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"Your Water God style has improved. I haven't seen your swordplay yet, but your Flow Sense refinement is impressive. In just moments, you've 'profiled' everyone in the classroom to tailor your greetings and blend in seamlessly. This doesn't resemble Master's approach—it's more like how I would use it."
"Flow Sense was learned from you, Senior Brother. Flexibility is key, no? Didn't you once say swordsmanship isn't just swordsmanship?"
"Mm. Water Saint now?"
"Yes. Water Saint."
"When?"
"Winter before last."
"Good."
Their dialogue fell like chess pieces, click-clacking into the evening breeze.
Footsteps echoed through the courtyard—one set of echoes, two figures walking side by side in the moonlight.
Isolte kept her eyes lowered, watching her own steps. In her periphery, Allen's feet lifted, advanced, landed. Unconsciously, she matched his rhythm, syncing her pace with his.
Step. Step.
Treading precisely where he had.
A childish game from her four-year-old shadowing days, now ingrained as habit. It was the same instinct that had made her follow Philip earlier, anticipating this reunion.
Her eyes, no longer narrowed, widened in the dark as she studied her shoes.
Amusing, she thought. Before meeting Allen, she'd rehearsed endlessly—how to speak, how to persuade him to return to the Water God dojo, how to deliver Grandmother's words without seeming desperate.
Yet now, walking beside him, those carefully constructed plans scattered like leaves in the wind.
In an instant, she was four again.
No Water God techniques. No tangled thoughts.
Just—
Simple sorrow.
"Why do you always sit alone at the dojo entrance?"
"Waiting… for Brother…"
"...Where are your parents? I've never seen them."
"They… disappeared. Got lost. Grandmother says they went somewhere far, far away… where I can't touch them. Only Brother doesn't have parents…"
And—
Simple joy.
"Can't touch them? I see."
"..."
"The sky, the earth, the sunset, the wind—they're all far away. You can't touch them either."
"...Huh?"
"Look left. Up. See the sunset?"
"Y-yes…"
"They're watching you too."
"...Really?"
"Really. Reach out. Feel anything?"
"...Something…"
"Wind."
"I… feel it."
"Your parents watch from afar, but they're also close enough to touch you. This is proof."
"...Mmm."
"Soft?"
"...Mmm… soft…"
"Don't cry. Smile for them."
"..."
"...Heh."
"Good. Hold onto that."
The blurry patterns on her shoes sharpened as the memory faded. Past and present voices overlapped.
Isolte smiled. Allen, meanwhile, sighed.
"Was I really that unreliable? 'Unusual behavior'—aside from hiding in a brothel as a bath attendant during North God II's hunt, I've been perfectly normal, haven't I?"
"'Unusual behavior'… wasn't about that."
"?"
She glanced at him, lips pursed.
"But 'unreliable' fits. You said you'd travel for two months, then vanished. That 'assassination attempt' wasn't coincidence—you charged into it. The Water God's top disciple doesn't do 'accidents.'"
Allen stiffened. "...That was an accident—"
Isolte cut him off. "Still, you got your wish."
He blinked. She beamed at him.
"I planned to drag you back to the dojo the moment I became a Water Saint. Grandmother promised you sanctuary. But after learning Flow Sense, pieces connected. Why did you return to Boreas? Why was Lord James cold to you? After the assassination, his reaction confirmed it—your parents are also 'somewhere far away,' aren't they?"
Her head tilted. Allen could only nod.
Technically true. As "Allen," he'd accepted Hilda as his mother. Isolte's reasoning was flawed, but her conclusion held.
And now, he couldn't offer the same comfort he once had.
She continued, "I hesitated to fetch you. This life clearly suits you. Then Philip's letter arrived."
Allen's brow rose. "What did it say?"
Her eyes gleamed in the dark.
"Just that you were safe in Roa, and not to worry. You never wrote. Grandmother had her reasons, but me?"
Allen listened to her half-teasing tone, then nodded. "I should've written. But—"
"You knew we were alive. Hence the posthumous Water Saint title and 'Bedrock' epithet—a message that the dojo still shields you, no?"
Isolte stuck out her tongue, suddenly childlike. "Caught. Grandmother and I watched you wipe out that bandit camp near Ligatt. The title was her idea."
"...So my false trails north didn't fool her. But that wasn't coincidence. Another reason?"
"Darius made moves. Grandmother… owes him. She monitors his affairs. Did you know he backed your bounty? He's close to Lord James—both support the First Prince."
"I guessed."
Isolte tensed. "Then—"
Allen cut her off. "I owe Grandmother for taking me in. Even with Darius as an enemy, she offered protection. I won't force her to choose sides."
His hand drifted to his sword hilt, expression shadowed.
Isolte studied his grip, then met his gaze, deadly serious.
"If you must kill Darius, I'll stop Grandmother. No—I'll kill him myself. She couldn't retaliate against me. But… I'm not strong enough yet. Please wait."
Allen stared, stunned. Her resolve didn't waver.
Finally, he chuckled. Flicked her forehead with a burst of aura.
Flick!
"Ow—!" She rubbed the spot, pouting.
"Relax. No need for dramatics."
Her smile returned. Allen shook his head.
"How's Dandellion? Still improving?"
She fell into step beside him. "Big Brother's the same—stoic, running the dojo, refusing promotions. Grandmother complains he keeps declining Water Saint."
"Still rigid as ever…"
"Worse since marriage."
Allen halted. "Married? He's fifteen!"
Isolte paused, grinning silently.
Moonlight pooled between them.
Realization struck. Right—Asuran nobles marry young. Fifteen is late for them.
"...Ah."
"Alze, Fork, and Curry married too. Falz is engaged."
"What? Wait, don't tell me—"
"I'm not betrothed."
Allen froze. "N-no, I didn't mean—" He floundered.
Isolte raised a hand. Moonlight dusted her fingertips as she pointed at herself.
"Among our peers, only you and I remain unspoken for."
Silence.
Moonlight spilled across the courtyard, unstoppable.
Classroom – Boreas Estate
Eris scowled out the window. "How long's it been?"
"Uh… two minutes?" Rudeus eyed Sylphiette nervously.
This 'childhood friend' bombshell… Under normal circumstances, he'd relish the drama. But now?
No. Bad. Very bad.
The "Green Leaf Plan" had borne fruit at Eris's birthday banquet—though he'd been knocked out before fully enjoying it. Since then, compared to those bold noblewomen with their honeyed whispers, Eris's fiery temper and Sylphiette's quiet intensity felt… genderless.
This tension? Agony.
Sylphiette, however, seemed calm.
Earlier, a flicker of insecurity had surfaced—she's the 'first'—but it vanished just as quickly.
Because Isolte knew.
Without a word exchanged, she'd recognized Sylphiette's place in Allen's life. Her compliments—on Sylphiette's looks, her necklace—were genuine.
Yet beneath them lay something else:
A restrained envy.
Courtyard – Later
Moonlight glossed Isolte's obsidian eyes as she blinked.
"That's the dojo's current state."
Allen studied her, then pivoted:
"Grandmother's message—it involves the knights? The king's elite squad, the Water Kings… what's it called?"
Her smile outshone the moon.
"'Dawn Knights.'"
"Grandmother said reaching Water King tier is your ticket back. If you want noble standing in the capital, the Dawn Knights are your safest path. Even Darius can't touch you there."
Allen smirked. "But joining would leash me—neutralizing my threat to him. You left that part out."
She tilted her head, stubborn warmth in her gaze.
"Unnecessary. I'll kill him."
Allen waved it off. "Requirements for the Dawn Knights?"
"Earn Water King, and you're in. Grandmother's words. No further details."
He nodded, turning toward the classroom.
Isolte lingered, watching his back. She raised a hand, fingers splayed, as if catching moonlight—or his silhouette.
Then she followed.
"You've decided to return?"
"Seems so. Though you expected this."
"Philip's letter, Lord Sauros's stance—it's obvious. You'll shoulder the family's glory. And…" Her eyes crinkled. "You'll inherit the Water God title someday. Of course you'd return."
Allen stopped. "The title is yours. I'm not interested."
Isolte's breath hitched.
Both knew the unspoken rule:
To claim the Water God mantle, one must master three of its five ultimate techniques. But there was another condition—
The Water God's spouse must renounce their house, becoming a commoner bound to the dojo.
A price neither could pay.
Moonlight traced Allen's jaw as Isolte stared, her gaze dropping to the azure mana stone at his throat—then back to his face.
Her smile turned wistful.
She opened her eyes fully, black irises steady.
"If you tell me to become Water God—"
Her next words fell like a vow:
"—then I will."
The night wind carried her voice away,
far beyond Boreas's walls,
to a place neither could reach.
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