As their "brief skirmish" concluded, Faen unhurriedly pulled up his pants. He cast a leisurely gaze at Riven, who was still sprawled on the bed behind him, and tilted his chin. "I thought you'd be a lot stronger after seeing through your confusion. But looking at you now, you're still just a little small fry~"
Hearing Faen's words, Riven—lying there with her limbs spread wide, her body covered in thick white stains and the marks of his ravaging—flickered her eyelids. She curled her lip in disgust and muttered, "Stop acting like you didn't just get exactly what you wanted. I know your physical constitution better than anyone; I never expected to take you down alone. I'm only being this proactive because I need the power!"
As she spoke, Riven used her fingers to scrape some of the scattered "milk" from her skin and put it into her mouth. Feeling the power rising within her, a look of satisfaction appeared in her eyes.
Opening her eyes again and feeling Faen's gaze, she found that while she was used to it, being watched by him while she ate his semen still made her let out a few disgruntled hums. She then spoke with eyes burning with battle-intent:
"No matter what, I must return Noxus to the correct path... Perhaps to the Noxus of today, I am a traitor. But I can no longer tolerate more people like the old me being deceived by this hollow Noxus, becoming pawns for that damn LeBlanc. So, no matter what it takes, I am ready!"
Saying this, Riven took a deep breath and climbed out of bed. Under the pull of gravity, some of the viscous milk began to drip down from between her thighs, but Riven didn't care. She walked straight to Faen and said seriously, "Please help me."
"Naturally." Hearing this, Faen gave her a thumbs-up to show there was no problem.
Seeing this reaction, a smile touched the corner of Riven's mouth, but she quickly and clumsily pushed the overflowing milk back into her body and squeezed tight. Once finished, she sighed with a bit of helplessness. "Though I expected it, it seems that at least during our time in Ionia, I'm going to be thoroughly ruined by you."
"We should exercise a bit of restraint," Faen said caringly. "If you can't take it, tell me. I can slow down..."
If a "sweet and naive" girl like Seraphine heard such caring words, she would have been moved to tears, flying into Faen's arms to show her gratitude by going into heat. But Riven simply rolled her eyes.
"But then again, the Joy Factor rapidly replenishes energy and strengthens growth, so there's no such thing as 'not being able to take it.' You'll likely never stop; you'll just keep aggressively pumping me full of nutrients to speed up my recovery."
"As expected of a warrior, your intuition is sharp." Faen gave her another thumbs-up. Riven sighed and rubbed her forehead, but said no more. She glanced toward the door and began to dress. "Your little junior sister is coming to find you. Clean up quickly. Her heart is still full of beautiful fantasies about you... Sigh, I really don't understand why these innocent, kind girls are so eager to run to you. It's like they can't wait to be ruined and ravaged by you..."
After overcoming her confusion, Riven's mastery over her innate magic had reached a new level. While the increase in combat power wasn't blatantly obvious yet, the versatility of her magic had clearly grown.
The most prominent change was her perception of others' "battle-spirit"—of course, this spirit was essentially mana, just in a different form. Compared to the spellcasting mana wielded by a mage like LeBlanc, this mana leaned toward physical reinforcement, similar to Akali's.
And while Irelia currently practiced the Silk Dance and would one day wield the Blade Dance, it was still a form of battle-spirit, well within Riven's perception.
Faen reached out and manipulated flowing water to clean the room. By the time he had changed his clothes, Irelia's lively and cheerful voice came from outside.
"Senior Brother! Are you there? It's Irelia!"
"I could tell just from the voice," Faen called out from inside the room shortly after she spoke.
Opening the door, Irelia saw the familiar face of her Senior Brother. Standing in the room was Riven, busy tidying up the bedsheets.
Irelia didn't mind this at all. She had long since realized that the relationship between Riven and Faen was far more than just "guard"—she was also his personal close-servant!
On the way here, Riven would stay in Faen's tent every single night. Although Irelia went to bed early each day, every morning Riven's face would bear a look of exhausted labor, and yet she would still help fold Irelia's blankets afterward.
This made Irelia feel quite embarrassed, but Riven's reaction was always firm, refusing to let Irelia help with the chores. In Irelia's eyes, this was likely Miss Riven's way of showing favoritism and protection, taking over even her bed-tidying duties.
Though it was a bit helpless, in Irelia's impression, her Senior Brother was quite lazy when it didn't involve cultivation...
But thinking about it, Irelia didn't feel there was anything wrong with it. While Ionia spoke of equality, it was more an equality of character than status. Gaps in social hierarchy still existed in practice. For instance, Usan (Zed) had spent his first two years in the Order as a menial disciple doing dirty work, learning nothing but basic farming techniques.
As the eldest daughter of the Xan family and a prodigy of the Silk Dance, Irelia was gentle and polite, but she was still influenced by traditional Ionian social concepts.
With these thoughts, Irelia looked excitedly at Faen. "Senior Brother, Senior Brother! I've learned the Blade Dance you told me about!"