After a long night of conversation, as the morning light appeared, the door of the small cabin slowly opened. Throne, somewhat exhausted, faced the morning sun with a muddled head. He certainly had not been drained dry by Sellen, but his spirit was extremely fatigued.
The two had spent the entire night in a serious and earnest discussion on why kissing causes the heart to race, even conducting several control group experiments. Only when the morning light shone in did Sellen go off to catch up on sleep, looking thoughtful. Throne fell into philosophical contemplation, feeling as though he had been cursed by Sellen.
If romance were always conducted in such a rigorous academic atmosphere, humanity would likely have gone extinct long ago. It left him constantly jumping back and forth between impulse and reason.
"Could this also be a theory from that wretched book, that unrequited longing is the highest state? No, that can't be right. Teacher doesn't have that kind of emotional intelligence. She has simply made progress, but not complete progress." Throne felt that if this continued, he would be assimilated. In the future, he wouldn't even feel any impulse when seeing Ranni and the others.
He even imagined a classic scene: a shy princess leans in, eyes closed with flushed cheeks, her heart pounding with anticipation, only for the knight to take her hand, sit her down, and engage in a rigorous and in-depth philosophical debate. In an instant, Throne shuddered and paced back and forth in front of the door, feeling somewhat agitated.
No, no, I cannot fall into Teacher's trap.
That would surely drive both me and Ranni and the others insane. Throne didn't consider himself a seafood merchant, but he certainly didn't want to be a great philosopher either. Even more terrifying was the lingering sense of crisis of dying suddenly. He finally understood why he was convinced that Sellen couldn't get along with anyone else.
Their thinking wasn't even on the same level; how could they get along? Sellen could treat any bizarre matter as a matter of course. Even Throne couldn't keep up with her thought process, but as he touched his lips, he subconsciously smiled. Bizarre as she was, Teacher tasted quite good, and her learning ability was strong—she had learned how to stir things up so quickly.
Hmm, since the veil between master and apprentice had been torn away, tearing away the next layer would be simple.
"Lord Throne, what is wrong?"
As Throne looked up, he saw Finlay standing before him, confusion written in her lake-green eyes.
"You seem very happy?"
She had come to call Throne to depart, thinking he disliked staying in Elphael.
"Not at all, how could that be? I wasn't thinking about anything."
Throne certainly could not discuss what happened last night with this knight; it would completely shatter her worldview. Over a decade ago, he never would have dreamed that Sellen would develop feelings beyond those of a master and apprentice. He had not expected their progress to be this fast upon meeting again; it was rising like a rocket.
Wait, why is my head full of thoughts about rebelling against my master? Watching the other person's expression change as if he were performing a face-changing act—gloomy then happy, happy then confused—Finlay could not help but speak up, "Lord Throne, we can be considered friends. If you have any confusing matters, feel free to tell me."
"You?"
Throne glanced at her sideways. This Finlay was quite good-looking, but she was too serious and rigid. Who would discuss these things with a steel-willed, straight-laced woman? Oh right, there was also a score to settle with her.
"I heard you found many books for my teacher to read?"
"Yes, entrusted by Miss Sellen, I found many from the library for her..."
Halfway through her sentence, the female knight abruptly stopped, cleared her throat with a soft cough, and continued.
"Some of the books she enjoys are... rather recreational in nature."
She paused, her tone shifting.
"They're the kind of books you like, aren't they, Finlay? I never expected that beneath your ironclad exterior, you harbor such a romantic streak. Tell me, do you picture yourself as the knight or the princess?"
Finlay didn't blush—she froze, her mouth hanging open, words caught in her throat.
"Don't tell me it's the evil dragon? Very well, you thick-browed, big-eyed traitor—"
"Of course not! I imagine myself as the princess!"
The words burst out of Finlay before she could stop herself. Her delicate features, incongruous with her armor, flushed faintly as soon as she spoke.
As a leader of the Cleanrot Knights and a guardian of the Valkyrie, she was supposed to embody firmness, cold resolve, and honor. How could she entertain such soft, whimsical fantasies? To her surprise, Throne, the paragon of knighthood, didn't mock her. Instead, he smiled faintly and gave her shoulder a gentle pat.
"It's a good hobby. It's helped me relax quite a bit."
"What's there to be happy about?" Finlay asked, bewildered.
"We're knights, yes, but we're also killing machines, wading through storms of blood. Don't forget, though—before all that, we're still human, with all the emotions and desires that come with it."
Throne's smile remained, but his tone was grave.
"So when we're not killing, we're just ordinary people. Killing is cruel enough; why burden yourself with more chains? Smile more when you can. We fight to live, but living isn't just about fighting."
Estimating that Sellen would be awake by now, Throne turned and left after speaking. These were his thoughts, not necessarily universal truths. Finlay didn't respond. She simply watched him go, his words echoing in her mind. Surprisingly, she felt no irritation at being lectured. After all, Throne's strength and accomplishments placed him at the pinnacle of knighthood. A few words of advice from such a figure carried undeniable weight. Smile more?
Finlay watched his back disappear through the door, raised a finger to the corner of her mouth, and tugged it upward—barely a smile.
When Throne returned to the room, he found Sellen lying on her side, propping her head up with one hand in a languid pose. His gaze lingered on her curves despite himself.
"Apprentice, this is truly something."
"What?"
"Ever since I said those things, the way you look at me is always filled with... desire."
Sellen's lips curled into a devilish smile, her expression faintly smug.
Cough, cough. This Sellen clearly understood nothing, yet she radiated temptation effortlessly. Throne cleared his throat and said helplessly, "Don't be so blunt. You need to learn something called 'atmosphere.'"
"It's ethereal and intangible; I can't grasp it for now. And why shouldn't I be blunt?"
"Because not everyone possesses your... invincible emotional intelligence."
Throne emphasized the word invincible. In his mind, Sellen was already the ultimate boss. She yawned, immediately understanding his reference, and answered bluntly, "Melina and Ranni? I don't care. Even if you found ten more women, I wouldn't waste energy on that kind of pointless hostility. Given your constitution, possessiveness is meaningless."
Throne was touched, though his blood pressure spiked. You might not care, but the others are harder to handle, and in the end, won't I be the one who suffers?
"But their possessiveness is strong; they're not as easy to talk to as you."
"Hmph. Clearly, they all have extraordinary backgrounds, yet they lack the sense to move forward. You have feelings for them, and they have feelings for you. You could easily take the next step—or even reach reproduction and propagation quite quickly..."
Sellen grumbled, then instantly looked at Throne as if he were a disappointment:
"In the end, it is still because you are inefficient. How many years has it been? How is there no breakthrough at all?"
"The progress is being pushed forward, unfolding slowly according to my plan."
Throne lowered his hands and head, suddenly feeling that something was wrong. Why am I reporting my progress to Sellen? She is one of my women too. This feeling was too strange. In the end, he had to lament that she was indeed his teacher. Even though he had already gained an advantage over Ranni and Melina, and could even trade blows with that old veteran, he could not get the upper hand with Sellen.
If this were in the school romance anime he had watched before, with all those genius love wars, Sellen would have steamrolled them all in a single episode. Sellen did not notice this strange atmosphere and simply sat up, "It is too slow. How about I personally step in to help?"
"No, no, absolutely not. That would be sending me on a one-way trip to the death realm."
Throne quickly refused.
Seeing Sellen raise an eyebrow, he changed his phrasing, "We discussed this all night last night without a result. Let me handle this kind of thing."
"Are you looking down on your teacher's ability?"
You do not have any ability at all! Just because you have had a realization, you think you are a great master? Besides, a great master cannot help others build a harem, can they? Does this count as cuckolding oneself? It made no sense. Throne thought for a moment and simply changed the subject, "These things are not important now. We must leave Elphael; staying here is just a waste of time."
"Hmm, you are right; it is time to go."
Sellen was indeed distracted. As a rational person, prioritizing tasks by urgency was basic operation.
That is fine; I finally deceived you. This matter is unsolvable, but at worst, I can separate you from the others and slowly think of a solution. Throne breathed a sigh of relief, maintaining a serious expression, "I have already talked to Finlay. The Haligtree Army will set out for Castle Sol to force Leyndell to retreat, and we will mix in with the army and find a way to leave this place."
"They alone are not enough."
"So we must have Malenia make a move herself."
"Is she still able to come out?"
"She does not need to come out; I have a way."
Throne revealed a mysterious smile. His things were already packed, but he could not take everything; daily necessities and the like would be left behind. Sellen turned back, a hint of nostalgia appearing in her deep blue eyes.
For some reason, she had become increasingly sentimental lately, actually developing feelings for this small cabin where she had lived for years.
"Still do not want to leave?"
Throne waited at the door, reading Sellen's reluctant expression.
"No, it is just a bit strange. Back then, when I left Raya Lucaria Academy, I did not feel the slightest bit of reluctance. I left, and that was that."
Although Teacher was still very bizarre, she had indeed become more emotional. Throne thought for a moment and then said, "Nostalgia is not a bad thing. But in the future, I will definitely find you a better place, with companions by my side, and the vast starry sky outside the window."
Sellen raised her head, imagined it for a moment, and instantly revealed a satisfied smile.
"I look forward to this day."
She no longer felt regret, walked past Throne, and left without looking back. Throne glanced into the simple room; although he had only stayed here for a few days, it had left him with many fond memories. I will come back if I have the chance in the future. Creak—The wooden door closed, the sunlight in the door crack gradually vanished, as if sealing away a memory.
Banners snapped in the wind along the Haligtree's outer walls. Armored knights tightened their reins, calming restless warhorses as a dense army formed ranks behind the city's defenses. The battle at Ordina had been fought mainly by the Cleanrot Knights, leaving the Haligtree's main force untouched.
If not for the creeping dementia spreading through their ranks, they could have held out indefinitely, relying on the treacherous terrain. Though they hated to admit it, Throne had risked his life to save them from disaster. Sending him away was the least they could do. It was the kind of situation where you beat up someone's king and they still had to thank you.
Repaying the favor was secondary. Sitting in an isolated city wasn't a solution, not to mention—
"Lord Throne, I entrust Lord Miquella's matter to you."
Finlay stood in full military attire, saluting with solemn hope in her eyes.
"If you can find him, all the Haligtree's problems will be solved. We'll stand firmly with Caria."
Retrieving Miquella was the Haligtree's deepest wish. To Malenia, this favor outweighed the heavens themselves—worth risking her life to assist. It was Throne's trump card, though O'Neil and the others eyed him with suspicion.
They'd seen the results of his treatment. Furious yet forced to thank him through gritted teeth—it was enough to make them want to vomit blood.
"Can you really find Lord Miquella?" Loretta asked, her curiosity sparking nods from the others.
"We couldn't do it even after marching tens of thousands of miles."
"The intelligence only says Lord Miquella is underground in Caelid. Is your relationship with Radahn strong enough for him to help?"
"And Caelid is tens of thousands of miles from the Haligtree. How much time would that take?"
Throne faced their doubts with a silent smile.
Perhaps this secret was his greatest advantage as a prophet, though he hadn't expected to use it so soon. Miquella's whereabouts were unknown to all, and finding the Mohgwyn Dynasty seemed like a pipe dream. Caelid was vast—you couldn't just dig wells everywhere. Yet Miquella's location would determine the Haligtree's stance.
No matter how lacking in morals they might be, they had to send reinforcements to show their gratitude.
"Rest assured, Caria has already found clues."
Throne shifted the blame onto Ranni.
"So where is Lord Miquella?"
"In the Mohgwyn Dynasty, in the hands of the demigod Mohg."
The group exchanged uneasy glances. As the most mysterious force, little was known about the Mohgwyn Dynasty, and Mohg himself was a name few had heard. But Throne's confidence left them speechless. If he failed, they'd lose nothing.
"Then I leave it to you. We'll await your good news at the Haligtree."
Finlay saluted and nodded to the Haligtree Army's high-ranking officials.
"Prepare to lead the army out. For this opportunity, paying the price of a thousand lives is worth it!"
They nodded in unison. Whether Throne was bluffing or not, the previous favor had to be repaid. For knights, honor outweighed life itself.
The Haligtree people were decent folk; cooperating with them was relatively reassuring. Throne waved them off.
"No need for such trouble. I have a way to scare off the Leyndell Army."
"Please enlighten us."
The knights looked on, curious. Throne was strong, but could he really scare away a legion of thousands?
"Simple."
Throne pulled out the illusion mask. He closed his eyes for a moment, then pressed it against his face. Instantly, his appearance shifted in the eyes of everyone. Red hair. Golden armor. A towering frame. The retracted prosthetic sword. That sharp, cutting aura.
Your Highness? Finlay nearly choked on the word. The disguise was flawless. But it wasn't just the appearance—it was the sharp, unparalleled temperament. The mask could handle the former, a mere trick of the eye, but the latter? Only Throne could pull that off. She flashed back to the great battle days ago. Had he been planning this all along?
"Similar. Too similar."
"I didn't expect you to have such a divine artifact," O'Neil said, his eyes raking over Throne from head to toe and back again. He clapped his hands in admiration.
"But the aura—that's the real marvel. Even if I tried, I couldn't replicate a fraction of it."
Items that altered appearance existed in the Lands Between. But an aura? That couldn't be faked. To impersonate a demigod, you needed the power of one.
"Did the Lunar Princess give this to you?"
Sellen leaned in, her voice low. She remembered Throne's skill with disguises—how he'd slipped past the Cuckoo Knights' blockade. Now, his ability was indistinguishable from the real thing.
"How do you think I got here all this way?"
Throne smirked.
"I've got so many personas I can't even count them. It's a pity I haven't seen Miquella. If I had, I'd have fooled these idiots long ago."
He tilted his head slightly, adding a touch of arrogance to the sharpness.
"Yes. Made by Ranni herself."
"Hmph. This Lunar Princess is quite useful," Sellen muttered.
"Teacher's decided to be a bit more patient with her."
Her words reminded Throne of the conflict between Ranni and Sellen. They'd nearly torn each other apart before. But there was no time for that now.
"Let's go, my knights. Show our sharpness to Leyndell."
Throne strode out and stepped onto the city wall, displaying himself like this before the thousands of the Haligtree Army. The military formation, standing solemnly, turned their heads one by one. They saw that familiar figure, felt that invincible sharpness.