Lavi went tense, but did his best not to look too nervous as he heard the person speak behind him. He turned, one hand still covering his right eye, and had to fight the instinct to use the other to cover his privates. He'd rather have the hand free and ready to react quickly, frankly.
Studying the newcomer, he felt his heart sink. The man was dressed in something that looked incredibly makeshift, and the beautiful sword he was carrying didn't exactly fit the outfit. The man was missing his left arm, which meant the sword was occupying his only good hand.
But the part that had Lavi feeling like he was in the middle of a nightmare was what the man had said. "I... don't even know what root language that is," he said, shaking his head slowly and staring at the man with a sick fascination. "I have no idea how to communicate with you... and that bothers me more than anything else so far."
He was a Bookman. He knew every major language on Earth, and a fair chunk of the dialects and minor languages. At the very least, he should have been able to figure out what root the man's language was from, and therefore have been able to guess at some basic words. This was like nothing he'd ever heard or read before.