal the internal damage.
He had already given her more than enough spiritual energy, far more than what she probably needed. She just had to take it slow now, refine it inside her body and mend what was left.
He stayed beside the pond without moving, quiet and unmoving. His figure, still as stone, blended into the tranquil scenery.
Only the surface of the water moved, gently rippling under the soft wind, reflecting his face in subtle distortion.
'Love... Huh...'
'It feels... nice'
Then, after what felt like a long silence, Ilya stirred.
She had finished.
Rising to her feet, she approached him carefully. Her steps were small and light, her hands folded behind her back as if to stop herself from fidgeting.
She paused at his side, hesitating for a second. Then, softly, she spoke.
"L-Liam…"
For the first time, she called his name directly.
Liam turned his head slightly, their eyes meeting.
"A-about Lucien… should we… do something about him?"
We, huh?
He let out a quiet chuckle, stepping closer.
With a simple lift of his hand, his fingers lightly brushed the edge of her ears, just a brief touch before pulling back again.
A faint red bloomed across her cheeks, her lips parting slightly but no words came at first.
"There's no need," Liam said calmly. "Let him be, from now on. That card was meant for him. He is qualified to bear the weight of it."
"I-I see…"
Her gaze dropped. She brought her hands together in front of her, fingertips pressing and curling into each other beneath the hem of her dress.
"B-but… how about First Uncle and Second Uncle…?" Her voice faltered. "T-they sacrificed their lives… for nothing?"
"No." Liam shook his head, firm but not harsh. "They didn't die for nothing."
His tone held no sharpness, only a steady weight.
"Their deaths brought something else to my attention. Something important."
"S-something important?" she repeated, brows slightly drawn as her voice lowered.
Liam turned away, facing the pond.
With a wave of his hand, the surface shimmered. Ripples folded across the water, and then the reflection began to shift.
From the once-still surface, a new image emerged, several black-robed figures came into view, faces hidden behind grotesque masks that looked more like carved bone than crafted metal.
The moment the picture fully formed, Ilya drew in a breath.
"T-those are the ones… the ones who were chasing us today..."
"I know." Liam's eyes narrowed. He didn't look away. "And I didn't expect them to find us here so quickly."
There was something in the way he said it.
Not just the words, but the way his shoulders tensed, the slight tilt of his jaw. Ilya caught the shift and felt the warning hidden in it.
"W-who are they? Warp believers?"
"No…" Liam slowly shook his head. "They're something worse."
Another wave of his hand, and the pond's image shifted again.
Now, it revealed a wild, uneven landscape, an unsteady terrain that rose and fell like breathless land. In the center sat something massive.
A creature that vaguely resembled a man in outline… but its body was wrong. Horribly wrong.
It was made entirely of faces. Twisting, melting, crying, some silent and some screaming. Dozens of them, all embedded into its flesh.
Blood dripped from their mouths like slow fountains as the thing moved forward, its heavy steps pressing into the land like it was soft paper.
Then, a flicker in the scene. A group of humans appeared in the distance, fleeing with urgency.
And in just a single, bone-shaking leap, the giant crossed the land and landed right before them.
But these weren't mortals. Not even close.
Liam raised a hand to emphasize it. "Watch," he said.
The scene adjusted.
Each of the humans on the ground lifted off into the sky effortlessly. No wings, no tricks, just pure flight.
Ilya's eyes widened, a breath catching in her throat. Only Foundation Building realm cultivators and above could fly freely.
These weren't small-time monks.
They launched their attacks in a scattered frenzy, blades of light, bursts of fire, talismans burning with spiritual might.
But it didn't matter.
The giant simply raised its grotesque, many-faced hand and swung.
With one sweep, the monks were thrown through the air like broken kites, helpless, disoriented, collapsing to the ground like discarded leaves.
No resistance.
Then, without hesitation, the giant began devouring them.
One by one.
Their bodies torn as easily as cabbage leaves at a street stall.
Ilya's stomach twisted. She couldn't look away.
"T-this…?"
"The Rift Lurker," Liam murmured, voice low. Almost like he didn't want to name it aloud.
She'd never heard the term before. It struck her as something ancient, something that she wasn't allowed to know at her stage.
She moved closer, crouching down beside the stone edge of the pond.
Her eyes studied the images carefully, soaking in every detail as if trying to remember them all.
"Rift Lurkers…?" she asked softly. "Then… what's the connection between them and those robed figures?"
Liam exhaled. "Same connection as the Warp Believers."
His voice didn't rise, but his meaning was clear, and it settled in her chest like a cold stone.