Allen was a little baffled.
He hadn't expected that after staring at him in stunned silence for a few moments, Laws would just say four words—
And agree to let Sylphy go to Roa to "further her education"?
He hadn't even had the chance to give the heartfelt speech he'd prepared.
But in the redness around Laws' eyes, Allen saw a father's sincere love.
So he only gave a single-word reply.
After all, taking care of Sylphy—of course that was something he would do.
There was no need for grand, superficial promises.
Still, while they were packing, a minor mishap did occur. Allen was helping Sylphy organize her things—magic books, class notes, diaries—when he suddenly heard her let out a sharp, "Ah!"
She darted over with surprising urgency, snatched the diary right out of Allen's hands, and left the rest of the books behind.
Allen blinked, momentarily confused.
Before he could recover, Sylphy spun him around on the spot and made him face the door in shame.
The Laws household was small; many personal items were kept in plain sight.
Letting Allen handle those kinds of things—what would that look like?
In the end, after tearful hugs with her parents and a promise to come visit often, Sylphy stepped outside.
Worth mentioning: when Laws and Nolda embraced Sylphy, they pulled Allen into the hug as well.
Allen blinked, then silently raised his arms and hugged them back.
Though, in his arms, Sylphy's body was as stiff as a board.
Completely rigid.
She declined her parents' offer to escort her to Paul's house. They didn't press the issue either—after all, Paul Greyrat's noble surname carried weight, and the carriages that came this afternoon had been seen by the whole village.
Roa?
That was a good place.
If Sylphy could go further—reach higher—
Then Laws and Nolda would be proud.
They knew they couldn't give her a distinguished lineage. Instead, they had given her green hair, a symbol of calamity, and a shadowed childhood of bullying.
They had no right to burden her with more suffering.
Suffering should not be glorified.
She deserved a better future.
And so, under the waving hands of Laws and Nolda, Allen and Sylphy set off.
...
When Allen and Sylphy returned, it had only been about an hour.
Sylphy walked beside Allen with her head lowered, a small pack on her back.
Allen held her hand; wind and rain bent around them, unable to touch.
So this is another use of [Perception Flow]...?
Paul, Zenith, Rudeus and the others had been anxiously watching from the window. When they saw two figures—one tall, one small—approaching through the rain, they all clenched their fists and cheered in unison.
Then they burst out the door.
Inside the house, Philip calmly sipped a glass of water.
Exactly as he'd expected.
Lilia was tending to the children, wiggling her finger to amuse Aisha, who was pouting and shifting her gaze as if searching for someone. She didn't look very happy.
Which was also exactly as she'd expected.
But had Paul, Zenith, and the others foreseen this scene?
Who could say?
All they did was rush outside, shouting with joy.
Just because something is expected—
Does that mean you shouldn't be happy about it?
Later, when Paul eagerly asked Allen how Laws had agreed, he got a reply even Allen himself found surprising.
Paul's face froze, twitched a few times, and then a look of awe broke through—so radiant that not even the downpour could obscure it.
His whole expression screamed just two words:
Holy crap.
You won over someone's daughter with a single word?
You're something else.
And that Laws guy too—impressive.
They're all impressive.
In the rain, Sylphy's white dress was streaked with mud, and she had a thick coat draped over her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled as she thanked Zenith for helping carry her things, but her body fidgeted restlessly the whole time.
To Zenith, the message was loud and clear.
As soon as Allen entered her line of sight, Sylphy reflexively looked away.
Just like the first time they met.
That day, she couldn't look Allen in the eye.
Today, she couldn't look at his silhouette.
It seemed the same—
But it was entirely different.
What kind of feeling was this?
Zenith smiled and glanced to her side—
Paul was still wildly waggling his eyebrows at Allen, who looked completely lost, clearly unsure what Paul was trying to communicate with all his mugging.
How wonderful.
...
After everyone had shared a round of warm tea, and Allen spent some time playing with Aisha
...
The time to part had come.
Philip had brought four carriages for this trip.
The first was his personal carriage, manned by two beastfolk maids—one with bunny ears, the other with wolf ears.
The second belonged to Miss Eris, accompanied by a beastfolk maid with matching cat ears, just like her.
The third carried two servants and various travel snacks and desserts.
The fourth housed another beastfolk maid and was otherwise empty—reserved for Allen and the others' luggage.
Each carriage had a designated coachman.
Everything was arranged with precision.
Allen, Rudeus, and Sylphy were assigned to the third carriage. The original servants were moved to the fourth to look after the luggage.
Philip suggested assigning the maid from the fourth carriage to serve Allen's group during the journey.
Rudeus, staring longingly, looked as though he were about to cry.
But the Iron-Blooded Son of Boreas rejected the idea righteously and without hesitation.
What leader would succumb to such temptation?
What kind of joke is that?
That said—things didn't go entirely to plan when boarding.
Allen headed toward the third carriage. Sylphy followed close behind, head lowered, her pale hair swaying in front of her face. She didn't look at the road—just her feet—taking cautious steps after him.
One by one, they climbed in.
Rudeus followed too. But just as he was about to lift his leg—
A flash of red barreled into him from the side, slamming him off balance with a shoulder check. Before he could even get angry, a cat-eared maid appeared at his side.
She smiled warmly, patted his head, and gently guided him up into the second carriage.
Softly, she told him there were sweets on the table inside—he should help himself.
Then, she closed the door with delicate care.
As the carriages began to rumble forward, and Paul, Zenith, and Lilia's farewells echoed outside—along with Aisha's howling sobs—
Rudeus numbly raised a hand in farewell.
Then turned toward the carriage interior.
Empty.
It was only then that he snapped out of his daze.
"??"
"Why am I in this one??"
...
In the third carriage, Miss Eris sat brimming with energy, her fiery red brows twitching, arms crossed, legs bouncing—every movement radiating pride.
Allen stared at her in a daze, at a complete loss for words.
Beside him, the cat-eared maid smiled demurely, poised and composed, her tail swaying at her side.
Eris fixed her eyes on Sylphy across from her, sizing up the teacher she'd personally chosen.
It was her first time picking a tutor on her own.
The young lady was quite pleased with herself.
And Sylphy?
The carriage rocked gently.
Two people sat on each side.
Sylphy's leg brushed lightly against Allen's.
She stared at the point of contact, her face still flushed from what had happened upstairs.
A memory stirred, echoing from the past—
A single sentence.
A sentence Allen had once said to Rudeus, though it had been about his own teacher, Roxy.
"Because I'm sure we'll meet again, I can remain calm."
So that's what had kept Allen so composed all afternoon.
What was the reason?
Because he was certain—
That he would take her with him to Roa.
That's why he was calm.
Was the rain outside the carriage cold?
Yes.
Was Allen's knee warm?
Yes.
And her heart?
It was burning.
So hot, Sylphy felt like she might melt.
...
Rain poured in torrents.
Ten kilometers south of Buena Village.
In the forest, amid the downpour—
Someone opened their eyes.
"Let's see…"
"...Can't quite keep track of time, but it should be about now."
"Allen…"