Over the past few months, Roy had scarcely let go of his sword. Calluses had formed across his palms—rough and warm—utterly unlike Riveria's soft, boneless, porcelain-white hand.
But that was not the important part.
Through their physical contact, Riveria faintly sensed something within Roy—
a peculiar spiritual current akin to that emitted by the royal bloodline of the elves.
"Is it merely my imagination?"
Riveria's noble brows knit together as she silently resolved to confirm it.
Roy, however, was unaware of her complicated thoughts. He was immersed in the joy of acquiring new magic.
Just as Riveria had guessed, his true expectation had been to learn only two spells.
To spar once with Ais Wallenstein and expect to obtain all of Riveria's magic? That would be madness. Even Roy was not that confident.
Rea Laevateinn—though a short-chant defensive spell—boasted rapid activation and excellent effectiveness.
It enhanced both physical and magical resistance, forming a radiant garment of light around its target. The effect lasted for a period of time.
Comprehensive protection.
Freedom of movement.
No being anchored in place like certain defensive barriers.
Flexibility alone made this spell vastly superior.
Riveria asked, "Well?"
Roy smiled confidently.
"Gather, O breath of the earth—my name is Alf!"
As his chant concluded, the spiritual energy within his body converted into magical power and activated the spell. A multicolored mantle of light enveloped both Roy and Riveria.
Riveria's emerald eyes contracted sharply.
Her delicate face revealed disbelief.
He truly learned it?
Watching someone else cast her own magic felt strangely surreal.
This also confirmed the authenticity of Roy's skill.
Terrifying.
At that moment, Riveria understood why the gods had once shouted in excitement about a "miracle of the Lower World."
Outwardly maintaining her usual decisive composure, she declared, "Let us proceed with the second spell."
Roy glanced at her oddly. Why did she seem even more impatient than he was?
Riveria began her chant:
"Dance, O spirits of the air, sovereign of light. I form a pact with the guardian deity of the forest—
let the song of the earth resound and cloak us.
Protect us—
I beseech thee, become a towering wall of forest light and guard us—
my name is Alf!"
Dimension: Severance.
When Riveria completed the incantation, a hemispherical barrier of light formed around them, enclosing the space entirely.
Roy gazed at the thin, almost paper-like dome, his expression turning solemn.
Even if he unleashed the Spirit Holy Sword at full power, he doubted he could break this spell.
Riveria's strongest defensive magic.
A barrier that resisted both physical and magical attacks, completely isolating the interior from the outside world.
Within Orario, only a handful of individuals could shatter such a shield.
Still holding her hand, Roy sensed the flow of magic within Riveria's body. The sequence engraved itself deeply into his mind.
When he opened his eyes again, confidence shone across his face.
"...Protect us—
I beseech thee, become a towering wall of forest light and guard us—
my name is Alf!"
Dimension: Severance.
As Roy's chant concluded, a new barrier formed around them.
Inferior to Riveria's version, certainly—
but still possessing formidable defensive strength.
The pinnacle of defensive magic—acquired.
During this process, Riveria also grew more certain of the peculiar spiritual presence within Roy.
The sensation of shared blood grew increasingly distinct.
Under his influence, her blood seemed to heat, as though stirred by a hidden resonance.
Riveria stared at Roy in astonishment.
Could he be a mixed descendant of elven royalty?
Yet she had never heard of any elven royal marrying an outsider and bearing a child.
If such a scandal had occurred, the entire elven race would have erupted in outrage. There would have been no way to conceal it.
Roy displayed none of the visible traits of a half-elf. If royal blood truly ran through him, it must have been diluted across dozens of generations.
The sudden appearance of a human carrying elven royal lineage was enough to give even Riveria a headache.
What in the world was this situation?
But one thing was certain.
Other elves must never learn of this.
Given the reverence elves held for the royal line—and considering her father, King Lafarl's rigid temperament—if they discovered Roy's existence as an "aberration," they would undoubtedly dispatch every elven warrior to eradicate him.
Riveria's gaze toward Roy grew more complicated.
Fortunately, the one who discovered him was her.
Lost in thought, Riveria even forgot to withdraw her hand.
Roy, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying the contact.
Her hand was even softer than Ryuu's—cool and supple like polished jade.
Ryuu, who constantly wielded a sword, had hands that were soft yet firm, carrying a sense of steady reassurance.
Riveria, as a rear-line mage who rarely charged into battle, possessed hands so delicate they seemed boneless. Beneath her snow-like skin, one could almost glimpse faint veins.
Different paths. Different charms.
Roy suddenly noticed the shift in Riveria's gaze and felt a flicker of guilt.
Had she discovered him taking advantage?
But as the saying went—
to act is beastly, yet not to act is worse.
Riveria's tone softened noticeably.
"Justice's Sprout… this may be somewhat impolite, but do you have any family remaining?"
"They're all gone. When I was three, monsters in the deep mountains devoured them," Roy replied casually.
A trace of tenderness and pity flickered through Riveria's emerald eyes.
So he had grown up alone.
He must have endured countless hardships.
How pitiful.
"…Ah."
Riveria sighed faintly.
Compared to him, she had spent seventy peaceful years sheltered in the forest under the protection of her father, King Lafarl.
Later, seeking to explore the unknown world, she departed the forest alongside Loki and Finn.
Though she did not regret it, seeing Roy allowed her to better understand her father's perspective.
She had once been a pampered princess, untouched by the world's suffering.
Her expression shifted between complexity and quiet melancholy, leaving Roy baffled.
"Let us go," Riveria said softly.
The two departed the Dungeon and exited Babel Tower.
Roy stretched lazily.
To spar once and acquire two top-tier defensive spells—if only such fortune came daily.
"I will buy you another set of clothes. Ais's sword tore the fabric at your chest."
"There's no need to trouble—"
"There is."
Riveria's tone brooked no refusal.
Having confirmed Roy's possible royal lineage, her attitude had changed completely.
This was care for a junior.
Before Roy could object further, Riveria dragged him to the upper floors of Babel Tower and purchased a handsome new outfit for him—paid entirely from her own purse.
Roy's expression turned strange.
Something was clearly off.
Had his elven royal blood been discovered?
That was the only explanation for her drastic shift in attitude.
But judging by the situation—
this "foster mother," perhaps, meant him no harm.