Buena Village sat at the northernmost tip of the Fittoa Region. As a crucial site for crop production, maintaining the roads for easy transport had become something of a yearly tradition.
The road they traveled was smooth enough—broad enough for two carriages to ride side by side.
On a clear day, the ride would have been nearly bump-free.
But the storm hadn't let up for some time now.
The path had turned into a muddy mess.
And inside the carriage, the ride was jarring.
How bumpy, exactly?
Sylphy's white hair whipped through the air, the glowing tips flicking against Allen's cheek.
The candle had been fixed to the table by Sylphy's Earth Magic, but the flame still trembled wildly.
Sylphy was practically sitting on top of Allen.
Meanwhile, Eris had already collapsed onto the cat-eared beastmaid's lap, eyes closed, breathing deep and even.
The bouncing of the carriage was like a cradle, and nestled in the soft, fur-scented arms of her favorite furry maid, she was out cold.
Slept like a baby.
Allen was doing his best not to stare at the beastmaid's tail, which swayed in rhythm with the carriage's motion. He kept his head turned toward the top of Sylphy's head, his mind preoccupied with what was to come.
Sylphy could feel Allen's intense gaze boring into her. Like a frightened quail, she tucked her chin down against her chest, her eyes fixed on the spot where her knee kept brushing against Allen's with the movement of the carriage.
She didn't know if it was because it was close to her usual bedtime, but ever since they'd boarded the carriage, her head had grown fuzzier by the minute. Like she was floating on clouds.
Technically, she could've just cast a simple Wind spell to wrap herself in pressure and anchor her body to the seat, stop her knee from moving.
But for some reason, her brain just wouldn't cooperate—no matter how she tried, she couldn't channel her mana.
So she let it happen.
Their knees bumped. Separated. Bumped again.
Nine hundred twenty-one.
That was how many times their knees had touched.
"Hey, Sylphy, are you feeling okay? You've been keeping your head down since this afternoon."
Ninety-two?
!!!
Sylphy jolted upright like she'd been zapped. Her legs snapped together, prim and proper in front of her, and the little voice in her head froze at exactly "922."
She sat perfectly still. And like magic—her mana returned immediately!
"No! I-I'm fine, Allen!"
Allen had noticed for a while now that Sylphy had been unusually quiet ever since she cried earlier that afternoon. He looked down at her, with her head ducked like a flustered quail and that soft, snow-colored hair, and blinked slowly.
"That's good. Do you want to try getting some rest?"
Sylphy blinked back at him, a little dazed.
"Rest...?"
"Yeah. It's still a few hours until we reach Roa. You can sleep for a bit—like Eris is doing."
Sylphy lifted her gaze and looked across the carriage.
Eris is asleep… in the cat-eared onee-san's lap… If I were to sleep like her, then where would I…
The edge of Allen's chest swept through her peripheral vision, and her red-brown eyes immediately went into full panic mode.
"I—I—I'm not sleepy!"
That soft, syrupy voice cracked with panic.
Across from them, Eris stirred at the sound, rubbed her eyes sleepily, shifted into a new position, and drifted right back into slumber.
The carriage fell silent for a beat.
Then Allen replied, calm as ever.
"Alright. Then just stay awake for now. That's fine too."
It wasn't until she heard Allen's voice—still so calm—that Sylphy began to relax again.
"Okay…"
Her knee started bouncing once more.
Allen, however, had other things on his mind.
A gust of wind blew the curtain aside, and shattered rain droplets scattered across his vision.
System: Unfinished task progress.
A wisp of smoke flickered into view.
[Task Evaluation: (1/2) – Countdown: 16:49:23]
[Reward: Participation Score: 5/10]
[Achievement: Gained the proper sense of awe a younger sibling should have toward her older brother.]
[Unlocked: Divine Strike Magic Slot]
[Eris: Countdown 40:41:07 – On completion, unlocks Divine Strike Magic Slot]
Allen's eyes lingered on the countdown timer.
Only sixteen hours left for this assessment… System tasks never assign time limits without reason. If I go by previous observations—
Philip's evaluation of me had two parts, the first being "ability," which was verified by the system. He clearly stated as much during our talk in the rain. He's satisfied with my potential in that regard, and wants to personally train me, shape me into a proper "politician," and one day take me to the capital—into the whirlpool of political struggle once again.
But I need to remember—he didn't come here with high hopes for me. To him, I was just some punk from the Water God dojo known for throwing punches. That's why he only set up a few basic variables—to toss me into uncertainty and observe how I'd react. The fact that I passed was more a happy surprise than anything planned.
So… based on that, this second part of the test probably isn't about "ability" anymore…
Philip's voice echoed in his mind:
"Allen, I know how talented you are with the sword. Don't underestimate yourself. Even with just brute strength, you're a valuable asset."
Allen narrowed his eyes and came to a conclusion.
It's about combat. More specifically—swordsmanship.
With that thought, he pulled aside the curtain and looked back toward the two carriages trailing behind them.
Something's not right with the fourth one. Just a single beastgirl maid and an otherwise empty carriage. They said it was for our luggage, but that's unnecessary—we don't need a whole carriage just for a few bags. If she had been assigned to Eris' carriage instead, then the fourth would be completely empty.
Allen turned and looked across at the cat-eared maid.
He smiled.
Warmly.
His voice matched the smile.
"Excuse me, miss. May I ask you a question?"
The cat-eared beastmaid's ears twitched. She clearly hadn't expected Allen to address her so suddenly. Beside her, Sylphy jumped slightly, immediately sitting up ramrod straight.
Eris had already been sleeping lightly. The moment Allen spoke, she stirred again, rubbed her eyes, and grumbled, "So noisy…"
And almost at the same moment, Allen's voice rang out again:
"Where's Ghislaine?"
The smile on the cat-eared maid's face froze.
Eris' eyes shot open.
"Huh? Ghislaine's here?!"
She sat bolt upright, craning her neck in the maid's lap, looking frantically around the carriage.
But there was no sign of Ghislaine anywhere.
"What the hell are you guys doing…?"
As her voice trailed off, the wind flapped against the curtains.
Allen had already seen the answer in the beastmaid's expression.
He turned his gaze toward the rainy darkness beyond the window. And from the adjacent carriage—he felt it.
Philip's stare.
That familiar sense of being watched.
A perception skill rooted in the Water God Style.
Even with rain lashing down and distance between them, Allen could feel Philip's eyes on him.
Still with that half-lidded, leisurely gaze.
Still with that smug, knowing look.
The curtain fluttered—
And in the distance, shadows loomed.
From the forest beyond the veil of rain—
They were coming.
No time left.