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Eris's crimson eyes suddenly narrowed, her excited expression freezing mid-breath.
In that split second—
Allen's hand flicked out from beneath his ribs without even turning his head, his fingers lightly tapping against her wooden sword.
"Bang!"
The moment his fingertip struck the blade, the sword shattered behind them. A splintered fragment shot straight toward Eris's eye—only to be caught by a sudden gust of wind, swirling like a leaf before embedding itself into the cracks of the stone floor.
A burst of wind exploded between them, whipping at their clothes.
Eris stared blankly at the dissipating currents, then lifted her gaze to Allen.
He had already turned to face her.
Sensing the lingering aura of battle energy in the air, he narrowed his eyes.
"Battle energy—I felt it this time. You succeeded."
"Not much, but on that last strike, you managed to wrap it around your sword."
As Eris's eyes widened further, he delivered his verdict.
"Congratulations, Eris."
"You've become an Advanced Swordsman."
Her lips curled into a wild grin. "Really?!"
"Really."
She leapt up, throwing her arms around his neck in sheer delight, even using his shoulders to swing herself in a quick circle before letting go and landing neatly. Without pause, she sprinted toward Ghyslaine, who stood watching with a smile.
"Ghyslaine! I finally made it to Advanced Swordsman!"
She crashed into Ghyslaine's arms. The swordswoman chuckled, ruffling her hair.
"Allen is a good teacher. Well done, Eris."
"Of course! Allen's the best!"
Even in her joy, Eris's mouth still twisted into her usual defiant pout, her chin jutting proudly toward the sky.
Rudeus, watching her brother-obsessed antics, twitched his lips. He turned his gaze back to Allen—only to find him staring up at the mansion's second-floor window.
Following his line of sight, Rudeus looked as well.
The red-haired, red-dressed figure who had stood there without fail for months during their sword training was absent.
So was Sylphie.
Both had watched their practice sessions from that window every afternoon since three months ago.
At first, Sylphie had still joined them in the courtyard for lessons.
But after witnessing this scene twice, she had taken to staying upstairs with Lady Hilda instead.
Pressed against the glass, their expressions had been clear.
Over those three months, Rudeus had noticed something.
Lady Hilda's smiles had grown brighter, more radiant.
Yet Sylphie… had stopped smiling altogether.
She often just watched Lady Hilda's face in silence, her expression unreadable.
But that scene had vanished half a month ago.
Because—
Lady Hilda had fallen ill.
The cause? Unknown.
Doctors insisted there was nothing physically wrong with her.
Yet she was undeniably sick, bedridden for over two weeks now.
It had started with the first blizzard of winter.
Rudeus remembered clearly.
Because the day it snowed—
Was Allen's birthday.
"How is Lady Hilda?"
The moment the question left his lips, Eris's grin stiffened. Ghyslaine's expression faltered.
Silence settled over them.
During the first week of Hilda's illness, they had all been frantic with worry. But when the doctors declared her perfectly healthy, they had been left in stunned confusion for days.
Classes had nearly stopped entirely.
It was only after Sylphie sternly urged them to continue that they resumed their lessons, agreeing not to let their emotions disrupt their studies—after all, the doctors had confirmed there was no physical ailment.
But…
When the distractions of training or lectures faded, even someone as thick-skinned as Eris couldn't hide her unease.
They were still worried.
All three of them turned to Allen.
He gazed at the empty window for a long moment before finally speaking.
"Let's end today's lesson here."
"We'll go see her together."
——
"Shh… Please keep your voices down. Lady Hilda just fell asleep."
As they reached the door to Hilda's bedroom, Aisha bowed slightly, whispering the warning with unusual solemnity. The blush she usually wore around Allen had been absent these past two weeks.
Carefully, she turned the doorknob.
The door opened.
Evening sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the room in gold.
Sylphie stood by the window, her white hair glowing in the sunset as she turned to look at them.
Her eyes—amber-brown—locked onto Allen's face.
She blinked, as if startled.
In her gaze, Allen stepped forward, leading the others inside.
All of them moved silently.
Eris, usually so boisterous, tiptoed with exaggerated care, her Advanced Swordsman dignity nowhere to be seen.
They approached.
On the couch by the window, Hilda lay curled on her side. The elegant updo she always wore was gone, her red hair loose and tangled against the cushions. To make it easier for everyone to visit after lessons, she had taken to resting here during the day.
Her eyes were closed, her face thinner than it had been months ago. Even in sleep, she looked exhausted.
Yet her hand was clasped tightly in another's.
Not Sylphie's.
Allen followed the line of Hilda's arm.
Her fingers were enveloped by a larger, calloused hand—holding her gently, as if afraid to disturb her rest.
Or perhaps…
Hilda had only fallen asleep because of the person before her.
The man who had once asked her to dance at a banquet thirteen years ago—Philip.
The usually busy lord of Roa sat at her side, his noble composure intact despite the shadows under his eyes. He stared down at his wife's hand, lost in thought.
"F-Father…?"
Eris crept closer, whispering.
Philip lifted his head.
The ever-smiling nobleman's eyes were bloodshot.
Stubble darkened his jaw.
He looked at Allen.
Nodded once.
Said nothing.
For a moment, the two men simply watched each other.
Then Philip carefully released Hilda's hand and straightened, tilting his chin toward the door—a silent signal to talk outside.
Allen nodded in understanding.
He turned to leave—
Only for fingers to wrap around his wrist.
He glanced down.
Slender, pale digits curled against his skin.
His gaze traveled upward—over delicate wrists, narrow shoulders, a fragile neck—
Until he met Sylphie's eyes.
Her reddish-brown stare held his.
Something in her expression made him pause.
Then—
He looked down.
On the couch, Hilda's eyes were open.
Watching him.
The sunset painted her gray irises with flickering light.
It was time for class to end.
She couldn't sleep soundly.
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Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 260 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 60 power stones I will publish the next chapter.