Reborn, Its Time To Save My Family And.. My Enemy!
Chapter 272: Get A Burial

Chapter 272: Get A Burial

The man closed his eyes. Even if he died in her hands, he would not mind it. He deserved death for his acts. For years, he had thought about his actions. In the start, he had blamed the girl but slowly, he had realised how wrong they were!

Liliana began chanting in an ancient tongue, one that hadn’t been used in centuries except by high coven healers. The glow from the bowl spread in threads of light, snaking along the floor and crawling up the man’s arms. The cloth wrapped around him began to tremble.

Olivia watched as the man’s fingers curled into claws of agony, and his body shook violently. Liliana’s eyes never left him.

She reached for a vial of pale blue liquid from her belt and uncorked it. Carefully, she poured it over the man’s chest. The moment it touched his skin, the scarring began to shimmer, then peel away like cracked paint under light.

A raw and guttural scream burst from his mouth. Olivia nearly dropped the candle with the force of it.

"His voice is back.," she breathed. "He screamed with such force. I am sure he could speak again."

Liliana didn’t stop chanting. She held the man’s face now between her hands, her voice louder, shaking from the effort. Her own nose had begun to bleed, but she kept going. "Let the guilt leave your bones. Let the truth unshackle your soul," she said between chants. "Let the pain speak what your tongue cannot."

The scarred man’s body arched violently. his eyes rolling back and then suddenly, they snapped open. He gasped and coughed many mouths full of blood. His lips trembled as he rasped out, "I am sorry."

Liliana fell backward, catching herself with one hand. Sweat poured down her face, and her limbs trembled. Olivia rushed to her side and steadied her.

The man groaned, his voice hoarse but real. "I can speak!"

"You can," Liliana murmured, panting. "And you will. You will speak everything."

The glow faded from the bowl. The mist thinned and vanished. The scars on his face were still there, but softened. They no longer looked grotesque.

He looked down at his hands, then at Liliana. And to Olivia’s shock, he slowly leaned forward on shaking limbs and fell to his knees in front of the healer.

His voice cracked. "You gave me back what I thought was gone forever. I can never repay this. Thank you."

Liliana didn’t smile. She simply looked at him, exhausted. "Don’t thank me. Speak your truth to the village. That is all the repayment I want."

He bowed his head, trembling. "I will. I swear it, I will tell the truth and pay for the sins I have committed."

Behind them, the door creaked open slightly and the old man peeked in. He must have heard the voice of his son from outside and he could not control himself anymore.

Olivia turned toward the man and spoke in a calm and clear voice. "He can speak."

The old man’s mouth fell open but no voice came out. Tears spilled silently down his cheeks. He stepped in, stumbling toward his son and dropping to his knees beside him.

"My boy..."

Liliana stood slowly, Olivia helping her up. "Let them have this moment," she said softly.

Liliana didn’t answer. She only looked at the man again and whispered under her breath, "For you, sister. The truth is no longer buried."

The man swayed as he tried to rise, his limbs trembling from the strain of both the ritual and his long affliction. His father instinctively reached out and gripped his arm, helping him stand. It was a slow, painful movement. his legs shook, barely able to carry his weight, but he did not falter.

"You need to rest first," his father said, concern etched deep into every wrinkle on his face. "You have only just started to recover. You shouldn’t push yourself too much."

But the man shook his head.

"No," he rasped. His voice, though hoarse, carried the weight of something far stronger than pride, it carried resolve. "I need to speak before I lose the courage to face them. Before doubt has the chance to take root again in my heart. I want to clear my conscience first."

His eyes, bloodshot and sunken, lifted to meet Liliana’s. "If I fall again after that, I won’t mind."

Olivia nodded at him, impressed by the clarity burning in his gaze. "Then we will make sure they are all there to hear you."

She turned to Liliana and squeezed her arm gently. "We will gather everyone near the plaza. Bring him there once he is ready."

With that, she left quickly, Damon falling into step beside her without a word, his eyes flickering with grim approval at the man’s choice.

Liliana watched them disappear beyond the door, then turned back to the man. She pulled a small, round vial from her pouch, its contents a golden liquid with faint streaks of green swirling inside. "Drink this," she instructed as she held it to his lips. "It won’t make you strong, but it will help your body hold together for what’s ahead. Enough to walk, speak, and stand."

He didn’t hesitate. He drank it, coughing once as the sharp bitterness hit his tongue, but soon his trembling seemed to ease slightly.

Liliana stepped beside him, throwing his arm gently over her shoulders. "Lean on me," she said firmly, hiding the worry under her disdain. "But don’t you dare collapse halfway there. I am not carrying you." and these caring and kind women are called witches. The man once again felt ashamed of his action and the impact it had on those girls.

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yes, i understood. Thank you for your kindness, my lady." His father followed close behind, just in case as liliana dragged the man away slowly making sure that he did not feel much pain.

"Did she get a burial at that time?"

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