The Last Godfall: Transmigrated as the Young Master-Chapter 147: Alone with her

Vencian’s sight crept back in uneven patches. Color returned slowly, thin and washed, as if the forest had been left out in the rain. Greens looked tired. Browns blended together. He could tell where trees stood only because their shapes blocked the moon.

Each step earlier had felt guessed rather than chosen. Quenya had stayed close, tugging him when his foot drifted wrong. He suspected Seris missed it because she had been too still, folded inward, breathing shallow as sleep dragged her down. That small mercy stayed with him.

The device had taken more than strength. It had taken certainty. His head still rang in a dull way, like something knocked loose and rolling around.

Between his thoughts, Seris murmured.

It came soft and broken, words pressed together, then trailing off. Her voice held a weight that did not belong to the forest. He kept his eyes away from her shape on the ground. The sound unsettled him more than a shout would have. It felt private. It felt like standing in a room he was never meant to enter.

This was a mistake, he thought, then let the thought pass. Judging it led nowhere. He focused on the moon instead, round and whole, though dimmer than memory said it should be.

Seris stirred soon after.

Leaves shifted. Fabric whispered. She sat up and looked around, slow and careful, as if checking whether the world would hold.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

Vencian sat with his back to a tree, facing away from her. His shoulders felt heavy. He turned his head just enough to acknowledge the question.

"Hard to tell," he said. "Time means little in a forest like this. It was short... I think"

She accepted the answer in silence.

No thanks came. No comment followed. He kept his eyes on the moon. Its light felt thin, stretched too far to be generous. He could sense her gaze on his face, sharp and searching. It pressed at the side of his vision.

"If there’s something you want," he said, voice level, "say it. Staring helps neither of us."

The pause after felt deliberate on her part. When she spoke, her voice was clear. Awake.

"How did you fool the servant," Seris asked, "the one who had held Aline as hostage, to free her back at the mansion?"

Vencian let the question sit for a moment. The forest held its breath around them, leaves barely stirring.

"I had no grand plan," he said at last. "The servant was watching something else. I saw an opening and took it."

Seris turned her head toward him. He felt it rather than saw it. Her silence carried weight, pressed and sharp.

"That sounds convenient," she said. "You expect me to believe it happened on instinct alone. Then explain something else. How did you hold your ground against an arkspren. People freeze when pressed."

He shifted against the tree, bark rough through his clothes. The moonlight thinned again, as if drawn back.

"You speak as if you watched the whole thing," he replied. "You decide what I am capable of before I open my mouth. Quite arrogant I must say, lady Valemont."

Her breath left her in a short sound, more air than voice. She looked away, jaw tight, then gave a small huff that carried more irritation than anger.

The moment stretched, awkward and exposed.

Vencian found himself thinking of the Valemont study, the chair placed just far enough to remind him of his role. The careful words. The bowed head. The voice he used there, trained to please and endure. Here, there was no script. No need to soften himself into something smaller.

This feels easier, he thought. Strange, but easier.

He did not have to weigh every word. He did not have to earn permission to speak. The thought settled in him with quiet relief.

Seris said nothing more. Neither did he.

The forest resumed its low sounds, and the space between them held, unfilled.

Seris began to push herself up, one hand braced on the ground, the other pressed to her knee. The movement looked careful rather than weak.

Vencian turned toward her this time. "You sure you can move," he asked. "We can wait longer."

She paused halfway up. Her eyes caught on a single word.

"We," she said. "I thought this ended with us parting ways."

He considered it for a breath. "I changed my mind," he said. "That a problem."

She held his stare. The forest stayed quiet around them. At last, she looked away.

"I can walk," Seris said. "We should begin."

He rose at once and set off, leaving her to fall into step beside him. The darkness closed in again, but it felt less hostile now. Shapes held their edges. Color crept back into the world in thin layers. Green returned first, then the dull red of bark torn by old cuts. His sight still felt strained, yet it obeyed him again.

They walked for a long time. The forest thinned and thickened in uneven patches. Roots rose where the ground sloped. Stones shifted underfoot. They stopped often, sometimes for her, sometimes for him. Neither commented on it.

By the time the light changed, the moon had sunk behind the trees. A pale glow pushed through the branches instead. The air grew cooler, carrying the promise of morning.

They reached a narrow stream just as the sun began to rise. Water slid over stones in a steady line, clear enough to show its bed. Vencian crouched first and rinsed his hands. The cold bit, sharp and grounding.

Seris knelt beside him and dipped her fingers in. She splashed water on her face, then paused, shoulders stiffening. Her hand lingered at her wrist.

"You hurt," Vencian said.

"I am fine," she replied, quick and clipped.

He watched her for a moment. "You should let me look." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

She drew her hand back. "I said I am fine."

He let it go, though the way she held herself stayed in his mind. He rinsed his face instead and drank from cupped hands. The water tasted clean.

They spoke little as they rested. When they did, the words stayed plain.

"We are far from the road," Seris said, scanning the trees.

"Far enough," he answered. "Close enough to find people soon."

She glanced at him then, sharp and brief. "You sound certain."

"Habit," he said.

They were about to move again when Seris froze. She lifted a hand, palm out, and tilted her head.

Vencian followed her lead and listened.

At first there was only the stream. Then, faint and distant, came the sound of voices carried through the trees. Human voices.

They moved toward the sound with care, keeping low as the trees thinned. Bushes gave way to narrow clearings. The forest floor rose slightly, and through the branches they caught sight of wood shaped by hands.

The settlement sat above the ground. Houses were built into the trees, held by thick beams and rope. Platforms linked them, worn smooth by use. Smoke drifted upward in thin trails. People moved along the walkways with easy balance.

Vencian stayed still and watched. Their clothes stood out at once. The fabric was layered and tied rather than cut, dyed in muted greens and browns. Some wore short cloaks stitched with simple patterns. It was practical clothing, meant for movement and weather rather than display.

Voices carried between the trees. The rhythm of the speech was quick and fluid, words flowing into each other. Vencian listened for meaning and found none. He caught tones and pauses, yet the sounds refused to settle into sense.

"I do not know this tongue," he said quietly.

Seris answered at once. "It is Laiara."

He looked at her. She kept her eyes on the village.

"It is spoken in the northeast," she continued. "Mostly among forest tribes. Traders learn pieces of it. Nobles rarely bother."

The name settled in his mind. Northeast. His thoughts moved on their own. Angante lay there, cold hills and long borders. Her duchy. The detail slid into place as if it had always waited there.

"So we are still inside Airantis," he said.

"Yes," Seris replied. "Far from court, yet still home ground."

The tension that had followed them since the forest shifted eased in small ways. The device had thrown them far, yet not beyond the kingdom. That mattered. Being lost carried one weight. Being lost in foreign land carried another.

They watched the villagers for a while longer. No alarm had been raised. Children ran along a platform, laughter sharp and brief. An older woman called after them, voice firm. The scene felt settled and lived in.

Seris turned toward him. "Come," she said. "I will speak to them."

"You plan to walk in," Vencian asked.

"Yes," she answered. "We need a way out of the forest. They can point us toward a road."

He studied the settlement again, measuring distance and height. "They may ask who we are."

She met his gaze. "I will handle that."

There was no challenge in her voice. It sounded like fact.

She stepped forward, parting the brush, then paused when he did not move at once. She glanced back.

"You are coming," she said.

He nodded and followed.

They left the cover of the trees together, heading toward the houses built high among the branches.