Throne knew Sellen too well—left to her own devices without the hardships of travel, she'd bury herself in research for a century. He steadied his thoughts, calculating the Leyndell Army's supplies. The numbers confirmed it: the political balance in the capital was crumbling.
Godfrey's return or Morgott's awakening to the truth—that incompetent allies were worse than strong enemies—didn't matter. The cost of hesitation always came due. The nobility's power hinged on being the King's instruments, enforcing order across the Lands Between.
Now their decrees withered at Leyndell's gates. Their worth had drained away, leaving only Morgott's reluctance. Their roots ran too deep, tangled too tightly. Uprooting them would bleed the kingdom dry. That was why Morgott had endured them for so long.
But when a ruler finally raised the blade, heritage and honor meant nothing. Blood was cheaper than patience.
"If it's Morgott, there's hope. He's a perfectionist. He'll minimize the damage, let the nobles slink back to their shadows with clipped power. But if it's Godfrey—"
Throne's gaze swept west. He saw Leyndell's streets running red.
The First Elden Lord wouldn't stop at half-measures. Heads would roll. And that was what worried Throne most.
"Time. I still need time. But Godfrey doesn't play games. He smashes through them. When he reclaims the throne, everything resets."
This would be the Great Schism, worse than the Shattering. The Erdtree on one side, Caria on the other. Every faction would have to choose. The map told the story plainly—Caria and the Haligtree pressing Leyndell, Leyndell and Limgrave boxing in Caria, Caria and Caelid squeezing Limgrave. A knot no one could untangle.
"Brooding over those troubles again?"
Sellen leaned in the doorway, draped in a noblewoman's gown she'd scavenged somewhere. White silk threaded with gold, pearls glinting at the collar. The V-neck bared delicate collarbones, the fabric clinging to her curves.
"I can't help it. The closer I get to my ideal, the heavier it feels. Millions of lives rest on this." Throne sighed, then turned. His breath caught.
"Teacher, you're stunning in that."
"Months in those robes was enough. Since you're here, I thought I'd change."
She swept her hair back, casual.
"Are we really leaving Elphael? Stepping outside means trouble."
She'd grown used to the Haligtree's quiet rhythm—research, reading, Throne handling the errands. It was paradise. For once, the woman who never planned ahead hesitated.
"We have to. Even if Godfrey doesn't come for me, staying here is suicide."
Throne shrugged.
"You're strong enough now."
"Strong enough, yes. But I won't watch the world rot or let some 'savior' decide my fate."
His eyes flickered, seeing vines strangling the city's beauty, crowds reduced to hollow shells, some Tarnished stumbling in to end it all. Of course, with him and Malenia together, he couldn't imagine how fierce a Tarnished would have to be to defeat them both. Without dying a thousand times, they wouldn't be doing justice to the pair's tag-team effort. Sellen didn't grasp the future's desperation, but after a moment, she nodded.
"True. Since the elden ring was shattered, there really isn't much of a future visible in The Lands Between. It's better to keep moving forward."
"Then will you give up this comfortable life and come with me?"
"I have no interest in the elden ring or saviors, but since it's your idea, I will go even if it's into the abyss."
Sellen's tone was calm, but filled with unwavering resolve. Throne wasn't overly moved, but simply smiled.
"You really are different than before."
"Everyone grows. Over these years, I've read many books and caught up on a vast amount of knowledge."
Sellen gave the man a sidelong glance, hating to be treated as a fool.
"Whether it's philosophy, boring romance novels, or even a noble lady's bedroom secrets, I've found and read them all."
A noble lady's bedroom secrets? Please, let me have a look at that. Throne's lips twitched, but thinking he'd be mocked by Sellen, he kept them shut. He took one last look toward the cliff and walked into the house without looking back.
"Let's make dinner. We'll break out tomorrow and go find Melina and the others."
As daylight faded, the Glintstone Lamp emitted its light. Throne was in the kitchen making a dish even he didn't quite understand, cooking entirely by intuition. Sellen was at the tidy table researching the theory of embedding dual primeval glintstones, preparing to give Throne a complete upgrade in one go. After all, Throne's enemies were too strong; magic sigils were no longer enough. After obtaining Azur's primeval glintstone, she had new ideas, intending to push magic to an unimaginable level.
In just a few days, aside from the pain of doing research problems, Throne had basically grown accustomed to this busy yet leisurely life. He added wood to the stove, listening to the bubbling sound in the pot, and looked at Sellen, who had piled the table with books again. The sorceress seemed a bit irritable, picking up a book, reading a few pages, then tossing it aside to look at the next.
"Teacher's mood doesn't seem very high."
He noticed something was off. It made sense; for his sake, Sellen had given up her favorite pace of life. Once they left Elphael, returning to this peaceful life would be almost impossible, and there was even the danger of losing her life. A Primeval Sorcerer was hard to kill, but facing the Two Fingers, Godfrey, the Black Blade, or even the Elden Beast, the probability of death was very high. Throne thought it over; the only thing he could do was seize victory.
"If there's a chance, I'll build a great ship in the starry sky or something, so Teacher can research to her heart's content."
He dreamed of the future. No one knew what lay beyond The Lands Between or how Ranni's interstellar journey would be realized, but one couldn't exactly walk to the stars on foot. However, with the technological level of The Lands Between, wouldn't crafting a starship be a bit too difficult? Throne got lost in thought and decided he must ask Ranni, though she likely wouldn't know either. After all, leaving The Lands Between for the stars was already an unimaginable feat.
Oops, overthinking again. Smelling a strong burnt scent, Throne finally snapped out of his fantasy. Thinking that this habit of his was quite a skill, he calmly lifted the pot and poured the thick, unidentified substance into a plate.
"Teacher, hurry and clear up, it's time for dinner."
"Oh." Sellen nodded, but she continued to flip through her book.
Hey, you agreed with your mouth, so actually move. Throne didn't even bother to complain; he walked straight over and snatched the book away.
"What are you doing!"
Sellen, who was engrossed, was very displeased.
"Eat."
Throne didn't waste words. He put down the plate and closed the book, glancing at the cover: "How to Captivate Men—The Memoirs of Countess Elani."
He flipped through two pages—it was practically scandalous. He waved it in his hand as if he'd caught her red-handed.
"Teacher, why would you read such a boring book?"
"There is no such thing as boring knowledge. This Countess was a famous socialite in Leyndell. She rose from a commoner to marry three nobles in succession, eventually amassing a huge fortune. The knowledge of such an expert is very precious."
Sellen spoke expressionlessly while eating with a spoon. But there's good and bad knowledge. What's the point of this? Learning how to be a top-tier manipulator? Throne rolled his eyes. In some ways, Sellen was more troublesome than Millicent or Melina. At least the latter two had a sense of shame and normal values; they'd throw such a book on the ground with a red face after a few pages. Sellen was different; she dared to read and learn anything. He tossed the book far away and pulled out a chair to sit down.
"By the way, where did you get this book?"
Sellen picked at her food and said casually, "I asked Finlay to find some books on the philosophy of emotion earlier. She brought it from the Elphael library. But that idiot brought nothing but romance novels about knights and princesses; they have absolutely no reference value."
Finlay? You talked to that granite-head about love and philosophy? Throne wanted to laugh, then noticed a blind spot. This kind of book was surely circulated within the Leyndell nobility; ordinary people couldn't get their hands on it. So who brought it to the north? It couldn't be Malenia... could it be Miquella? Thinking of the latter's traits, he got a case of the goosebumps. What a tricky one! Shaking his head, Throne asked with interest, "Didn't you just say that knowledge is never boring?"
"First of all, that has to actually be knowledge. Those stories about knights dueling Ancient Dragons to rescue princesses are even more ridiculous than what bards come up with. So, don't throw away that autobiography; there is a lot to be learned from it."
"So, what exactly do you want to learn?"
"Such a foolish question is exactly what the book describes as the third type of man—someone with terrifyingly low emotional intelligence."
Sellen set down her knife and fork, looked at the bewildered Throne, cupped her chin, and said, enunciating every word, "Of course, it's to completely capture you."
The soft light of the Glintstone Lamp shone upon Sellen's fair skin, and those clear, sea-like azure eyes revealed her sincerity. Her long white dress outlined her perfect figure. With skin like snow, hair like a waterfall, and her elegant, intellectual temperament, even the most obtuse person would realize one truth: This is a woman—an extremely beautiful woman. Did she wear this dress on purpose today? Throne felt his heart rate accelerating and felt the atmosphere in the room becoming strange. However, having been teased by Sellen too many times, he found it hard to be certain. He stood stunned for a moment, then gave an awkward smile.
"Teacher, you're joking again. It's better to read less of such rubbish books."
"I am very serious, and this is not a rubbish book. If that countess were still alive, I would really like to go to Leyndell to thank her for solving some of the problems that have troubled me for ten years."
Throne's heartbeat gradually slowed down. Sellen was too rational, killing any impulse he had. He smiled bitterly, thinking it had turned into an academic discussion again, but before he could join the discussion, Sellen raised her hand to interrupt him.
"Do you still remember Summonwater Village from over a decade ago?"
"Of course I remember."
Throne nodded; that was an indelible memory.
"I discovered that your rejection back then wasn't because my puppet-making skills were lacking. No matter how exquisite a puppet is, humans only develop simple desires for it, not that invisible emotion—just like how you disliked that gift of mine."
You've finally figured it out. And I didn't dislike that gift; I could quietly use it when no one was around. Occasionally using it is beneficial for physical and mental health.
"So, I was wrong. You might never be able to become a qualified Primeval Sorcerer, but as a teacher, I am also constantly learning. Over these years, I have often pondered, and I have finally found the answer."
Throne was a bit confused, but looking at the serious Sellen, he had to sit up straight and listen attentively.
"When one acts for the sake of another person without counting the cost, changes their long-held wishes, disregards their own life, and does things that are difficult for reason to understand—that is love."
Sellen gave her answer, though her expression held no shyness, nor much emotional fluctuation. Throne blinked, then the corners of his mouth twitched. He suddenly realized this wasn't an academic discussion, but a confession from Sellen to him, and he soon revealed a bitter smile. As expected of my teacher, even her confession is so sober and refined, keeping my emotions so calm that it's hard to muster any impulse. Precisely because he was calm, he remained very composed and instead reminded her, "Your answer is barely correct, but 'love' can be divided into many categories—for example, parents to children, best friends to best friends, teacher and student, and also man and woman."
As he finished speaking, Throne, who hadn't expected much anyway, didn't see any sign of distress on Sellen's face. Instead, she looked even more puzzled. Before he could speak, Sellen had already pressed her hands on the table, leaned forward, and brought her head closer.
"Don't underestimate me. This kind of question is very strange, but it's not difficult. I know very well what the relationship between a teacher and a student should be like."
Throne's eyes slowly widened as Sellen spoke, especially as Sellen, wearing a long white dress, leaned her body forward; under the influence of gravity, the curves were nothing short of breathtaking.
No, why aren't you following the script? You went straight from advanced to ultimate form.
"But we are teacher and student…" Throne stopped midway through his sentence. Thinking about it—Oh no, why am I even more excited!
"Teacher and student? Then your eyes shouldn't have desire right now. I've studied this for over ten years and finally understood: you aren't interested in puppets; you prefer the living, breathing me."
Sellen's sea-like eyes were very calm, her observation skills as meticulous as ever. Although Throne didn't blush, he felt depressed having his hidden little thoughts seen through. Recalling the oath he had made back then, he felt even more ashamed. He had once said that he only had respect for Sellen, and that even if he jumped off the Erdtree, he would never be a treacherous disciple to his master. But after Sellen said that, he came back to his senses. That's right. No matter how much he respected his teacher, it wouldn't be enough to make him abandon everything and travel thousands of miles to the far northern sacred tree.
"Are you sure?"
Asking this, Throne was left with only determination. If Sellen really thought this way but didn't know what to do, then as a swordsman, he would never retreat, nor would he act like some useless, overly kind fool who pretends to understand.
"Could my analysis be wrong?"
Sellen raised her slender eyebrows. From a probabilistic standpoint, her prediction shouldn't be wrong. Of course, she didn't understand embarrassment, and while she was deep in thought, she suddenly felt a strange sensation on her lips. It was a bit soft, and even more domineering. The man's breath brushed against her cheeks. Her eyes suddenly widened, then slowly closed.
The Glintstone Lamp cast flickering light across the square table where two figures leaned in, breaths growing ragged. Throne broke away first, settling back into his chair with the grace of a man pretending he hadn't just been shaken to his core.
"How was it?"
The swordsman's voice came out rougher than intended, his flush fading as circulation returned to less urgent areas. Sellen sat frozen, a statue carved from bewilderment. Seconds crawled by before her azure eyes refocused. Delicate fingers brushed her swollen lips.
"Is this what they call a kiss?"
"Yes. One of the ways humans sustain affection."
Throne nodded like he wasn't drowning in cognitive dissonance. By all rights, this moment should have devolved into frantic grappling—dry timber meeting spark. Yet here they sat, dissecting intimacy with the clinical detachment of scholars examining a corpse.
"Fascinating."
Her palm pressed against her sternum, where her pulse still rabbited.
"Minimal physical contact provoked measurable cardiopulmonary acceleration. This defies all biological frameworks."
"Gods themselves fail to parse human emotions."
Throne massaged his temples. The script demanded philosophical discourse, but what could an executioner turned reluctant Casanova possibly clarify? Sellen's head tilted, a predator spotting weakness.
"Have you performed this act with others? The Lunar Princess, perhaps?"
The question hit like a sledgehammer. Throne's spine liquefied.
"Ranni? No. She's... not like you."
"Elaborate."
"However aloof or tsundere others might be, they at least comprehend emotional escalation."
He floundered for the right words. Ranni and Melina would require centuries of buildup before risking a touch. Sellen? She'd vaulted straight past propriety into uncharted territory. Lansseax had the advantage of millennia-thick skin—this woman operated with zero shame, rendering her unstoppable.
"Your distinction pleases me."
Her lips curled, eyes gleaming with the fervor of a scientist discovering a new law of physics.
"This must be possessiveness. The research potential is staggering."
Throne watched her ascend into euphoria, the way she'd once dissected glintstone phenomena. His sanity teetered. At least she grasped the concept, even if her methodology resembled a meteor strike. A thousand rebuttals condensed into a single realization as he met her star-bright gaze: I'm determined to be this treacherous disciple!