Chapter 138: A Hero's 'Sacrifice'
"A little Idrila, but unable to speak," Rekka murmured, his voice a silken whisper that seemed to hang in the air.
"Mr. Welt, allow me to offer you my praise!" Argenti declared, his voice ringing with chivalrous sincerity.
Welt, who had been in the middle of launching a powerful flying kick, froze mid-air. His body snapped into a rigid, formal salute as if pulled by invisible strings. He then dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, the impact sending a painful jolt from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head.
"Uncle Yang is hard-CC'ed!" March 7th cried out, her voice laced with a pained sort of amusement.
She watched, helpless, as Welt was bombarded with praise from both sides. One compliment from Rekka, another from Argenti, and the seasoned Trailblazer was rendered completely immobile, standing stock-still as if being punished by a teacher. The barrage of adulation was so intense that his grip on his cane faltered. His expression shifted rapidly from shock, to confusion, and finally to a vacant daze.
The two of them had praised him so relentlessly that Welt felt as if he had regressed to being little Joachim again, utterly bewildered and overwhelmed.
"Alas, what a pity," Argenti sighed, a hand pressed to his chest. "I am not a man of great eloquence and can only offer these simple praises from the bottom of my heart."
"Brother Rekka..." Stelle began, her voice trembling.
"I understand," Rekka said, his gaze shifting. "Next, allow me to introduce her to you."
He gestured gracefully toward March 7th and Stelle.
"This is my Trailblazer senior, March 7th!"
A wave of dread washed over March. "Oh my god," she whispered.
"Stelle, run!" she shrieked, already feeling the honeyed words beginning to paralyze her. Her voice cracked, taking on the edge of a sob.
Yet, it was as if Stelle's feet had grown roots, anchoring her to the parlor car floor. She looked at March 7th's face, which was already crumpling on the verge of tears, then glanced at Rekka and Argenti standing nearby. Gritting her teeth, she took a defiant step forward.
"I'm not leaving!"
Stelle's voice was firm. "Even though Senior March snores in her sleep, loves to grind her teeth, and sneaks into the kitchen at night to drink all the juice, and..."
A cross-shaped vein pulsed on March 7th's forehead.
"...But!" Stelle continued, her tone soaring with passion. "Senior March is to my heart what Idrila the Beauty is to you, Brother Argenti!"
March 7th blinked. "...?"
Wait, what?
"I see," Argenti said, his eyes shining with understanding. "Congratulations on finding your own Idrila, my brother."
Rekka's praise began to wash over March 7th in an unending tide, and she was so thoroughly coddled that she quickly lost all sense of direction.
"Stelle, go! Quickly!" March managed, forcing a tragic, heroic expression onto her face. "Let me be the one to bear this pain!" She turned to give Stelle a look of deep sacrifice.
"Re—really?" Stelle asked, scratching her head. "You look like..."
March 7th stood with her back poker-straight, her expression so grim it was as if she were marching to the execution grounds.
"Stelle, just go! Don't worry about me!" Her voice was thick with a determination that suggested she was ready to face death itself. "Protect Rozaliya and Liliya...!"
She couldn't continue, her words dissolving into a series of rhythmic, mood-appropriate sniffs.
Stelle stared at March 7th's resolute face, scratching her head again. "But March..."
"No buts!" March 7th cut her off decisively. "This is an order from your senior! Go!"
Stelle opened her mouth, then closed it. She scratched the back of her head, a nagging feeling telling her that something wasn't quite right. But faced with March's 'if I don't enter hell, who will?' posture, she couldn't find the words to argue.
"Then... then I'm really leaving?"
"Go, go!" March 7th waved her hand dismissively, a hint of impatience coloring her tone. For her, this was clearly a reward, not a punishment.
Stelle shuffled toward the corridor, looking back every few steps. Her golden eyes were filled with a newfound respect for March 7th, as if her senior was single-handedly holding a defensive line to prevent the destruction of the universe.
"March, you have to hold on!" Stelle clenched her fists and shouted heroically, before finally rounding the corner and disappearing from sight.
The moment she was sure Stelle was truly gone, March 7th's tragic expression instantly collapsed. The corners of her mouth curled up into a smile she couldn't suppress.
She turned her head, trying to force her expression back into a serious mask. "Alright, Rekka," she announced with faux bravado. "Do whatever you want!"
Meanwhile, Stelle had hidden herself behind the carriage door, peering through the gap with just her eyes visible. She had been worried that March couldn't handle the torture of the two praise-monsters and had crept back to see if she could help.
And what did she see?
Not only was there not a trace of pain on March 7th's face, but she was smiling from ear to ear. She was completely immersed in Rekka's praises, looking as pampered and content as a cat in a sunbeam. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her toes occasionally tapping the floor, looking as if she'd been soaked in a vat of honey.
March has completely fallen!
The situation was far worse than Stelle had imagined.
Argenti stood to the side, watching the scene with moved eyes. His lips trembled slightly as if he wanted to speak, but he ultimately held his tongue. He quietly took two steps back, then another two, disappearing soundlessly around the corner of the corridor.
By Idrila, he thought, what a pure and beautiful emotion.
March 7th didn't notice Argenti's departure at all. The corners of her mouth kept twitching upwards, and she tried desperately to press them down, repeating the motion several times before finally giving up entirely. She leaned into Rekka's personal space, her voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz. "You... keep talking... I'm listening."
Her mind was now completely filled with Rekka's praises and "confessions."
"Sister Himeko!"
Stelle gestured wildly, her movements exaggerated and her eyes teary as she stood before the Astral Express's navigator.
"March has fallen! Uncle Yang and Dan Heng are down too! Even Pom-Pom got praised into a system crash!"
Himeko looked at the frantic, red-eyed Stelle, momentarily confused. "Stelle, take a breath first. Don't worry, tell me slowly. What do you mean 'fallen'? What happened to Welt and Dan Heng? And what's wrong with Pom-Pom?"
"It's terrifying! Sister Himeko, you have no idea!" Stelle gasped. "Rekka is on the Path of Beauty today! He's turned into an invincible praising machine! Anyone he praises loses their sense of direction and gets stun-locked in place just to listen to him..."
Himeko nodded thoughtfully.
"And then?" she guided gently. "What does this have to do with Uncle Yang and the others?"
"It has everything to do with them!" Stelle stamped her feet in anxiety. "Dan Heng was praised so much he can't even walk straight! Uncle Yang tried to stop Rekka, but he got flanked and praised until he was standing at attention! Pom-Pom had it the worst—he was praised until his conductor hat started smoking!"
Stelle grew more agitated as she spoke, grabbing Himeko's sleeve. "Now it's March! She stayed behind to draw their fire so I could retreat! When I ran over, I looked back, and she was in such a miserable state! Sister Himeko, we have to go save her!"
"Alright," Himeko said, a faint smile touching her lips as she stood up. "Let's go see."
At that very moment, at the other end of the corridor, the atmosphere was the diametrical opposite of the "miserable state" Stelle had described.
"Um... Rekka," March 7th said, trying to make her voice sound less cheerful. "What did you say my eyes were like just now? I didn't quite hear you."
"Lakes in early spring," Rekka stated. "Bright gemstones."
"Oh, stop, it's not that exaggerated~" March chirped, though she was so dizzy with delight that she felt like she was about to sprout pink, bubbly flowers. She took half a step closer and looked up at him.
"Then... do you think my photos look better, or do I look better?"
It was a classic trap question, but for today's Rekka, it was a free point.
"Photos record beauty," Rekka's answer was forceful and without a hint of hesitation. "But you—you are beauty itself!"
He's really good with words today... March thought, her heart fluttering.
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