"And the lips?" Azel asked, raising a brow as Ira coughed nervously.
’I completely forgot about that.’ She thought, hopefully he wouldn’t think of her as weird for that...
"I thought..." she began, her cheeks coloring a bit, "your lips were much fuller."
Azel could tell that was a lie the mont she said it.
Ira was a perfectionist because of her ability... every stroke she drew, every line she inked followed what she rembered exactly.
And her mory was the best amongst the Heroines so she was able to rember things a lot better than regular people... Hell she barely forgot stuff.
If the lips in her drawings were fuller, then it wasn’t by mistake.
It was by choice.
He leaned back in his chair, giving her a teasing look.
"Right. Fuller, huh? Sure."
She looked away, pretending to straighten her dress, clearly avoiding eye contact.
’I’m not weird... I’m just a normal girl.’ She thought.
He chuckled softly. "Alright, let’s change the topic before you start sketching again. Don’t you have any plans on coming to the Academy?"
In the original tiline... the ga version of this world, Ira had gone to the Academy later, seeking strength and friendship.
It had seed like such a normal and innocent goal for an assassin, and it was perfect... Well if you ignored the fact that nobles still oppressed the commoners.
Even though the school claid to promote equality, nobles still looked down on anyone of lower birth.
He tilted his head, waiting for her answer.
"The Academy sounds nice," she said after a pause, "but only if I can go with Naelia."
"Both of you, huh?"
She nodded. "It’s not that I’m afraid, but... it would be easier if we went together and I don’t want her or Elizabeth to be lonely here. Still," she added with a proud little grin, "I’m progressing nicely with my magic."
"Oh?" he said, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. "Want to show ?"
Her eyes brightened instantly. "You want to see?"
"Sure."
He already knew what elent she had but who didn’t want to see a visual representation?
She smiled, not the shy one from before, but the confident grin of soone proud of their skill.
She stood up, and stepped away from the table carefully.
"Alright," she said confidently "Watch closely and be amazed."
Mana began to radiate from her body, it was fluid like a current of air.
But this wasn’t the shimring light-blue of regular mana neither was it the hot crimson mana of fire...
It glowed darkly and was translucent, rippling like liquid glass.
Azel’s eyes followed it, he already knew what her elent was... But seeing it in person made it more interesting.
’It looks like water... but it’s not,’ he thought.
The energy had a strange viscosity to it, like thick droplets that refused to evaporate.
"Crono says I’m one of the rare mages in this world," Ira said proudly, raising her palm as the mana flowed into a single large drop that hovered above them.
A droplet fell with a soft sound.
Plip.
When it hit the table, it didn’t vanish.
It spread like ink... staining the table in black.
Azel blinked. "That’s—"
"I have Ink Magic," she said with a smile.
For a mont, he just stared.
Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.
Of course.
He’d forgotten how perfectly that fit her.
The sa ability she had in the ga... the power that made her both beautiful and terrifying.
Her magic worked like art itself.
If she could draw it, she could bring it to life.
The creations were made of ink though so they were imperfect and weaker than the originals but functional and could be easily controlled and she could even make them capable of wielding their own abilities.
Of course she had died before getting to use it’s full power but it was overpowered as well...
She could draw a fire monster that breathed water.
A weapon that regenerated mid-battle.
There were so many things that could be done with imagination...
’Plot armor really is ridiculous,’ Azel thought with a sigh.
You couldn’t asure heroines by logic... their abilities always defied common sense.
"Can you make anything with the ink?" he asked.
Her eyes sparkled. "Anything I can picture."
The small puddle of ink on the table began to rise again, swirling in the air and gathering with the rest.
Slowly, it gathered into a ball in her hands, spinning in slow rotation like a miniature planet.
Azel watched silently as it began to take shape.
The ink smoothed itself into sharper lines, curves, and forms.
It was like watching a sculpture being molded out of clay.
First ca the outline of a face... it was a smooth symtrical face that looked familiar.
Then the details: eyes, nose, and lips.
The more she concentrated, the clearer it beca.
Soon, he realized what... or rather, who it was.
"...That looks like—"
"You," she finished softly, smiling with satisfaction.
The head was unmistakably his.
The ink shimred as it gained faint color... a silvery tone spreading across the features.
"You can give it color?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
In the ga’s tiline, she hadn’t gained that ability until much later... not until the third calamity.
Was there sothing pushing her to advance so fast here?
"Yes," she said, closing her eyes briefly as the transformation completed.
The black sheen faded into pale skin tones, the eyes turned crimson, and strands of silver hair began to sprout from the bald head, falling down in loose threads.
The result was uncanny... it was a floating replica of his head, made entirely of living ink and perfectly detailed.
Azel blinked, leaning forward. "It looks exactly like ..."
He paused, noticing sothing slightly off.
"...Well, except for the lips."
Ira opened one eye, then both, feigning surprise. "Oh?"
He gave her a dry look. "Yeah. They’re... fuller."
"Oh, my mistake," she said quickly, lifting her hand slightly.
The ink shimred again, and the lips shrank just a bit, returning to normal.
"Better?" she asked with mock innocence.
Azel’s expression didn’t change. "Right."
While it was a good example. He had to admit... Looking at his decapitated head was weird.
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