Chapter 70: The Clothes She Never Asked For

The sprawling northern town appeared through the thinning trees just before noon.

It was larger and far more fortified than the hidden settlement they had left behind. It was a major crossroads, alive with activity.

Muddy stone streets crossed chaotically between tight rows of wooden shops, crowded inns, and armored warehouses. Merchants shouted over one another from wooden stalls, haggling over prices. Armored adventurers moved confidently through the thoroughfares, carrying bloody monster parts toward the local Guild branch. Supply carriages rattled loudly through the main avenue, spraying mud. Common travelers hurried between buildings to escape the lingering chill.

Lyra stopped at the edge of the muddy entrance, taking in the sheer scale of the place.

"So, this is the main town."

Kōya scanned the crowd for threats. "Apparently so."

"You have honestly never been here before?"

"No."

"Do you ever actually know where you are going, Kōya?"

"I am currently getting better at it."

Lyra smiled, a teasing glint in her eyes. "That is not very convincing."

Kōya ignored the smile.

They walked together into the chaotic settlement.

Kōya immediately registered the deafening noise and the sheer number of people packed into the streets. Almost everyone moving around them carried something: forged weapons, travel packs, reinforced armor, magical tools, books, and bundles of clothing.

Forged weapons. Travel packs. Reinforced leather armor. Glowing magical tools. Stacks of books. Excess clothing.

Lyra looked around quietly, her eyes wide with awe and apprehension. Kōya noticed her gaze darting from one shop window to another as they walked.

"Do you need something?" he asked.

"No."

"You are definitely looking."

"I am just casually looking."

"You are staring directly at the clothes."

Lyra aggressively looked away, staring at the muddy street. "I am not."

Kōya stopped walking.

Lyra took two more steps before she realized he was no longer directly beside her. She turned around, confused. "What?"

"You need new clothes."

"I am completely fine."

Kōya looked critically at her current outfit. It was the exact same filthy clothing she had worn when he first found her in the ruined fortress. The thin fabric had been hastily repaired in several places with rough stitching. One sleeve was noticeably shorter than the other where it had been torn. The hem was jagged and caked with dried mud. Her simple leather shoes were barely holding together, the soles dangerously thin.

"You are not fine," Kōya stated flatly.

Lyra defensively folded her arms across her chest. "I can walk perfectly well."

"That is not the same thing as being suitably equipped for the mountains."

"They still work."

"They are falling apart as we speak."

"They still technically work."

Kōya stared at her.

Lyra stubbornly stared back.

Finally, Kōya broke the stalemate. He pointed a scarred finger toward a bustling, well-lit clothing shop across the street.

"We are going in there."

Lyra’s eyes widened. "What?"

"Clothes."

"Kōya, I do not need..."

"We are going."

"Kōya!"

He was already walking through the mud toward the shop.

Lyra hurried after him, trying to keep up. "You cannot unilaterally decide that for me!"

"I just did."

"That is the problem with you!"

"What problem?"

"You just arbitrarily decide everything for everyone!"

Kōya stopped dead outside the shop door. Lyra nearly walked face-first into his back.

He turned around, his expression intensely serious.

"You explicitly told me you wanted to continue traveling with me."

"I did."

"Then you need proper, warm clothes."

"Why?!"

"Because I do not want to watch you freeze to death on a mountain pass because your left sleeve has a massive hole in it."

Lyra went quiet.

Kōya turned back toward the shop door. "Come on."

She followed him inside.

The tired shopkeeper looked up. He looked critically at Lyra’s rags. Then at Kōya’s heavily armed, blood-stained appearance. Then back at Lyra again.

"Traveling clothes?" the shopkeeper asked, reading the situation perfectly.

"Yes," Kōya answered.

The shopkeeper smiled warmly. "Of course. Right this way."

Lyra immediately became uncomfortable under the scrutiny. She shrank slightly behind Kōya. "I really don’t need much."

Kōya looked around the shop, analyzing the stock. "Something highly durable."

"For winter or summer travel?" the shopkeeper asked.

"Both."

The shopkeeper nodded professionally. "A heavy travel cloak?"

"Yes."

"Sturdy boots?"

"Yes."

"Spare clothes?"

"Two complete sets."

Lyra stared at him in shock. "Kōya."

"What?"

"Two entire sets?"

"One set to wear." He pointed toward a rack. "One spare for when the first gets covered in mud or blood."

Lyra opened her mouth to argue, then slowly closed it.

The shopkeeper smiled in approval. "A sensible choice."

Kōya looked down at Lyra. "Anything else you specifically require?"

"No."

"Good."

The shopkeeper quickly brought out several outfits and laid them on the counter. They were simple and practical, with nothing extravagant or bright enough to attract unwanted attention on the road.

A sturdy, dark green travel dress and thick, reinforced leggings. A second, lighter set of practical traveling clothes. A heavy, warm, wool-lined cloak. Sturdy, well-made leather boots. Thick winter gloves. A reinforced leather belt. A small, practical travel pouch.

A few minutes later, Lyra stood nervously in front of the tall mirror wearing the first new set.

She barely recognized her own reflection.

The clothes weren’t expensive or elegant. They were simply clean, comfortable, and hers.

She looked tentatively over her shoulder toward Kōya. He was standing casually near the front door, arms crossed, keeping an eye on the street.

"What?" she asked self-consciously.

"Nothing."

"You were staring at me."

"I was simply checking whether the armor fit properly."

"They are clothes, not armor. And they fit."

"Good."

Lyra looked at herself in the mirror again, touching the soft fabric of the cloak.

"I’ve never had clothes chosen for me before."

Kōya frowned. "You have never bought your own clothing?"

She shook her head, looking at the floor. "I usually just wore whatever scraps I was given."

Kōya didn’t respond. His jaw tightened.

The shopkeeper politely looked away, pretending to organize some shirts.

Lyra glanced between Kōya and the shopkeeper. She forced a bright smile. "They really are very nice."

Kōya nodded once. "Then keep them."

Lyra blinked, confused. "Keep them?"

"Yes."

"I thought we were just trying them on."

"We are buying them."

"I mean..." She hesitated, wringing her new gloves in her hands. "You are buying them for me?"

Kōya looked genuinely confused by the question. "Yes."

"You don’t have to do that."

"I know."

"I can somehow work to pay you back."

"No."

"I can eventually repay you."

"No."

"Then why are you doing this?"

Kōya stared at her as though the answer was the most obvious fact in the world. "Because you need clothes."

Lyra looked down at her new boots.

That simple answer seemed to confuse her more than any complicated explanation could have.

Kōya watched her hesitate. "What is wrong now?"

"Nothing."

"You are making that specific face again."

"What face?"

"The one where you are overthinking."

Lyra looked away, her cheeks flushing. "I just... I’m really not used to people buying things for me without expecting something terrible in return."

Kōya’s cold expression softened slightly. "You will get used to it."

The words came out entirely naturally.

Lyra looked up at him. He seemed completely serious.

She smiled, a relieved expression. "Okay."

They left the clothing shop carrying several heavy canvas bags. Lyra kept looking down happily at the bags swinging from her hand as they walked.

Kōya noticed the distraction. "Is there something wrong with the bags?"

"No."

"You keep staring at them."

"I just really like them."

"Then stop worrying."

"I’m not worrying."

"You definitely are."

Lyra smiled wider. "Maybe."

They continued their patrol through the bustling town.

Kōya stopped abruptly at a heavily stocked equipment store. He moved through the aisles, buying the supplies they needed. Strong climbing rope. High-quality flint and steel. Durable travel cookware. A comprehensive medical kit. A heavy spare blanket. A large, reinforced water container.

Lyra watched the pile grow on the counter in amazement. "You think of everything."

"No."

"You just bought half the inventory of the shop."

"I bought exactly what we require to survive."

"Do you always spend money this aggressively?"

"No."

"Then why start now?"

Kōya looked down at her. "Because we are going much farther east tomorrow."

She understood immediately. The farther east they traveled, the fewer chances they would have to resupply safely. He was preparing for the road ahead, not wasting his dwindling funds.

Preparing for war.

They eventually reached a quiet, specialized magic shop near the edge of the market district.

Lyra stopped dead in the street, staring at the window display.

Kōya noticed her sudden halt. "Interested?"

She nodded eagerly.

A small silver bell rang cheerfully as they pushed open the heavy wooden door.

Dusty wooden shelves filled the dimly lit room. Glowing magic stones. Sealed scrolls. Bubbling potion bottles. Thick, leather-bound books. Polished wands. Humming crystals. Intricately enchanted tools.

Lyra’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

Kōya watched her reaction. "You really like this place."

"I have never seen this many real magical items in one room."

"Then look around."

Lyra walked slowly between the dusty shelves, examining everything without touching.

The older, spectacled shopkeeper noticed her interest and smiled kindly. "Is it your first time formally studying arcane magic, miss?"

Lyra nodded shyly.

"What specific kind of magic?"

"I don’t know yet."

The shopkeeper smiled wider. "Then you must start with the core fundamentals."

He pointed toward a specific shelf containing several thin, basic instructional books. Lyra eagerly picked one up. She carefully opened the cover.

The crisp pages contained detailed, hand-drawn diagrams. Intricate mana pathways. Basic, low-tier spell structures. The core elemental principles of magic.

Lyra stared at the complex diagrams, fascinated.

Kōya stood quietly beside her. "Do you understand any of that?"

"Some of it."

"Good."

She eagerly looked at another book. Then another.

Kōya watched her move from one shelf to the next.

The girl who had once sat shivering inside Zeref’s fortress was now eagerly comparing books, asking questions, and reaching for another volume before she had finished the first.

He hadn’t seen this side of her before.

Lyra looked toward a locked glass display case near the counter.

Inside the velvet-lined case rested a very simple, unadorned wooden wand. There was nothing overtly impressive about it. No flashy jewels. No elaborate gold decoration. Just perfectly polished, dark wood with a very small, clear crystal securely embedded near the tip.

She stared longingly at it.

Kōya followed her gaze to the case. "That specific one?"

Lyra nodded slowly. "I don’t know."

"You’ve been staring at it for a while."

"I just really like it."

"Then try it."

She looked nervously at the shopkeeper. "May I?"

He nodded encouragingly, unlocking the case.

Lyra gingerly picked up the polished wand.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then, the small, clear crystal at its tip began to softly, steadily glow. Very faintly. But undeniably.

Lyra’s eyes widened in shock. The glow disappeared when she lowered her hand.

The shopkeeper smiled, clearly impressed. "Fascinating."

"What?" Lyra asked.

"Your raw, untrained mana responded naturally to the focus."

Lyra looked excitedly at Kōya. "Does that mean..."

"It means you can probably learn to use it effectively," Kōya finished. He looked directly at the shopkeeper. "How much?"

The shopkeeper gave him a very reasonable price. Kōya immediately placed the coins on the counter.

Lyra immediately protested. "Kōya, no!"

"What?"

"You already bought my expensive clothes!"

"And?"

"And all the travel supplies! And now a wand?!"

"You need a proper magical focus to channel."

"I can learn the theory from the books without it."

"Maybe."

"But..."

Kōya took the wand from the counter and held it out to her. "Take it."

Lyra stared at the offered wood. Her trembling fingers slowly, carefully closed around the smooth handle.

"Thank you."

Kōya simply nodded. He looked back toward the shelf of books. "Choose exactly two."

Lyra blinked. "Two entire books?"

"Fundamentals."

She eagerly looked back through the stack. After several minutes of indecision, she happily selected two specific volumes.

The smiling shopkeeper carefully packed everything.

Lyra carried the heavy books tightly against her chest as they walked toward the door. She looked genuinely happier than Kōya had ever seen her.

He smiled faintly, opening the door for her.

They were almost out of the busy magic shop when Lyra stopped completely dead in the doorway.

Kōya looked back at her. "What is it?"

She wasn’t looking at him.

She was staring toward a merchant stall across the muddy street, completely paralyzed.

A greasy merchant stood proudly behind a long wooden table. Several heavy, glowing metal collars and intricate, rune-carved restraint devices were prominently displayed there for sale.

Kōya immediately recognized what the hardware was used for.

Slave equipment.

Kōya saw her hands tighten around the books.

"Lyra."

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t hear him. Her terrified eyes remained fixed on the horrific display.

The merchant was speaking casually, loudly to another interested customer.

"These are incredibly high-quality pieces, my friend. Advanced magical reinforcement. They won’t break or unlock, even under the stress of strong, resistant mana..."

Lyra took a shaky, terrified step backward into the shop.

Kōya instantly moved his broad body, completely blocking her line of sight to the stall.

"Lyra. Look at me."

She blinked rapidly, snapping out of the trance. "I’m... I’m fine."

"No, you are not."

"I’m fine." Her voice trembled badly.

Kōya looked closely at her face. Her face had gone pale.

He didn’t ask her again. He turned his body fully away from the market street. "Come on. We are leaving."

Lyra didn’t move for a second. Kōya waited without pressuring her.

After several seconds, she managed to follow him.

They walked quickly away from the bustling market district, heading back toward the quieter streets near their inn. Neither of them spoke a single word.

When they finally reached a quiet, empty street, Kōya stopped walking. "Do you want to just go back to the inn for the day?"

Lyra nodded miserably.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

That cold evening, Lyra sat quietly on the edge of her bed beside the small window.

Her beautiful new wand rested securely on the wooden table. Her magical books were stacked neatly beside it. Her brand-new, warm clothes hung near the foot of the bed.

Everything was new. Everything should have made her happy.

Instead, she couldn’t stop thinking about that stall in the market. The heavy, glowing collars. The rusted chains. The merchant’s cheerful, casual tone of voice. He spoke as though another living person’s freedom were simply a mundane item with a price tag attached.

Kōya sat across the small room, cleaning a dagger. He didn’t pry. He didn’t demand to know what had happened. He simply waited.

Eventually, the silence became too heavy. Lyra spoke, her voice trembling slightly in the dark.

"I hate those things."

Kōya stopped polishing the blade and looked up at her. "The magical collars?"

She nodded slowly. "I know."

"I just... I don’t like seeing them out in the open like that."

"I know."

She looked down at her hands resting in her lap.

"Do you want to tell me why?" Kōya asked softly.

Lyra remained completely silent, staring at the floorboards.

Kōya didn’t push the issue.

After a long while, she shook her head. "Not yet."

"Okay."

That was all he said. He didn’t interrogate her or pressure her to confess.

Lyra looked up at him in surprise. "You really don’t want to know?"

"I do want to know."

"Then why don’t you force me to tell you?"

"Because you will tell me when you are ready."

Lyra’s eyes became slightly wet. She quickly looked away toward the dark window, hiding her face.

"You are incredibly strange, Kōya."

"I have been told that before."

She laughed quietly, a watery sound. Then, she discreetly wiped her eyes.

Kōya politely pretended not to notice.

Later that night, long after the town had gone to sleep, Lyra quietly picked up her new wooden wand from the table.

She held it carefully, almost afraid that something so precious might disappear. A very faint, warm light appeared effortlessly at its tip, casting a soft glow across the dark room.

She smiled.

For the first time in a very long while, something beautiful belonged entirely to her because someone had given her the choice to have it. There was no chain around her wrist. No command waiting behind the gift. Nothing she had to repay.

Just a gift.

She looked across the dark room. Kōya was already fast asleep on the other narrow bed. His ancient Hero Sword rested securely beside him. The legendary Stormfront lay nearby on the floor.

Two legendary weapons rested beside him. Two powers capable of terrifying entire armies.

Yet when Kōya had looked at her torn, filthy clothes, he hadn’t treated her like a burden or a possession.

He had simply thought she needed something better.

She needed something better.

Lyra smiled faintly in the dark. Then, she whispered into the silence,

"Thank you."

Kōya didn’t wake.

Outside the window, the busy town had gradually become completely quiet. But the terrifying image of the glowing slave collars remained stubbornly burned into Lyra’s mind. And for the first time since she had been rescued, the past she had kept buried began pressing back into her thoughts.

Not quite enough to reveal everything. Not yet.

But Kōya understood one thing.

She had been carrying something dark and heavy long before he found her in the rain.

Something she was not yet ready to name.