Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 378: Silver mask

Lira returned quietly, pushing aside the tent flap with her shoulder as though she did not want to draw too much attention to herself. In her hands were two masks wrapped carefully in linen, and she paused beside Lucas before unfolding them.

"I did not know which would suit you," she said, her voice low and steady despite the worry in her eyes. "So I brought both."

She held them out for him to see. One was silver in color, smooth and cool looking, with faint lines etched along its edges that caught the lantern light softly. The other was black, darker and heavier in presence, its surface absorbing light rather than reflecting it.

Lucas studied them for a long moment, his thoughts drifting without his permission. A mask. He had seen the empress hide her face behind silk and power, never imagining the day he would need something similar. Slowly, he reached out and took the silver one.

"This one," he said at last, his voice calm but tired. "It feels right."

Lira nodded gently. "I thought you might choose that," she replied. "It does not feel like something meant to hide you."

Lucas exhaled through his nose and allowed himself a faint, bitter smile. "I never planned to wear a mask," he said quietly. "But plans rarely survive reality."

Before the conversation could continue, footsteps sounded outside the tent, heavier and hurried. The flap opened, and Tom entered with visible relief and immediate concern etched across his face. Floating just behind him was the ice belle, her small body glowing faintly as she drifted inside carrying a bowl of meal.

Tom stopped short the moment he saw Lucas properly. His shoulders stiffened, and his expression tightened as he stepped closer. "My lord," he said softly, kneeling beside him without hesitation. "She told me you were injured, but seeing it..." His voice faltered, and he swallowed hard.

Lucas looked at him and shook his head slightly. "I am still here," he said. "That is what matters."

Tom nodded, though his eyes betrayed him. "Still," he murmured, "it hurts to see you like this." He carefully adjusted the coverings, checked the bandages, and began tending to him with practiced hands, his movements gentle but precise. "You should not have had to face something like that alone."

"I was not alone," Lucas replied, glancing briefly toward the ice belle.

She had already drifted to one corner of the tent, with the steaming bowl of venison soup. She settled down cross legged, grabbed the bowl with both hands, and began eating with clear relief.

"This is finally hot," she declared between mouthfuls. "Cold food is an insult after a fight like that."

Lucas could not help the small breath of amusement that escaped him. "I am glad one of us is recovering properly."

She paused, looked at him over the rim of the bowl, and said more quietly, "You were stupid," then returned to eating as if the matter was settled.

Tom glanced at her, then back at Lucas. "She was worried," he said, almost defensively.

"I know," Lucas replied. He lifted the silver mask slightly, turning it in his hand as the light reflected off its surface. His face stung, and the scars beneath the bandages throbbed faintly, but his mind felt clearer than it had hours ago.

As Lira watched him, she spoke again, her tone gentle but firm. "Whatever you wear," she said, "it does not change who you are to us."

Lucas met her gaze, then slowly nodded. Inside, he felt the weight of everything that had happened settle into something steadier. Pain, loss, and fear were still there, but so was resolve.

He closed his fingers around the silver mask and thought, not for the first time since waking, that survival itself sometimes demanded a price. He then asked Tom to help him up.

Tom slipped an arm beneath Lucas’s shoulder and tightened his grip carefully, mindful of the burns and the lingering weakness in his body. Lucas drew a slow breath, tested his legs, and nodded once to show he was ready.

"Easy, my lord," Tom said quietly as he helped him rise. "You have been through enough already."

"I have rested long enough," Lucas replied, his voice steady even though his body protested. In his mind, he reminded himself that a leader could not afford to remain hidden when decisions were being made. He straightened, adjusted the silver mask over his face, and felt the cool metal settle against scarred skin. The sting was sharp but grounding.

Henrietta stepped closer immediately, her presence firm and reassuring. "Lean on us if you need to," she said softly. "There is no shame in it."

Lucas glanced at her, gratitude flickering behind his eyes. "I know," he answered. "But I need to walk myself."

They left the tent together, the night air brushing against Lucas’s skin as the camp stretched out before them. Fires burned low, soldiers spoke in hushed tones, and the distant sounds of armor and movement reminded him that war was no longer an idea but a living thing breathing just beyond the edge of the camp.

When they reached the king’s tent, the guards stepped aside without question. Inside, the king stood over a spread map, his hands resting on the table as he looked up the moment Lucas entered.

"You should still be resting," the king said, concern clear in his voice.

Lucas inclined his head respectfully. "I am well enough to listen and speak," he replied. "And I would rather hear what comes next than guess from a distance."

The king studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Very well," he said. "Sit if you must."

Lucas remained standing. "Please continue."

The king exhaled slowly and gestured at the map. "We rest for one more night," he said. "The men are exhausted, and what we faced at the abyss was no small thing. At first light, we march. No delays, no hesitation."

Henrietta crossed her arms lightly. "The scouts report no immediate movement ahead," she added. "But that could change by morning."

"That is why we move early," the king replied. "Speed will be our advantage."

Lucas listened carefully, committing every word to memory. Inside, he felt the weight of responsibility settle again, familiar and heavy, but no longer crushing.

After a few more exchanges, the king straightened and concluded, "That is all for now. Prepare yourselves."

Lucas bowed. "We will be ready."

Outside the tent, Lucas turned slightly toward Tom. "Find Volde for me," he said quietly. "Tell him I need a word before dawn."

Tom nodded at once. "Alright, my lord."

As Tom hurried off, Lucas remained standing for a moment, listening to the sounds of the camp. The night was not peaceful, but it was calm enough to prepare for what awaited them when the sun rose.