Chapter 122
Silence filled the space between them, a gentle tension that did not stem from conflict, but from unanswered curiosity.
Erietta understood that grasping her teacher was not as simple as mastering techniques or battle strategies, for there were layers hidden within his behavior and choices—layers that were not always logical to others.
"Because all of this comes from my mind.
You, Aldraya, this world, even the gods—everything was created by the maker of your world, inspired by my writings."
Theo sat quietly, lowering his head for a moment before writing with the familiar rhythm of habit, briefly explaining that he was a writer.
He emphasized that Erietta, Aldraya, the world they lived in, even the gods and goddesses, were all born from his own inspiration.
Every form, every detail, every interaction and law of the universe existed as a result of his work—work that had spread throughout the world, influencing anyone who walked within it.
In other words, the entirety of their existence was a reflection of the ideas he wrote—a trail etched into reality and into the experiences of every individual present within it.
Inspired by a work titled Last Prayer.
He did not rush to explain further, offering only the core that would allow Erietta to grasp at least a fragment of understanding.
The explanation flowed like calm yet forceful water, moving without demanding an answer, allowing his student to weigh and contemplate the meaning behind each word.
Every motion of Theo's hand across the yellow notebook became its own rhythm—a dance of letters and symbols that seemed alive under the influence of his thoughts.
"Is that truly how it is? And if it is, then what will happen to me in the future?"
Theo set down his pen for a moment, gazing ahead without turning, letting his eyes drift toward the clear sky.
He did not rush to answer, even though he knew Erietta sought something important.
For Theo, this moment held a subtle rhythm that demanded patience—like a quiet river whose surface hid a powerful undercurrent.
Every passing second felt as if time itself tightened, forcing his student to reflect on the meaning of a question not yet fully answered.
He allowed Erietta to ponder it, aware that true understanding could only be born from a slow, reflective internal process.
The space around them remained still, broken only by the sound of Theo's pen etching ink onto the yellow pages.
Each line, each stroke, extended from his thoughts—gentle waves moving unnoticed by his student.
Though Erietta wished for a concrete answer, Theo chose to remain in the observer's stance, watching how her attention followed the rhythm he created.
In his silence, he read every crease on her brow, every restrained gesture, as part of a learning process far deeper than anything that could be spoken aloud.
On one hand, the silence brought forth a tension almost invisible.
Every second felt significant, as though time itself held its breath, watching this delicate exchange.
'Strange. Erietta isn't the type to trust others easily, especially those with no special bond to her.
But her question makes it clear—she sees me as someone she trusts deeply.
And perhaps this curiosity comes from her deteriorating mental state, pushing her to question her own future. Or am I simply overthinking?'
The space between them felt dense with unspoken pressure, a tension unseen yet perceptible to anyone capable of sensing its rhythm.
Theo sat calmly, his eyes fixed on the open yellow notebook, his pen moving as though creating ripples that pierced through space and time.
Every movement of his hand and every line of ink recorded was more than mere writing—it was a reflection of consciousness, observation, and silent calculation.
Erietta sat close by, calm yet attentive, her awareness and curiosity shining in her eyes, even if she did not fully grasp the meaning behind each stroke Theo created.
This was not a simple exchange between teacher and student, but a subtle dance of self-control, trust, and an emerging understanding forming within her.
The energy around them pulsed with a rhythm only noticeable to those accustomed to sensing the faintest waves of intention and focus.
Theo felt this moment was a test of patience and precision—a test where even the smallest movement or shift in attention could signal something important about his student's inner state.
Erietta's eyes occasionally followed the pen, then shifted to the space around her, though her focus remained steady.
For her, the trust she placed in Theo was rare—born not from simple words or actions, but from accumulated observation, experience, and unspoken understanding.
Theo realized that every passing second was an opportunity to strengthen or test the boundaries of their awareness and patience, and he chose silence, letting her contemplate the delicate bond forming between them.
Erietta's curiosity rose like a small yet persistent wave, absorbed into a flow of attention that demanded internal restraint and deep reflection.
Theo wrote, recorded, and monitored the subtle rhythm forming between them, as though each word and ring of ink created an invisible map of her mental state.
He understood that Erietta viewed him with a sincerity she seldom gave—even to those closest to her—and that trust was earned through accumulated interactions, influence, and experiences that required courage to uncover the hidden layers of herself.
His influence did not stem from commands or pressure, but from his ability to be present, observant, and attentive without demanding immediate answers.
There was a rhythm to this silence—energy and awareness moving quietly yet surely, forming a bridge that connected thoughts between teacher and student.
'I hesitate. If I interfere, the entire Flo Viva Mythology scenario could fall apart.
But seeing Erietta and the nine main antagonists, including Ilux Rediona, all carrying Administrator seeds… if any of them are gravely injured or killed, the game code could collapse.
I really have no other choice.'
"Yes, I do know your fate, Erietta.
You will meet a tragic end and will never be remembered by anyone—not even your own family."
Theo remained still, his gaze fixed on the yellow notebook, each line of ink radiating a wave of energy perceptible only to those with heightened sensitivity.
He understood the danger lurking—not only for Erietta, but for the entire Flo Viva Mythology scenario.
The game's world code and structure were fragile, vulnerable to even the slightest error, and the Administrator seeds within Erietta and the nine antagonists heightened the complexity of the threat.
Every action, every question, every response carried consequences far greater than an ordinary exchange.
Theo realized that revealing the truth outright could destroy the game's rhythm, disrupt the carefully arranged scenario, and trigger fatal consequences for Flo Viva Mythology.
He restrained himself, weighing each word and motion, ensuring that his influence remained instructive without being destructive.
To be continued…