Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Lucas studied them, his eyes moving from Cecilia to Flora, then to Gwen, weighing their words, their resolve, and the reality of the situation. They weren't wrong. This town was already under control, already compromised, and leaving them behind might not be the protection he thought it was.

Patrick leaned slightly toward him, speaking quietly. "She's right," he said. "They'll be safer moving with us than staying here alone."

Tom nodded once. "And if they know the terrain better, that's an advantage."

Lucas exhaled slowly, his expression tightening for a brief moment before he finally gave in.

"Fine," he said. "You come with us."

Relief flickered across Cecilia's face, though she quickly composed herself.

"But," Lucas added, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument, "you follow orders. No risks. No hesitation. If I say move, you move. If I say hide, you hide. Understood?"

Cecilia nodded immediately. "Understood."

Flora gave a calm nod. "We won't be a burden."

Gwen followed with a quiet, "Yes."

Lucas held their gaze for a moment longer, ensuring they understood the gravity of what they were walking into, then turned away slightly, his mind already shifting back to the mission ahead.

After about thirty minutes, the preparations were complete, and what awaited them was nothing short of a rare luxury given everything they had endured, a wide stone pool filled with mildly hot, steaming water, faint wisps of vapor rising gently into the air, carrying with it a subtle, calming scent from the herbs Flora had added. It wasn't extravagant by noble standards, but to men who had spent months marching, fighting, bleeding, and surviving with little more than the bare essentials, it might as well have been paradise.

Tom was the first to react, letting out a loud, disbelieving laugh as he stepped forward. "You've got to be kidding me…" he said, already pulling at his armor. "A proper bath?"

Patrick, usually composed and reserved, allowed himself a rare grin. "At this point, I'd settle for cold water," he admitted. "This… this is a blessing."

The others didn't need further encouragement. Within moments, armor and clothing were being discarded without a second thought, modesty long abandoned somewhere along the brutal roads they had traveled, and with a collective shout that broke the tension they had carried for weeks, they rushed forward and plunged straight into the steaming pool.

The reaction was immediate.

Relief.

Pure, unfiltered relief.

Tom let out a loud holler as he sank into the water. "By the heavens… I'm not getting out of this!" he declared, splashing water over himself like a man rediscovering life.

One of the others laughed, leaning back into the warmth. "I swear I can feel the dirt peeling off my soul," he said, running a hand through his soaked hair.

Patrick shook his head slightly, though even he couldn't hide the satisfaction in his expression as he settled into the water, the tension in his body visibly easing. "Don't drown in it," he muttered dryly, though there was no real reprimand in his tone.

They splashed, joked, and laughed, the sound echoing lightly within the enclosed space, a stark contrast to the grim silence that had defined their journey for so long, and for that brief moment, they were no longer soldiers on a dangerous mission, but simply men reclaiming a piece of comfort they hadn't realized they had missed so much.

From the side, Flora watched them with a small, knowing smile, her eyes reflecting quiet amusement as she shook her head slightly. "Men," she muttered softly, though there was warmth in her voice.

Gwen stood beside her, unable to hold back a light laugh as she observed the scene, her earlier tension easing at the sight. "You'd think they'd never seen water before," she said.

Flora chuckled faintly. "After what they've been through, this might as well be a miracle."

For once, in a world that had grown dark and unforgiving…It was.

Cecilia led Lucas quietly up the wooden stairs, away from the noise and laughter below, into a smaller, more private room where a round wooden bath had already been prepared for him, the water inside gently steaming, its surface calm and inviting, faint traces of herbs swirling within it to give off a soothing scent. It was simple, but carefully arranged, thoughtful in a way that spoke of care rather than luxury.

She turned to him without hesitation and began helping him remove his robe, her movements gentle, unhurried, as though mindful of the strain his body had endured. Lucas didn't resist, allowing himself, for once, to simply be taken care of, the weight of weeks, months even, finally catching up to him now that he had a moment to breathe.

When he stepped into the bath, the warmth wrapped around him instantly, seeping into his muscles, easing tension he hadn't even realized he was still carrying, and a quiet breath escaped him as he sank in slightly, his body relaxing in a way it hadn't in a very long time.

"…Thank you," he said softly.

Cecilia didn't respond with words at first. Instead, she moved closer, sitting beside the tub as she picked up a sponge, dipping it into the warm water before gently placing it against his back, her touch careful as she began to scrub away the dirt and dried remnants of battle that still clung to him.

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of water and movement.

She worked slowly, methodically, as though there was no rush, her hands tracing over the lines of strain and fatigue his body carried, and when she moved behind him to wash his hair, guiding it back carefully, Lucas closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to fully sink into the moment, the sensation oddly grounding after everything he had faced.

But when she shifted her position again, moving slightly to face him…

She saw it, his scarred and burnt face. She hadn't see it before cos Lucas's hair was covering half his face.

Clear against his face, harsh and undeniable, remnants of something violent, something that had come dangerously close to taking him.

Her hand paused.

Her expression changed almost instantly, the softness in her eyes deepening into something heavier, something filled with quiet pity and concern as she took in the extent of it.

"Xavier…" she said gently, her voice lower now. "What happened to you?"

Lucas opened his eyes, meeting her gaze, and for a moment, there was silence between them before a small smile formed on his lips, not one of pride, but one of acceptance.

"It wasn't an easy journey," he said lightly.

Cecilia didn't look convinced. "That's more than a journey," she replied softly. "Those scars…"

Lucas leaned back slightly in the bath, the water shifting around him as he exhaled. "The Abyss wasn't empty when I passed through it," he said.

Her eyes sharpened slightly. "What do you mean?"

He looked at her, his tone calm, but the memory behind his words carried weight. "I encountered something there," he said. "A shadow dragon."

Cecilia's breath caught slightly. "A… dragon?"

Lucas nodded faintly. "Not like the ones you've heard of," he continued. "This one was… different. It wasn't just a creature. It was part of the Abyss itself. Formed from it. Feeding on it."

As he spoke, his voice remained steady, but the story he told carried the intensity of the encounter, the suffocating darkness, the overwhelming pressure, the battle that had pushed him beyond his limits, the fire, the corruption, and the moment where survival had been uncertain.

Cecilia listened in silence, her earlier movements forgotten, her attention fully on him now, her expression shifting between shock, concern, and something deeper as she tried to grasp the scale of what he had faced alone.

"And you fought it?" she asked quietly.

Lucas gave a faint smile. "I didn't have much of a choice."

Her gaze lingered on his scars again, her hand moving slightly as if she wanted to touch them, but she held back, her voice softer now. "You could have died…"

Lucas shrugged lightly, the water rippling around him. "I almost did."

The simplicity of his answer made it heavier.

Cecilia looked at him for a long moment, her eyes filled with a quiet ache, because hearing it was one thing, but seeing the marks it left on him made it real in a way she couldn't ignore, and for a brief moment, the room felt smaller, more intimate, as the weight of his survival settled between them.