Castorice looked into Phaethon's resolute, unflinching eyes. There was no bloodthirsty fervor within them, only a rock-solid certainty.
After a long moment, she too let out a soft, long sigh. Her tightly-wound fingers, which had seemed to be twisting all her unease into nothing, finally slowly relaxed and fell to her sides.
"Very well, Lord Phaethon..." Her voice held a trace of weary acceptance. "As you said, I... will respect your choice. Even if I cannot fully agree with it."
She turned slightly, lifting her head to gaze at the bright moon hanging in the pitch-black night sky.
The clear moonlight cascaded down, flowing gently over the pale, delicate curve of her cheek, outlining its soft contours and illuminating the profound, ineffable sorrow and determination deep within her eyes.
"But I understand the fragility and preciousness of life more than anyone..."
Her voice was as light as a dream, carrying a loneliness that seemed to emanate from the depths of her soul,
"As a Daughter of the Styx, I have seen too many fading souls, felt too much irrevocable coldness."
"Life... it is as beautiful as this moonlight, but it is also that precious, fleeting hue that these hands of mine... no matter how hard I try to grasp it, can never hold onto."
She paused for a moment before continuing slowly, her voice now tinged with sincerity:
"I agree with your fundamental point, Lord Phaethon—those who do wrong should indeed pay a price. That is the universal principle."
"It's just..." She shook her head slightly, the moonlight dancing on her violet hair,
"I have always believed that life itself should not become that final, cold weight placed upon the scales to balance out sin."
...
When Phaethon pushed the door open and returned inside, Cyrene was excitedly discussing something with Tribbie.
Seeing Phaethon enter, Cyrene rushed over excitedly and crashed into his arms. If Castorice hadn't been standing behind him, Phaethon would have been forced back several steps to absorb the impact.
"Little Phaethon, little Phaethon! Praise me! I've perfected 'Oronyx Prayer' to the point where it can recreate conversations between several figures!" Cyrene was ecstatic.
"So heavy... Cyrene, you... wait? You said your 'Recollection' had a breakthrough?" Phaethon, who had been about to tease her, immediately caught the latter part of her sentence.
"Of course! And with Teacher Tribbie's help, I can now even recreate deaths from others' memories!" Cyrene had clearly only heard the second half of what Phaethon said.
"Recreate deaths from memories? You mean..." Phaethon couldn't help but glance at Tribbie and Trianne.
"Exactly what you're thinking! But, Teacher Tribbie said it's best not to say it out loud in front of Trianne." Cyrene's voice suddenly dropped.
"Mn." Phaethon was so excited he nearly picked Cyrene up. *There are Nine hundred and ninety-seven Teacher Tribios!* (note: the ones that are dead)
Given the nature of that Golden Finger, he'd definitely be able to open the Gate of Infinity freely in the future! And Trianne... wait? Would he have to name nine hundred and ninety-seven Tri-□s?
...
Late at night, in Phaethon's room.
Under the dim glow of the magic lamp, Cyrene, moving like a marionette about to fall apart, wobbled and tossed another faintly glowing purple octahedron—a "Memory Shard"—onto the small mountain of crystal clusters already piled high on Phaethon's bed.
"Yawwwwn..." Cyrene's eyelids were so heavy they seemed glued together, her voice thick with sleep and slurred,
"Is this the... the how manieth one? Li...ttle Phaethon~?" She could barely sit upright, her body leaning forward slightly.
Phaethon's gaze moved from the crystal mountain to Cyrene's exhausted state. His heart was full of both gratitude and heartache.
But the excited smile on his face was unstoppable: "The nine hundred and ninety-fifth! Cyrene, you're amazing! You've really worked hard!"
He stepped forward quickly, wanting to help her sit. "Tomorrow! When we return to Okhema with Tribbie and the others tomorrow, what do you want to eat? I'll make you anything!"
"Yawwwwn... Phaethon, are you... confused?" Cyrene forced out another shard and tossed it over, nearly toppling over in the process,
"There's no way... we'll reach Okhema... tomorrow? It'll still take... Yawwwwn... several days..." Her voice trailed off.
*Cyrene's condition... is terrible. She can barely even think straight anymore.* Phaethon watched her nearly unfocused eyes with internal alarm.
And this was with him layering her with [Stamina Boost], [Calm Mind], [Vitality Aura]... a whole dozen supportive spells!
Without these, she'd probably have collapsed unconscious on my floor after just a few dozen shards, right?
Another memory shard landed on the bed. Cyrene's hand mechanically grasped at the empty air out of habit, trying to form the next one, but caught nothing.
She blinked slowly, taking several seconds to process. "Ah... n-no more? Little Phaethon~... no more?"
She wobbled as she tried to stand, but her body went limp. "Yawwwwn... I'm... going to sleep?"
"Careful!" Phaethon moved swiftly, catching her as she almost collapsed. Her full weight rested on his arm, but she seemed unaware, her head nodding, consciousness long gone.
"Cyrene, you're in no state to walk. I'll take you to your room." Phaethon steadied her, carefully guiding her towards the door.
"No... need..." Cyrene's voice was indistinct, like sleep-talking. "I... can manage... Zzzzz..." Before she even finished, soft snores escaped her. She was completely asleep, leaning against Phaethon's shoulder.
Phaethon sighed, half-carrying Cyrene back to her room, which resembled an "academic fortress" piled high with heavy tomes, scrolls, and strange instruments.
He gently settled her into the soft bedding, carefully tucking the covers around her, then silently recited incantations, casting a few gentle [Sleep] and [Soothe] spells.
After completing this, he quietly slipped out, softly closing the door behind him.
…
In the corridor
Just after closing Cyrene's door, Phaethon turned and almost bumped into the purple-haired girl standing in the shadows of the hallway.
"Lord Phaethon?" Castorice's voice held a note of surprise and inquiry, her gaze shifting between the closed door and Phaethon. "You are...?"
"Miss Castorice?" Phaethon was also slightly surprised but immediately lowered his voice. "Shh—keep it down."
"Cyrene just helped me with a huge task. She's exhausted and fell asleep. Don't wake her." He explained frankly, his tone calm.
*Are you kidding me? Even if I had done something, I could be this candid, let alone when I haven't done anything at all?*
"If there's nothing else, I'll return to my room?" Phaethon nodded at Castorice, but his mind had already flown back to that purple mountain of memory shards in his room.
*Nine hundred and ninety-seven Teacher Tribios!* He could almost feel the shards calling to him.
As for Castorice here? She's truly beautiful, and her aura is unique, Daughter of the Styx and all...
But no matter how beautiful, could she compare to the importance of analyzing these shards containing Teacher Tribios's power and memories? Could she compare to the skill of preventing little Trianne from disappearing?
Even if my charm is off the charts right now, and a few words from me make her fall for me—forgetting that she's lived for centuries and seen it all—even if she did develop some 'rejuvenated maiden's heart' and take a liking to me... then the question arises!
Would you dare to touch her? Huh? Would she dare to touch you? Huh? Answer me! LOOK INTO MY EYES! TELL ME WHY?