After some time, Trina slowly awoke, two familiar voices echoing faintly in her ears.
"You still love teasing me, don't you..."
"Weren't you the one who asked for it?"
"But I never said you could use your mouth."
"Well, about that..."
"I'm joking. I don't dislike this side of you—actually, I rather like it."
As she spoke, the masked woman seemed to notice something. Her gaze shifted toward the small purple flower resting in the Ashen One's arms, and she reached out to gently stroke its head.
"Sorry, we had a bit of a situation just now. Did we wake you?"
"No, I just woke up..."
As she stirred from her deep slumber, Trina slowly opened her eyes.
Before her thoughts could fully clear, she immediately sensed something was wrong.
She had spent a long time in this space and had grown familiar with the masked woman—someone serene and composed, graceful in manner whether alone or with others.
But now, that woman, usually the very embodiment of calm, looked utterly disheveled.
Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven, her heartbeat racing. Though she tried hard to appear composed, the fine beads of sweat across her forehead and the trembling hands smoothing her disordered clothes betrayed her true state.
In her arms, the Ashen One still lay as before. Yet somehow, his body now carried the faint scent of the masked woman, and his expression seemed different from before.
This was...
Before she could think further, the Ashen One lowered his head, looking at her with a helpless expression.
"Do you remember what you did earlier?"
What... I did?
Trina froze. Slowly, fragments of her last memories surfaced.
Because Lloyd had not awakened for a long time—and after receiving so many rewards—her boldness had grown, and certain thoughts had begun to form in her heart.
So, after much hesitation, using the excuse of helping Lord Lloyd stabilize his condition more thoroughly, and with the masked woman's permission, she had sat atop him. Gazing at his sleeping face, she took a deep breath and slowly leaned down.
She had only intended to infuse a bit of nectar and then leave. But upon contact, the sensation was far more intoxicating than she had imagined. Lost in the moment, she indulged too deeply. By the time she regained awareness, not only had she used up the nectar she'd meant to offer, but even the nectar sustaining her existence—along with traces of her very essence—had begun to flow out.
Fortunately, in this place, rest alone was enough for her to recover, nurtured by the ever-present flow of soul energy.
Originally, she had planned to find a quiet corner to sleep and regain her strength.
But as she looked at that peaceful, enticing sleeping face, hesitation turned to temptation—and in the end, greed won out.
And then... there was no "then."
Since Lord Lloyd had been dormant for so long, and knowing how busy he'd been lately, Trina hadn't even considered the chance that he might awaken. She'd only wanted to secretly indulge for a moment and then leave.
But now...
"My Lord, please forgive me. I just... I just..."
The little purple flower stammered softly before lowering her head.
"I just couldn't hold myself back."
Looking at the bashful little blossom before him, the Ashen One reached out and gently brushed her hair.
"There's no need to worry. I'm not angry. You were only trying to help me, weren't you?"
"But next time, try not to fall asleep. If you got hurt because of it, I'd be sad too."
"...Mm."
The purple flower murmured faintly, then nestled back against him. She felt the warmth beneath her, breathed in that soothing scent, and her expression gradually softened in bliss.
Her King really was such a gentle and kind man...
After comforting the little purple flower, the Ashen One lifted his gaze again. Cradling her in one arm and gently stroking her back, he began to chat with the masked woman.
Their conversation wasn't anything special—he spoke about his recent journeys, the lands he had seen, and the people of the Lands Between. He even shared a few anecdotes, like the story of Miquella and Godwyn, which made the corners of the masked woman's lips curl faintly in amusement.
When the Ashen One finished, the masked woman finally spoke.
"Oh, I also have something I'd like to discuss with you."
As she spoke, the masked woman reached to her side and fumbled for a moment before something appeared in her hand. It was a jet-black fragment.
"Earlier, I spoke with a golden-haired lady. She taught me a few things, enabling me to help you pick up some of these here...
"You mentioned before that you've already used this to retrieve an old friend, so I suppose I needn't explain its purpose."
The masked woman slowly placed the fragment into the Ashen One's hand. Watching it merge inside, she nodded slowly.
"With this, you should be able to take her out and reshape her."
But despite her words, the Ashen One didn't rush to take the fragment out for reshaping. Instead, after sensing its properties, he looked back at the masked woman.
"You must feel lonely here all by yourself, right?"
"Things have actually improved since she came."
The masked woman glanced at Trina in Lloyd's arms, then seemed to realize something.
"Do you want her to stay here with me?"
"Not just you."
Ashen One turned his head, his gaze drifting toward the distant horizon, fixed upon the boundless gray expanse and the lifeless world.
"If things continue like this, sooner or later, someone will come here. So before the guests arrive, I want to at least make it look somewhat presentable.
"Besides, it's not fair to always leave Alice to handle everything alone. If possible, I'd like to try contributing too.
"For that, I need a 'Creator' to assist me."
After a pause, the Ashen One added, "Of course, I'll respect her wishes. If she wants to go outside herself, I'll take her out...
"And honestly, I don't think she'd want to go out right now anyway."
The 'her' the Ashen One referred to was the "White Lady" he'd mentioned earlier in his conversation with Gael—the one possessing the ability to create worlds through painting.
Logically, given Gael and the White Lady's relationship, she should be eager to meet Gael outside. But...
"Have you ever seen elderly people raising children?"
"Especially those from poor backgrounds, with limited education, and deeply influenced by tradition?"
"If you have, you'll understand what I mean. But if you haven't... well, it's probably best you haven't."
Truthfully, the White Lady cherished her Grandfather Gael deeply. She knew he genuinely cared for her and truly regarded him as her own grandfather from the bottom of her heart.
The problem was, due to his background and age, Grandpa Gael's expressions of care sometimes came across as... indescribable.
"White Lady, you really need to eat more. You're far too thin right now..."
—Yet she was already fretting over her expanding waistline at that very moment.
"White Lady, I read in a book that being picky about food is bad. You need to eat more to grow up healthy..."
—While picky eating was indeed unwise, the idea of mixing Spirit Ash into her rice was simply too much for her to swallow.
"White Lady, are they bullying you? Do you need me to... No? But you look..."
—Please, it was just friends messing around. And after what you did earlier, others already didn't want to play with her anyway.
In any case, the White Lady genuinely cared about Gael and was willing to visit him occasionally, but long-term companionship...
"Then you might as well not have resurrected me."
Just as the Ashen One had anticipated, upon hearing that Gael was now the only one outside who could care for her, the pale-skinned, half-dragon girl before him—just resurrected, with vertical golden pupils and a partially scaled body—shuddered. Then she immediately declared, with utmost seriousness, her intent to remain here.
As for why she wasn't tossed into the Golden Dungeon?
The answer was simple: there wasn't enough space.
As the 'Creator' Lloyd had once kept by his side, pouring countless resources into her cultivation in an attempt to prolong the world's existence, her strength and power were far beyond what the current world could contain.
Though her combat prowess wasn't outstanding—her fighting skills were downright abysmal—her strength tier and magnitude surpassed even Gael's current strength. If the Ashen One dared to shove her into a dungeon, it would instantly implode before his eyes.
Plus, the Ashen One needed her help, so she decided to stay put for now.
Of course, this didn't mean she didn't want to meet Gael.
Truthfully, after her resurrection, to claim she didn't miss her grandfather or yearn to see him would be utterly impossible.
The problem, however, lay in two aspects. On one hand, the place she currently occupied was sealed off. While leaving was easy, entering was far more difficult—hence why Alice could only relay messages inward, unable to physically enter herself.
On the other hand, after such a long separation—even experiencing life-and-death parting—suddenly meeting him now? Who knew how that old man would react?
So, despite her longing, for the sake of her own mental and physical well-being, she felt it necessary to prepare and ease into things before meeting him. Better safe than sorry, lest something unexpected happened.
After some contemplation, the White Lady decided to first paint a picture. She would have the Ashen One carry it to Gael, using it to convey the news of her resurrection—so he wouldn't keep worrying.
But to paint—not only for Gael's sake, but also to express something to this dim, lifeless world—there was one indispensable element.
Painting required pigments.
And not ordinary pigments, but ones imbued with power.
So, just as they had done countless times long ago, she sat atop the Ashen One, lightly tracing her fingertips across his skin, and then—
Splash—
Sharp claws sliced through, tearing skin and veins.
Pigment welled forth.
Dipping her fingers into it, the half-dragon girl used the Ashen One's ashes as her canvas, her expression focused as she began to paint.
Before long, a depiction of the Ashen One battling Gael took form, faint traces of a sweet, metallic scent lingering upon it.
Satisfied that her skill hadn't faded—only grown a little rusty—the half-dragon girl nodded, then handed the painting to the Ashen One.
"The rest is up to you."
After receiving the painting, the Ashen One prepared to sink back into slumber as the appointed time drew near.
But just as he slowly closed his eyes, ready to drift away, he heard a faint sound—something moving closer.
Then, at the moment his eyes shut, something soft pressed against his chest. A moist, tender sensation brushed his lips.
The girl's voice whispered again.
"Also, it's been a long time, Lloyd."
"I missed you too."
Those were the last words the Ashen One heard before his consciousness fell into darkness.
...
Lloyd awoke. But not completely.
Perhaps it was because he'd absorbed too much nectar, or because of the blood loss—or maybe, with others' help, he'd recovered a faint trace of humanity.
Whatever the cause, this time, even as his consciousness sank into darkness, he retained a faint sense of the world around him.
Yet, unlike before, since he hadn't awakened from a complete sleep, his awareness was hazy and disoriented, his perception of the outside world indistinct. The result was a state where he was awake, but not entirely.
In simpler terms—sleepwalking.
And as for what he dreamed of...
He saw food.
Or rather, countless buns and steamed rolls.
They varied in size and shape, but always appeared in pairs. Except for one moldy, spoiled-looking bun, the rest all looked irresistibly appetizing.
Though puzzled as to why so much food surrounded him—and unable to taste any of it—Lloyd, following the simple logic of "waste not, want not," reached out, picked one up, and took a bite.
Then something strange happened.
The bun he bit into seemed alive. It drew in a sharp breath and let out a pitiful, human-like sound.
"Ow..."
Though baffled by a talking bun, Lloyd decided not to press it further. It seemed alive, after all. Instead, he turned his attention to the others.
Unfortunately, after testing a few more, he found that every single bun—and even that moldy one—was alive.
So despite looking delicious, none of them could be eaten.
Lloyd didn't dwell on it.
Though he couldn't eat them, their texture was surprisingly pleasant to the touch.
And just touching them didn't cause harm—in fact, they seemed to enjoy it.
Then...
...nothing else happened.
After playing with the buns for a while—even giving that moldy little one some attention—Lloyd finally regained his senses and slowly opened his eyes.
A familiar scene greeted him.
He lay in someone's embrace. As his eyes focused, he saw the face of the person holding him.
But unlike before, it wasn't Alice or Melina.
It was a woman in a maid's outfit, with crimson eyes.
And at that moment, as he awoke, she was in the middle of lifting her skirt. When she realized he was awake, she slowly lowered her head.
In those crimson eyes gleamed a color Lloyd had never seen there before.
"Elizabeth?"
"Hmm? Our little baby's awake?"
She smiled as she spoke, but didn't stop what she was doing. With one hand, she wrapped an arm around Lloyd's neck, lifting his head and drawing him close. Then, in a strange, almost sultry tone, she whispered,
"It's alright. Don't be sad. They didn't want to play with you—but Mommy does..."
"Whether you want to bite, swallow, or devour me whole, Mommy doesn't mind. Don't hold back..."
Thud!
"Just give me a moment..."
"Control yourself!"
With a sweeping strike of her double-helix greatsword, Melina sent Elizabeth crashing onto the bed.
Elizabeth sat up, glaring at the brown-haired girl who had just attacked her.
"Hey, come on! I asked if you wanted to play, you said no, so I played by myself..."
"We agreed to tease him! Does this look like teasing to you?!"
"Why not?"
Elizabeth stiffened her neck, about to argue back, but before she could, Millicent—clutching her chest, her face bright red—spoke softly.
"Um, Miss Elizabeth... this really doesn't look like you're joking..."
Hearing the honest girl's words, Elizabeth fell silent for a moment, then sighed and released Lloyd from her arms.
"Sigh... you two..."
At that moment, she finally understood why those two hadn't done anything with him yet, even under these circumstances.
You had the chance—and wasted it!
After a brief silence, Lloyd blinked from where he lay and spoke slowly.
"Um... could someone explain what's going on? And why you're all in my bedroom...?"
"Oh, that."
Elizabeth instinctively started to lift her clothes again, but seeing Melina tighten her grip on the double-helix greatsword, she let out a small "tsk" and lowered her hand.
"It's nothing serious. We were having dinner earlier, noticed you weren't around, and heard you were asleep. So, we thought we'd take the chance to tease you a bit..."
She turned to glance at the two red-faced girls beside her, smacked her lips twice, and shook her head.
"But judging from how things turned out, forget about us teasing you—it looks like you're the one who ended up teasing us instead."
"Well... not that I'm complaining."