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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 154: The Youngest Disciple (6)

Chapter 154: The Youngest Disciple (6)

When​ the workers who​⁠⁠ had finished their‌⁠‌ shift left and​​⁠ only the construction‍⁠ site with the⁠‌‍ civil works remained,‍ a strange atmosphere‍ formed as one‍ walked through the‌‌‌ place.

The​ setting sun stretched‍‍ the shadows and,​⁠⁠ in a world⁠⁠‌ dyed red, only⁠‍ the half-built buildings⁠ remained.

As⁠⁠ he walked there​‌‍ with Aiselin to⁠ check the progress,​ Dereck suddenly noticed‍ that the temperature‍‍ had dropped a little.

“It’s​ cold. You should​ go inside.”

“No,‌⁠ we’re almost done.​‍ There are quite‍⁠​ a few deficient​‍ details in the‌‌​ finishes of the‍⁠‍ auditorium. Since the‍⁠‌ budget is a bit tight, I think it would‍‌‌ be better to‍⁠ reinforce the quality‌‍ even if that​‍ means reducing the‌⁠ scale of the​​ inner courtyard a little.”

Aiselin,⁠‌ letting out visible‍ breaths of vapor‌ with every exhale,‌ still said everything​‍ she needed to⁠‌ say with consistency.‍⁠⁠

Dereck‌⁠‌ watched her in​⁠ silence and narrowed⁠‍ his eyes slightly.‌

Although⁠ it wasn’t unusual⁠​‍ for him to‍​ look at her​ like that, whenever‌ he did it⁠⁠ always felt a bit uncomfortable, so​​‌ Aiselin showed a somewhat embarrassed expression.⁠

“D-…⁠ do you have⁠ something to tell‍⁠‍ me?”

“No.⁠ Nothing in particular—just​ that, upon entering‍​ and leaving the​‍ Duplain territory again⁠​ after so long,‌‌⁠ I suppose I’m‌ getting a bit⁠ sentimental.”

Hearing​​⁠ something like that‍​‍ come from Dereck’s‍⁠‍ mouth—someone who was‍ far from an​‌ emotional person—Aiselin couldn’t‌⁠‍ help but tilt⁠‌‌ her head in‍​ confusion.

Dereck‌‍ lightly shook his​ white hair and⁠​‍ began walking, leaving​​‌ the area where​ the wooden frames​‌ filled the construction‌‍ site.

The​​‍ creaking of the‍‍ beams echoed in‍​ the empty space.‌​‌

“I‌ thought Lady Aiselin‌ has also changed​​ a lot since​‍ the first time‌‌​ I saw you.”⁠

“Now⁠‍‌ that you mention‌⁠‍ it—when you brought⁠ me to the⁠‍ territory the first‍‌ time, that’s when​‌‌ we met. How​‍ much you struggled‌ looking for a master for Diella…”⁠‍

“It’s‍​ been quite a while. And to‍ think that back⁠⁠ then I didn’t⁠ imagine we would‌⁠⁠ see each other‍‌​ for so long.”‍​‍

Before​‌ meeting Aiselin, Dereck‍ had been nothing​ more than a low-class mercenary from⁠​‍ the outskirts, with‍‌‌ no contact with​​ nobles whatsoever.

Since‌⁠‍ then many years​ had passed, and‍​‌ both he and​ Aiselin had gone⁠ through great changes‌ in their lives.​‌

Dereck​‌ had kept rising‍⁠ without rest, never​ settling, always dreaming‌​‍ of greater heights.‍‌

Aiselin​ had fallen all‌ the way down,‌ only to push​‍ herself back up‌ again.

When⁠⁠ someone has experienced​⁠‍ both the ground‍‍ and the clouds,​ the ups and​‍​ downs of life⁠⁠ feel natural.

Becoming​ accustomed to trials​ can be something⁠ good. But when⁠​‌ one looks only‍‌‌ upward, sometimes something⁠⁠‌ is forgotten.

“I‌ thought we’ve come⁠⁠ very far. Simply‍⁠ seeing you, that​ thought came to‍⁠ me.”

“…?”​⁠

Aiselin‌ looked at him,‌⁠‌ tilting her head.‌‍

She⁠ couldn’t add anything‍‍ about the life​​ of the boy‍ who had ascended⁠⁠ fighting from the‍⁠ very bottom.

However,‍‍​ Dereck felt a strange affinity with⁠⁠‍ her. Aiselin was​​ the opposite of‍ him—expressive, elegant, noble,​ refined—and yet, at‍‍​ their core, they⁠​‌ were similar.

Both⁠‌​ possessed the attitude⁠ held only by​‌ those who, after‌‍‌ being thrown to​ the bottom, know⁠‌‌ how to roll​‌⁠ up their sleeves‍ and rise on‌‌ their own. That‌ grit. That will.​‌‌

Seeing​ her, Dereck remembered⁠ the hard, cold⁠​⁠ chunks of bread​ he used to⁠ eat in a corner of the​‍⁠ poor district.

As‍⁠ they left the⁠‍​ auditorium site, they​‌ saw the sun​⁠ sinking into the​‍‍ western sky.

By‍ the length of​‍⁠ the shadows, night​​​ was near.

Thinking⁠ it would be‌​‌ better to return‍ to the mansion‍‍ before it got‌​‍ dark, Dereck looked‍​ at Aiselin, gently‌‍ closed his eyes,⁠​ and added.

“The​⁠ Ravenclaw family is​‍ beginning to be‍‌ mentioned among the‌‌​ high nobility of⁠⁠‌ the center of⁠⁠‌ the continent. I have reached the⁠⁠ rank of 4 stars myself, we‌⁠‍ are about to‌‌​ establish the academy,‍​‌ and in the​ society of Ebelstein‍ I’m already quite‍​ recognized. Compared to​​ when I first⁠‍‌ saw you, I have risen a lot.”

“Well,⁠​‌ the truth is‌‌‍ that even back⁠ then I thought⁠‌ you were someone‍​‍ extraordinary. Do you​​⁠ remember when we‌‌⁠ were in the‍⁠​ carriage and you​‌ showed me different‌ ways of using​‍​ magic? I had‍‌ a feeling then.​‍‌ That you would‍ rise, one way‌⁠⁠ or another.”

“When​‌‌ one rises, there‍ comes a moment​​ when one has⁠⁠ to look back.”‍⁠⁠

Dereck‍‍⁠ wanted to reach‍‌​ the highest and​ brightest star in​‌ the night sky.​‍​

When‌‍‍ someone rises that⁠‍⁠ much, their gaze⁠​ gets fixed upwards‌‌​ and no longer‍‍‌ wants to move.​‍

But⁠‌ there always comes‌‌‌ a moment when​‌ one must walk‌‌ again the path‌​​ that led them⁠‌ there.

“And‌‌‍ thinking about it,‍‍‍ I realize that⁠ my journey began⁠​ the moment I came into contact‌⁠ with the Duplain‍​ family.”

“…”​​

“That’s‌⁠ why, I suppose‍ it was impossible‍‌⁠ for me to‌ just stand by⁠​‌ and watch the​‍ decline of the⁠‌‌ Duplain family. Though​ of course, I don’t intend to‍⁠‍ go around saying‌​‍ it.”

Aiselin‌‌ watched him in​​ silence as he‍ spoke, looking at​‍‌ the darkening sky.⁠​‌

That⁠‌ cold, tearless mercenary‌ rarely showed sentimentality.‌‌⁠

Hearing​​ him say those⁠‍​ things in front⁠​​ of her made‌‍​ her happy, but⁠‌ she also felt​ there was a deeper meaning hidden‌⁠​ there.

“I‌​‍ wanted to thank‌‍​ you for being​​ the reason I was able to⁠ enter the world‍⁠ of the nobility.‍⁠ That’s all.”

“…”‌‌‍

That‌ Dereck expressed gratitude⁠⁠ out of courtesy⁠​​ was common. But‌‌ under the light​‌​ of dusk, his​​⁠ words carried a different weight, one‌ unrelated to noble⁠⁠ formalities.

Aiselin⁠‍⁠ wondered how to‍ respond, but ended​​‍ up simply smiling.‌​⁠ Then she lifted‍​⁠ her gaze toward⁠‌ the same sky​ he was looking‌‌ at.

From⁠‍‌ the east, a dark tone was‌ beginning to cover​⁠⁠ the red in​‍ the sky. Darkness‌ symbolizes fear and‌​‌ terror, but when‌ the light of‌⁠ the moon gently‌⁠⁠ mixes in, sometimes‌⁠‍ it feels surprisingly‌‌ comforting.

The⁠ presence of a source of light⁠ can make even​ the darkness feel‍‍ warm.

When‍⁠ Aiselin had been⁠‌ sunk in her​⁠ own darkness, she⁠​ must have been‌ able to lift​ her head and​ smile because that​​‌ light accompanied her​​ from behind.

Dereck’s‍ white hair, though⁠ it didn’t literally⁠‌ shine, reflected the​​ moonlight and emitted​‌ a soft glow.⁠​​

The​ moon shines thanks​ to the light⁠​⁠ of the sun;​ Dereck is not‍‌ much different.

Aiselin​ smiled upon seeing‌⁠ that and watched​​⁠ the tiny crystals​‍ that were beginning⁠‌ to fall from‍‌‌ the sky.

“It’s⁠​ snowing. Tomorrow will​‍ be a little⁠ warmer.”

The‍ wooden skeletons of‌ the place, solitary⁠​ and gloomy, began⁠ to slowly be‌‌‌ covered with snow.​

It⁠ was a warm​ winter.

***‍​‌

It‌ is a cold⁠ winter that cuts⁠​ the breath. If‌ you let your⁠⁠⁠ guard down, it‌ was clear you‌‍ would freeze to‌‌​ death.

Fwaaah!​‌

The​​​ place where Siern‌‌​ reigned seemed to‌⁠ turn into the​‍​ icy snow plains‌⁠ of the north.‍‍​

Siern’s‌ magic, having already⁠‍​ reached the level⁠⁠‌ of 3 stars⁠ in conversion magic,​‍ had reached a level capable of‌​ freezing all the‌ air around her.‍‌​

Three-star‌‌ magic, Freezing.

The⁠ hair whipping around‍​ due to the‍ magic covered her⁠⁠⁠ face, making it‌⁠ impossible to see‌ her expression clearly.‌

The​‌ figure of the‌ young woman, steady⁠‍ even within the‌⁠ wind that lashed‍ about, was as‍​⁠ if that wild‌‍⁠ era in which‌​ she stood barefoot‌⁠ on the frozen‍⁠ steppe was being⁠⁠⁠ recreated.

Between⁠‍ the strands of​ wind-tossed hair you​ could see a pair of eyes⁠​​ so cold they‍​​ sent chills down‌‌ the spine. The⁠‍ moment you met⁠ that gaze, it⁠⁠‌ felt as if⁠​‍ your whole body‍‌​ became frozen solid.​‍

If​⁠​ that sensation had​‍ to be defined‍​ with a single‌ word, it would​‌ be killing intent.‌‍

Crackle!‍‍‍ Crackle!!

The⁠ dueling field was​‍‌ not only completely⁠ frozen by the‌⁠‌ freezing magic, but‍​‌ even the protective‌⁠ barriers surrounding it‌‌ became iced over.‌​

The​‍​ magical shockwave extended⁠ beyond the stands,​​ affecting the entire​ field the stained-glass‌‌ windows of the‌ outer walls and‌ even the chandeliers‍⁠ on the ceiling​​​ were completely frozen.​⁠‌

“Hiiiiiiiik—!”​

Trisha’s‌⁠⁠ feet were also​‍ stuck to the‍‍ ground, frozen. The⁠ freezing wave was⁠ already climbing up​‌ to her thighs,​ preventing her from⁠​ moving her body.‍⁠‌

Not‍⁠ even ten seconds‌ had passed since‌​⁠ the battle began.‌

It​ was the exact‍‍ moment to surrender.‍

By⁠ looking into the⁠‌ eyes of that⁠ girl, the youngest‌⁠ disciple of the‍⁠ Ravenclaw lineage, anyone‌⁠ could tell.

That‍‍ small girl with‌‍ a short stature‍ knew perfectly well‍⁠ how to kill⁠‌ someone.

And⁠​​ she had absolutely​‍ no problem doing⁠ it.

The​‌​ extreme fear crawled‌⁠ over her skin.​‍​

This⁠ was not a moment to be‌​ discussing whether she‍ could or couldn’t⁠‌ enter as a disciple of the​ Ravenclaw lineage.

Diella,⁠‌‌ Ellen, Denise, Siern—believing‍‌​ she could stand‍‌‌ shoulder to shoulder‌​ with those figures​​ that shone like⁠ constellations had been​ an act of‍ arrogance.

If‍⁠ the price for‍ that arrogance was​‍‍ her life, it‍‍​ wasn’t worth it⁠​‌ at all.

It‍ was time to⁠​ cancel the deal‌ and run away.‌

Fwiiiiing!‍​​

“Ugh…‍‌ Lady Siern…!”

Ellen,‌‌ who was watching​ from the stands,‌‍ frowned as she⁠ endured the magical‌‍​ pressure. If it⁠ looked like something⁠⁠ was truly about‌‍⁠ to go wrong,⁠​​ she planned to​ intervene immediately; her‍ body was already‌​‍ half-lifted.

Diella,⁠‍‍ sitting on the‌‍​ other side, also‌ tensed in her‌ seat as she‍‌ brushed aside the​‍​ hair the wind​‌⁠ was blowing.

The‍​‍ other young noble​⁠⁠ ladies were already​‍⁠ being protected by‍​​ their escorts.

Even‌​​ someone with no‌⁠ knowledge of magic⁠​‍ could understand.

That​ creature was no‍​ longer on a level that young‍‌⁠ nobles who were⁠​ barely learning magic⁠‍‌ could face.

She‍ was someone who​‍⁠ needed to be⁠ restrained by a high-rank veteran mage⁠ to prevent serious⁠⁠ damage.

The‍ fear peeled the‌​ skin as if‌‍ tearing it layer‌‌ by layer.

In‌​⁠ the midst of​‍ that horrifying sensation,‍‍​ Trisha thought.

This‌​ is definitely it.​‍‌

When‍ she was about‍ to declare her​ surrender, she saw‍​ a fist of​​‌ an old man‍⁠​ piercing through the‍​ darkness.

A fist that stopped‌ right in front‍ of her.

Completely‍ firm, not showing‍‍‌ a single moment​⁠ of weakness.

A familiar illusion.

Hutton’s‍ fist had never‌ lost strength. He‍​ had lived clenching‌‍‍ his fists against‍‍‌ the world, never‍‍‍ letting go.

And‌‍ now, that fist‌⁠‌ extended toward the‌ young Trisha seemed‌⁠ to still be⁠‌ there.

Behind‌​⁠ the fist, her‍‍ father’s voice seemed​ to be heard.‍‍

‘Even‌⁠‍ if the entire⁠‍ world plays on⁠‌ top of your⁠‌ head, never give⁠ in, Trisha.’

Was‌​ it even reasonable‍ to enter as‍‌ a disciple in⁠⁠​ the Ravenclaw lineage,​​‌ where figures like⁠ Diella, Ellen, and‌ Siern clashed and‌‌‍ competed?

She‌‌ knew well that,‍‍ without a special⁠‌ talent, an average​ person among geniuses​‍‌ would only end​‌ up shattered.

Even​​ so, Trisha’s lips​‌ would not open.​‌

And‌⁠ the sound that⁠ finally rose through⁠ her throat was—​

The⁠ chant of a fire spell.

Fwaaah!​

Combat‍⁠ magic of 1 star, Fire Arrow.​

The‍ only level-1 spell⁠ she had managed​⁠ to master after‍ shutting herself in​ her room for​​⁠ months, she used​‍⁠ it to melt​⁠‌ the ice holding​‌‌ her legs.

Crunch!⁠

“Kyaaah!”‍

She‌ barely controlled it;‍ she still couldn’t‌⁠ adjust her magic​‍⁠ properly. The power‍‍⁠ was greater than‍‌‌ she expected and​‌ she ended up‌ burning her own⁠‍‍ thigh.

But⁠‌ even so, she‌​⁠ recovered her freedom​ to move.

Crackle!‌​

¡Fwack!‍‌

Trisha​ tried to run,‌‌ but slipped violently​‍ on the ice-covered​ floor. She stepped‌⁠​ on her own‍‌‍ dress and a tearing sound echoed.‌

“Kyaah..!‌​​ Huff… huff…”

At⁠‌‌ least now she⁠⁠‍ was far from⁠‍ Siern.

Three-star⁠⁠ spells consumed a tremendous amount of​‌ mana. Even Siern‌‌ would need a few seconds to⁠​‌ prepare the next⁠ one.

It‌ was her chance‍ to think of⁠ something.

Fwaaah.​

Conversion⁠‍ magic of 3 stars, Acceleration.

Seeing⁠​ Siern move with‍⁠ a speed that‍‌​ seemed to skip​ the flow of​‌‍ time, the young​⁠‍ noble ladies in‍​‌ the stands gaped.‌⁠

Moving⁠‌ lightly, like a rabbit hopping through‍⁠​ the snow, but​ several times faster.‌

Trisha​‌ barely blinked, and‌‍‍ when she opened‌​ her eyes, Siern’s‌‍​ face was already‌‌ right in front​‌ of hers.

In‍​‍ her entire life,⁠‍‍ only two people⁠ had managed to⁠⁠ counter that speed.⁠‍‌

Her‌‌ father, Melverot.

And‌ her master, Dereck.⁠​‍

Facing​ acceleration magic felt⁠ like the enemy⁠​⁠ was jumping through‍⁠⁠ space itself.

Trisha‍ had barely blinked,‍ and she already⁠ felt Siern’s breath‌ on her face.‌

There⁠⁠ was no way‌​​ to react.

Siern’s‌‍ magic and Trisha’s⁠‍ were from different‍⁠ worlds.

And⁠⁠ the killing intent​‍​ in those eyes‌​ was still there.‍‍

Only‌​‍ one image remained‍ death.

Just​ when Trisha felt​‍ her breath stop—‍​

Fwaaah!​⁠‍

Whack!​​‍

At‌‍‍ the instant the‍‌‌ 1-star ice spear‍⁠ struck Trisha’s forehead,⁠⁠ the previously prepared⁠⁠ protective barrier activated.‌

It‌ was a defensive‍‌ spell that nullified‍‍ fatal damage and​​‍ decided the result‌ of the duel.‌‍‍

Whaam!​​

The​‍ spear that would‌‌ have blown off‍‌ Trisha’s head vanished,⁠​ and all the⁠ barriers around the‍ field also faded.⁠⁠

The‌⁠‌ duel was over.‍

The⁠⁠ winner—Siern.

It‍⁠ didn’t last even‍‌⁠ a minute.

“No‌‌​ good.”

Siern‍‍ murmured something incomprehensible‍ while flicking the‍‍ edge of her⁠‌ dress. She looked​‍ coldly at Trisha‍​ lying on the⁠​ floor, and then⁠‍⁠ turned around to‌​ leave.

The‌⁠​ result was obvious.⁠‌⁠

There⁠‍‌ was no miracle‍​ where Trisha could⁠​ defeat Siern.

‘No‍‍ good.’

The⁠‌ phrase Siern murmured‍ with cold eyes.⁠⁠⁠

What​‍⁠ did it mean?‌‍

That‍ Trisha couldn’t beat⁠​ her?

Anyone​‍ could interpret it‍‌‌ that way.

But​​ Trisha, who had‍⁠ been closer than‍ anyone to Siern‍‌ at that instant,‌⁠ understood its exact‌​​ meaning.

“Huff…‍​⁠ huff… huff… ku-heok…​​ cough! cough! kuh-heok!”⁠​‍

Unwanted⁠‍​ tears gathered. She​‍ felt her chest⁠‍​ trembling as she‍​ lay on the‍‍‌ frozen field.

The​⁠ spear that pierced‍‌‌ her forehead at‍⁠⁠ the end had‌‌ not been thrown‌ trusting the barrier.‍⁠‍

Siern,⁠‍ as always, had​ delivered an instinctive​​‌ strike with the‍ clear intention to‍​‍ kill.

Only⁠​ the barrier had​⁠‌ prevented death.

That’s​‍⁠ why Siern’s “No​‍ good” carried a terrifying meaning.

The​ wild girl still‌‌⁠ saw the duel‌ as a fight⁠​‌ to the death.⁠​​

She‍‌‍ had attacked to‌ kill.

She‍⁠ had tried to​‌​ kill.

She⁠ simply hadn’t succeeded.​

If‍⁠‌ that last blow‌​‍ had been strong‌⁠ enough to ignore⁠‍‍ the barrier— Trisha’s⁠‍ head would have​ flown.

The‍‍ fear of returning‍ from the brink‍ of death made​‌‍ her entire body⁠ tremble.

Seeing​⁠‍ Siern leave the⁠ field with total‌ calm, as if‍ she had never‍‍⁠ shown killing intent—​‌

It‍​​ made her vision‍ shake.

Ellen‌‌‌ let out a deep sigh.

Diella⁠‍‍ also sighed and​‍‍ stood up.

In‍ the end, this‌⁠ was all, they⁠ thought.

Although‍ none of them​ could defeat Siern,‌⁠‌ they at least‌⁠‍ expected to see‍‌ some attempt at​ resistance.

But​​ Trisha couldn’t even‍‍⁠ do that.

She‍ couldn’t land a single counterattack.

It‍‌ was normal.

Trisha‌‌ was someone ordinary.‌⁠‍

Siern‍​ was a genius‌​‌ blessed by the‍​ heavens.

A natural result.

One⁠ simply had to⁠⁠ accept it.

“Well,‌⁠​ the result is⁠​ decided, so I’ll​ take care of​⁠‍ the scheduling for‍ the next meeting⁠ he—”

“Once‍‍ more.”

Trisha‌ spoke, stopping Siern​‌‍ just when she⁠​ yawned and left​‌​ the field.

Her‌​⁠ mouth moved before⁠‌ her thoughts.

“What?”‌‍‌

“L-Lady⁠ Diella didn’t say​‌‌ anything about limits…⁠ right…?”

Trisha’s⁠‍ appearance was miserable.​ Torn dress, burned​⁠ thigh, cold sweat‍⁠​ and tears on⁠‍ her face, her‍⁠⁠ throat trembling, her‌​ skin bristling.

But⁠ even so, she‌‌​ forced an arrogant​ smile.

Because‌‍ that was how​⁠⁠ she had been‌⁠ taught to live.⁠‌‌

“A​⁠ moment ago I was just a little surprised… Yes…‌⁠ That’s right. Lady⁠‌⁠ Siern’s magic is…‌‌ unimaginable. But…! If‍ we do it‍​​ again, it will​​ be different!”

Siern⁠‍⁠ glanced at Diella‍​ in the stands.⁠

Diella⁠ frowned, crossed her‌ arms, and finally‌ nodded.

Seeing‍ that, Siern let​⁠ out a long‍‍ sigh.

Bang!‌

The‍​‍ next duel ended​ in fifteen seconds.​​‍

Siern’s‍⁠‍ combat magic, Shockwave,‌​⁠ was too strong‍ for Trisha.

Bang!⁠‍‌

Crack!‌‍

Thud!‌⁠

The‍ third duel also‍​ ended with Trisha‍‍ flying through the⁠‍‌ air.

In‍ the fourth, simply‍‌ by squeezing the‍‍ air with mana,‍ Siern made Trisha’s​‌‍ legs give out.‌‌‌

The⁠ fifth, sixth, seventh.‌‍‌

Bang!⁠‍‌

Fwaaak!‍⁠‍

Boom!‍‌‌

Boom!‌⁠‌

Bang!⁠‍‌

Rumble!‌‌‌

By‌‌ the time the‌‌⁠ eleventh duel came,‌ many young noble‌‍ ladies had already⁠ left.

Whoosh,​ fwoosh.

Through‍‍ the rising dust,⁠ Trisha appeared in⁠‍ tatters.

Even​ Siern was sweating⁠​​ a little.

Even⁠⁠ so, Trisha stood‍⁠ up however she​‌ could, eyes bloodshot.⁠⁠⁠

She‍ no longer had‌ the strength to‍​‍ speak long.

“Again.”‌‌

The‌ ferocity in that⁠ gaze resembled none‍ of the other​‍ disciples’.

There‍ were people who,‌ even knowing that​‍​ smashing their head​ against a steel​​ wall would only​‌ break it, did⁠ it their whole‍⁠⁠ lives.

Stubborn,​ foolish people.

Boom,‌ bang!

The⁠‌ sun set, and​‍‍ night fell over‌⁠​ Elfontaine Hall.

In‌​‍ the thirty-seventh duel,​​⁠ the moonlight entered​ between the stained-glass‌ windows.

Crack!​⁠

Bang!⁠⁠

Boom!⁠‌‍

Trisha,⁠⁠⁠ destroyed, stood up⁠‍ again and looked⁠ at Siern with⁠ eyes full of​‌ ferocity.

At⁠ that moment, only⁠‍‌ two people remained⁠⁠ in the stands—Diella⁠⁠⁠ and Ellen.

“…”‌​

A line of sweat‌ ran down both‍​‌ of their cheeks.⁠

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