Reincarnated into a Snow Griffin Chapter 67

I may have agreed to give him one hour, perhaps thinking and almost convinced that this human would get bored in no ti and leave be eventually, and dreaded the fact that my already packed day has been just added another compromise, only that, in no mont whatsoever did I agree to give him attention in this hour we would spend together.

And he soon enough ca to realize just how full of flaws the terms of his agreent were when for the next week I simply picked up my book, sat on the stone, and read the entire hour we were bound to stay together by my own word only to leave as silently as I have co.

So while the birds chirped, the wind howled and the leaves flustered, I ignored his words and studied and ditated like I used to do when he wasn’t there, only dreading the fact that I could not train my wings for a while, at least until my search for a new hidden place bear fruit or this human gave up bothering .

It took longer than I thought, but in the end he did stop his futile attempts to talk to , and yet for so strange reason he did not seem fazed by it at all, or rather, the more I pushed him away and tried to avoid him the more he seed willing to chase .

I could only wonder what strong interest he had that propped him this much, after all no matter how much knowledgeable and mature I was for my age I could not think of him having such... adult interests at a tender age like this, I an he looks a little older, early teens, and I look just a little younger than him since I evolved level wise and since magical beast grew far quicker than humans just like animals are adults with only one year of age, and yet I still had a little bit of baby fat on my face, but I guess with the veil it is hard to keep track of such little things, especially when I behaved in such a matured way, too akin of my real age.

Perhaps it had sothing do to with that Reincarnated title as well... I may have not fuzed about it much since I did not have any mories of it, but the fact that it was described as having a greater connection with my past lives, there must be so sort of consequences, like the Bookworm title.

Still... small blessings were given when he finally shut up and, for once, I could fully concentrate on my book, even more when he does not co to et the next couple of days, and as soon as I started thinking that I had finally gotten rid of him he cos back around the bushes, making sigh internally, not acknowledging his presence as I put more effort into staring at the book in front of .

I manage to give him a small peek to see if he was fine when he is not looking, but once his eyes et mine my gazes shots straight back down to the pages, unable to focus as I wonder why did he co back? And why did he leave in the first place? Not that it matters anyway.

And yet, to my surprise, he does not co running back to , does not say anything, does not even acknowledge at all beyond giving a dimpled smirk, and steadily moves up with a straight front and goes to the middle of the clearing.

I try to ignore him and the strangeness in his behavior, but find myself curious as to what this strange little rascal is up to.

And I discover that his next actions do catch my attention more than his words would do for he suddenly starts speaking with his body as he, in a single swift move, unsheathes his sword out, making the long silver blade glimr with the touch of the sunlight rays, hypnotizing enough so that, the next few monts, I found myself staring at his moves and flustering sleeves, the book forgotten on my lap, for I may have heard or known about the martial arts sect proficiency in the arts, but I have never seen soone move their body the way he did now.

His exchanges are so nimble that it looks as if he is engaged in a deadly dance with his sword, the whole body twisting and turning to not only compensate each and every move and maintain his equilibrium but to maximize every attack power to the maximum.

I could not take my eyes away, and at so point I could almost see the outline shape of his enemies being decimated and obliterated by each fatal wound his accurate aim would slash at.

It was devastatingly beautiful.

I won’t deny that seeing him like this, pass his goofy little devil play, was a shock to , for so reason I had taken him to be a lazy good for nothing and yet here he is proving wrong for soone needed to train twice as hard to get at the level he already is at this age.

I do not notice that I had not given the book a second glance from beginning to the end of his practice, enchanted by his deadly precise moves, and the realization cos once he finishes his first set of moves and locks eyes with once more, heavy breathing and sweating and looking stunningly beautiful once he gives a full dimple smile when he notices that I had been watching him this whole ti.

He knew he had managed to catch my attention this ti around, knew as much as I that, the mont I showed the smallest amount of interest, that I was dood, for this little rascal was as stubborn as it ca... and his mischievous yet knowing chuckle told that I had the full interest and attention of such creature set on .

And any response, as smallest as it could have been, would only ignite his already ablaze flas.

I want to sigh, to get furious, to roll my eyes at him, but in the end I just go back to staring at the book, still too out of it to really read its contents especially when his chuckle grows into a small laugh with my reaction, or rather, forced lack of, knowing all too well the effects his little presentation had on .

The devil himself he is.

"Shut up." I say, not too loud.

"Oh, he speaks ladies and gentlen!" He says, making a commotion out of nothing, and soon regretting saying any words at all I force my eyes to stay glued to the words on the paper until they blurred together, and even as I catch movent in front of I forced myself not to look until I was once more on track and studying the instructions.

But, of course, these would not be the first nor the last tis he would tempt into drifting away from my studies, and as much as this one hour pained I still went there everyday... and I cannot deny that, like a pet owner, I grew used to his company enough so that, every ti he went out on a mission and would stay days away, I would still look at the place where the grass did not growl because of his footwork marked the place constantly in his own training routine.

Things went calmly as such for a while, with the occasional poking of his, and it was befitting that, for one creature like myself, born when the last snow from winter hit the ground, that matters would really change when the first snowflakes started to flow in the wind once more, ti flowing as quickly as sand between the fingers.

Most did not care or acknowledge such fact for ti... ti is a mortal’s worry, and for cultivators it was only a ans to an end, aningless, making so most did not hurry or put any effort into cultivating as much as I do, no hurry in their studies.

However, for , every day is an agonizing addition to my mother’s suffering and my own, and yet neither or her were able to stop the flow of ti, so it just... slips through my fingers, one day at a ti, until winter cos by and months pass by.