Reborn, Its Time To Save My Family And.. My Enemy!
Chapter 271: You Would Not Die!

Chapter 271: You Would Not Die!

Olivia turned to Liliana as they stood near the broken man curled up on the cushion. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Liliana, do you think you can help him?"

Liliana didn’t answer right away. Her eyes lingered on the ruined figure before them. He had scarred skin, hollow gaze, and the weight of years buried under guilt and pain. Her jaw tightened, and her hands clenched into fists.

"I can," she said after a long pause. "But..." She looked away, voice low. "You know what healing something this deep takes. He is not just burned outside, Olivia. His soul is damaged that is why he could not speak. To mend it, I will have to dig into all of it."

Olivia stepped forward and reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "I know," she said quietly, "And I wouldn’t ask if there were anyone else. You are the best healer in the whole coven. If anyone can treat him, it’s you. But if you do not want to do it, no one will force you."

Liliana looked at their joined hands, then at Olivia’s eyes. She could see the pain behind them. Not for the man, but for the truth that was so close. And for her sister. If the truth could come out. Would really humans change their views about witches and stop harassing them?

"If you don’t want to do it," Olivia said earnestly, "I won’t force you, I promise." she repeated when she noticed the reluctance on her face.

Liliana breathed out shakily. She turned her head again to the man, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders as he fought invisible wars within himself. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, then opened them again.

"I will do it," she whispered. "But not for him.Her gaze was sharp now but her voice was resolute.

"I will do it for my sister, And for you, Olivia."

Olivia’s eyes glistened. She nodded and her grip on Liliana’s hand tightening briefly in silent gratitude.

Behind them, the old man had watched the exchange in stunned silence. But as he understood the meaning of Liliana’s words, his knees nearly buckled. He caught the edge of a table to steady himself.

"For years..." he croaked, his voice cracking. "For years, I thought I had lost him forever. I buried the man he once was the day they brought him home like that." His eyes were aged and heavy, and began to well up. "If there is even a sliver of a chance you can bring back even part of him, I will be forever in your debt."

Liliana didn’t look at him. Her gaze remained on the man, and her shoulders squared with the weight of the choice she had made.

"I do not need your gratitude because this man did not deserve another chance. He deserved death only." she said flatly. "This is just for the sake of truth."

The old man nodded, swallowing his hope like it was a fragile ember he couldn’t dare breathe too hard on. "No matter what the reason is, you are saving his life." Liliana ignored him. She did not want to remember this part even when she was going to do it.

"Prepare a space for me." Liliana said to Olivia, her tone all business now. "I will need quiet. A few herbs to make some potions and a silver bowl full of clean water."

"I will get them," the old man said quickly and shuffled away with a new urgency in his steps.

As soon as he left the room, Liliana turned back to Olivia, her voice low and tremulous again. "What if they went back on their words?"

"They won’t," Olivia interrupted softly. "If they even thought about it, I would burn them in front of everyone without a care in the world."

Liliana nodded once, eyes flicking to the man again, who had not moved since. "Then let’s begin. I could not wait to see their faces when the truth would come out."

Olivia moved swiftly, clearing the space in the center of the dim room. She laid out a blanket near the cushion where the man sat and opened the window slightly to let in the cool evening air. Liliana took off her cloak and rolled up her sleeves, her expression stony and full of hatred as she walked closer to the burnt man.

The old man returned an hour later with a silver bowl, its surface dulled by age but still intact, and a bundle of herbs tied with a red string. "These are all I could find in the market. I hope it has all the herbs you mentioned about." he said breathlessly. "Some of them are old."

Liliana opened the small bag and took out the leaves. She asked for many of them in the past but the village always told her that they did not have them anymore. She laughed at their hypocrisy, surprising the old man. He looked at her now, scared and confused. She shook her head and hid her negative emotions.

"They will do," Liliana cut in. "Leave them and go. I need silence. No one enters until we are done."

The old man nodded and backed out. He looked at his son hesitantly for a second before closing the door behind him.

Liliana knelt before the broken man and placed the silver bowl on the ground. She began to unwrap the herbs one by one mugwort, valerian, and dried petals of marigold. She whispered incantations as she crushed them with a mortar and pestle, mixing them into the bowl with clean water.

A faint, glowing mist rose from the liquid. Olivia watched silently from the side, holding a candle that flickered strangely under the brewing energy in the room.

Liliana dipped her fingers into the bowl, then touched the man’s scarred forehead. "This will hurt," she said with a cold face, though he showed no response. "But you will not die."