“Hooouuuu—!”
Suddenly, the white storm began to engulf the village of Lugen.
The eerie sound of wind seeping through the window frame was unsettling, and the white gusts visible beyond the glass looked ominous.
Nevertheless, the interior of the lodging was comfortable.
Most buildings had been designed to withstand white storms, which was quite the comfort.
Yet within this comfort were individuals filled with unease.
“Huff… A white storm, huh? We should be safe…”
“…”
It was Rendler and Rachel.
Rendler was worried about the safety of those who had ventured out to search for the snow-crafters, while Rachel was concerned about their status, isolated somewhere.
The duo, somewhere out there, in a place cut off from the world, was likely experiencing subtle and secretive troubles.
It was the first time such a thing had happened.
In the six-month journey, it was only Elden and Ariel who had strayed from the group.
Whenever the group needed to separate for a bit, it had always been Elden with Rendler, or Ariel with herself, so there had never been a situation quite like this.
Neither had she felt the thoughts nor the worries she now felt before.
‘…….’
And that feeling was something she had never experienced throughout her life.
If there was something she desired, she’d fight to get it. If she was frustrated, she would face it head-on until it was resolved.
But the discomfort and dissatisfaction she felt now were things she couldn’t fight or resolve.
These emotions were different from the way she had lived her life; she couldn’t grasp how to contend with them or how to untangle them.
Moreover,
Because of those feelings, she now seemed to understand how she had viewed Elden Raphelion as her disciple.
That night, she could confidently say that the reason she had hastily taken out the red dress she had saved for the engagement occasion was merely because she saw a possibility.
And when he said, “We’ll settle somewhere scenic,” she could now understand why she made the hasty remark about wanting to live the life of a woman somewhere as well.
She had lived her life battling an innate frailty.
Her life had been relentless and cold, to the point that only survival and growth filled her two eyes.
Swordsmanship, magic, battle, and blood—all those sorts of things.
There had never been a moment where she held any thoughts of males.
In the end, having lived in such a way, it was no exaggeration to say that she had become the personal bodyguard of the count’s family, the pinnacle for commoners.
The salary she received was something a mere peasant would never imagine, and with the money she had collected so far, she could live comfortably for the rest of her days.
She had finally fulfilled the promise she made to her father: “I will earn a lot of money!”
Others criticized her for her beautiful face, suggesting that she should use it to seduce the young masters as the wiser and easier method, but to Rachel, “men” were simply foes to overcome, and the act of “seducing” them for her ascent was a method she had never once considered.
Naturally, she had never held romantic feelings for a man, nor did she truly understand what romantic feelings even meant.
Vaguely, she had defined “a man stronger than me” as the target for any potential affection, but upon meeting that man, she had never thought about how to handle it or practiced for it.
She was skilled at wielding a sword.
She was something of a master when it came to fighting.
Still, when it came to dealing with men, she was as clumsy and inexperienced as a little girl swinging a sword.
Therefore,
Dealing with my own heart was inevitably as clumsy and awkward as when I hastily swung a sword in my childhood.
Over the past six months, I had witnessed his growth firsthand. Just as I had hoped and expected, he developed quickly, now possessing a level of skill that left me with nothing left to teach.
While his natural talent played a significant role, my careful observation and guidance over the past six months were equally important.
Perhaps that’s why
I didn’t want my efforts to help him become a man stronger than me to go to waste.
I didn’t want to donate that labor to someone else.
Having had a hand in his transformation from the reckless young master to the illustrious Blood-Sucking Young Master, it felt only natural for me, as his mentor, to exert some claim over that achievement.
Thus, a vague determination began to form within me. Just as a peasant wouldn’t want his hard-earned crops to be taken away, I resolved that, as a mentor, I wouldn’t let my hard-earned disciple slip away.
Of course, this could be excessive suspicion, a defensive stance, or a solitary foolish delusion. But with the arrival of the variable known as Lumia Winterfell, it seemed more than just a coincidence.
Moreover, Rendler had also mentioned that Ariel had “followed” Elden.
Even in the Duchy of Lundgren, it was the same. As the farewell approached, hadn’t Ariel declared, “I want to write a book about Elden’s story!” as she followed him?
So, being isolated in the sudden white storm, having some time together, was likely a situation crafted more by intention than chance.
However, Rachel, who held the belief that she wouldn’t trust anything unless she heard it with her own ears, saw it with her own eyes, and smelled it with her own nose, welcomed Ariel and Elden the next afternoon.
“I hope nothing serious happened.”
“Nothing serious happened?”
“…Is that so? Then let’s get ready.”
“Huh? Ready for what?”
“I found an open space behind the lodging. I propose we have a good old hand-to-hand sparring match to revisit what we learned.”
Hand-to-hand sparring.
Determined to gauge the truth behind their claim of having experienced nothing serious, Rachel led her disciple back to the open area, also aiming to let off some steam in the process.
“Thankfully, it seems you found a place to shelter.”
“I took refuge in a nearby cave, only to find it was the snow-crafter’s cave. Lucky me.”
“I see. So you three were in there?”
“Nope. I only met the snow-crafter this morning.”
“…So you and Lady Ariel were alone together from last evening until this morning?”
While moving to the open area, Rachel engaged in a bit of light interrogation. Elden, interpreting her gruff yet warm concern as the haughty mentor’s caring, answered cheerfully.
“Sure thing! But why’s that?”
“……It’s nothing.”
Rachel, who held her words back.
Having spent a long time alone together from evening to morning…
The abrupt white storm had made finding firewood to pass the time in the snowy mountains a challenge.
Coldness tends to bunch everything together.
When things cluster, they inevitably merge into one.
‘…….’
As I let my thoughts wander there, once again, an embarrassing delusion resurfaced, and Rachel hastily brushed it away as they reached the open area.
To put it bluntly, even if there was something between Ariel and Elden, I had no reason to hide it from myself.
If the noble youths and a lady harbored feelings for each other, then a mere commoner like me had no right to interfere.
It would be only right to wish them blessings and to chastise myself for daring to look up at a tree I could never climb.
However, it felt too wasteful to resign to that notion, considering the effort I had put in.
I feared that the enthusiasm I held for Elden’s growth might wane.
And I simply didn’t want that to happen.
If Ariel had feelings for Elden, she wouldn’t just sit idly by.
That was why I suggested a sparring match.
To verify my suspicions and also to herald the official start of my desire to live as a woman.
“Alright, let’s begin the sparring match. If your butt or hands touch the ground, you lose.”
“Alright, I’ll go first.”
And thus began the hand-to-hand match.
Several rounds passed, and an intense competitive spirit emerged.
This was possible only because Rachel wasn’t giving her all.
No matter how natural talent blessed Elden, he couldn’t match up to someone honed for a decade in just six months.
Of course, one moment of carelessness could lead to defeat, and Elden’s skills were no laughing matter.
Whoosh!
Thwack!
Swoosh!
Pop!
The clash continued rapidly.
Just as a bit of heat began to rise, Rachel feigned a lapse by stepping her left leg forward, creating an opening, and Elden capitalized on it by kicking her calf.
Wham!
Rachel’s left leg shot up, propelling her into the air.
The moment Elden relaxed, certain of his victory, Rachel yanked fiercely at his clothes.
With a grip like she was trying to hold onto her last shred of hope.
“Whoa?”
Thud!
With a crash, she landed flat on her backside.
And there she was, sprawled out on her back, still holding onto Elden’s clothes.
It was entirely natural that their bodies overlapped.
It was inevitable for Elden’s face to hover close to Rachel’s.
“……”
“…”
Moreover, the position was perfect for experiencing each other’s scent, and as Rachel quickly caught that whiff, she had to concede that her night’s wild fantasies might not be entirely false.
And…
“…”
She had to be grateful that it was the first time she loosened the pressure bandages in front of him.
It was the moment she finally acknowledged that which had always been a nuisance and, at times, an obstacle to her swordsmanship could serve as a wonderful weapon in a woman’s life.
The flush of embarrassment and heat spreading across Elden’s face certainly seemed to stem from their chests touching.
“R-Rachel…?”
Elden’s scent was laced with Ariel’s as well.
And not just a hint, but a very potent mix.
“It seems you’ve had more than a mere coincidence, haven’t you? My dear disciple?”
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