"Hi, Lancel."
Fiore lay in bed when he entered. She was noticeably weaker than before. Her blue hair was slightly unkempt, while her golden eyes held a tired gleam.
According to Countess Gretelle, Duchess la Blanc had instructed that she remain in bed for a week to avoid overexerting herself while she recovered.
"This is funny. There are two Lancels."
"...."
While she wasn’t completely out of it, the effects of Death Parallax were still there. She spoke normally, yet her perception remained distorted. She even ntioned that she was seeing two other won in the room.
But when Lancel glanced around, there was no one else.
At first, she had been afraid. But as the days passed, she seed to have grown used to it, treating what she saw less like a threat and more like sothing she could laugh off.
"By the way, Lancel."
"Yes?"
Fiore leaned closer, bringing her lips close to his ear. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I saw it."
"...."
"Your magic."
"...Uh?"
"Don’t worry," she continued. "I won’t tell anyone. Not even my Master. Thanks for saving ."
She leaned back with a small giggle. Lancel turned toward her with a serious look.
"How much did you see?"
That mattered.
If she had seen anything beyond that mont, if she could describe what happened after Nyarlathotep, then at least he would have sothing to go on.
"So ice," Fiore said, thinking for a mont. "And so light magic. I only caught a glimpse before I passed out completely. But still... that’s impressive."
"...."
"Ice, I can understand. Countess Lieber must’ve been teaching you in secret, right? But light... that’s different. And the structure of your spell wasn’t bad either. I’d usually say you should focus on one field, but in your case... You might actually have the talent for both."
That wasn’t exactly true.
Those spells hadn’t co from him. By now, Lancel had already confird that much. The calculations and the structure originated with the witches tied to the system, not him.
All he did was supply mana, enough to let the spell form through him before releasing it.
But still...
"And you didn’t see anything after that?"
"I don’t think so..." Fiore tilted her head slightly. "Why? Is there sothing you don’t want to see?"
"No, not exactly..."
"Hmm... Well, whatever the case, you’re pretty strong, huh? And here I thought you were soone I could just swat away."
Lancel pulled up the system as Fiore kept talking.
Unfortunately, no contract was ford with Fiore. Even so, it wouldn’t be right to say that nothing had co out of the entire incident.
After all...
────────────
Host: Lancel
Rank: Novice Witch
Level: 7
────────────
Primary Attributes
────────────
Strength: 6.6
Vitality: 4.0
Mana: 3.2
Agility: 6.0
Endurance: 6.1
Resonance: 1.3
────────────
The most surprising change was his endurance.
It had risen from 4.1 to 6.1.
Lancel stared at the number for a mont, already understanding why. Having his arm cut off, then pushing through it without stopping, the system had clearly recognized that.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Hm? Nothing." Lancel closed the system.
"Anyway, as I was saying..."
They continued talking after that, as if they had known each other far longer than they actually had.
"Lancel, let’s be friends from now on."
"Aren’t we already friends?"
Lancel answered without much thought.
Truthfully, he didn’t find Fiore unpleasant. If anything, she felt grounded in a way that stood out. It was easy to tell how much care Countess Gretelle had put into raising her, especially when compared to the other witches he had encountered.
That wasn’t to say she wasn’t strange in her own way.
She trusted too easily. The mont her suspicions were dismissed, she let them go just as quickly, giving her the impression of a naive girl.
But in a place like Riviere, that kind of trait felt... refreshing.
"Oh. You’re right."
Fiore paused, then continued.
"Then... do you rember what I said I’d do if I ever t a male witch?"
"Yes...?"
Lancel did rember.
"F-Forget about it..." Fiore turned her head away. "I was just saying that at the ti..."
Lancel looked at her.
For so reason, her ears were red.
* * *
"You’ve got a letter, Lancel."
Two days had passed since the incident, and ever since then, Lancel had remained inside his room under the pretense of studying magic.
"Lancel?"
There was still no answer.
After a mont, the sound of the door unlocking echoed.
Faust took it as permission and stepped inside. But the mont she took in the sight, she stopped.
"...."
Though not high, and only slightly lifted from their original positions, items were suspended all around the room, such as books, small objects, and scattered tools, all hovering in place.
At the center of it all, seated on the floor, was Lancel, his eyes closed, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"Telekinesis?"
It was the most basic neutral spell in a witch’s arsenal. Telekinesis had countless uses, from simple levitation to flight, to integrating it into more complex spell structures.
It was often called the bread and butter for magic. Without telekinesis, many advanced spells wouldn’t even be possible.
Lancel’s progress was strange.
It had only been a month since he started learning magic properly, and yet he was already attempting telekinesis. More than that, Faust hadn’t even taught him this.
The next mont, the objects suspended in the air dropped all at once.
Lancel let out an exhale, calming his breathing before opening his eyes. Only then did he notice Faust standing there.
"Sorry. I needed to finish the exercise."
"Why didn’t you ask to help you?"
"Well, you were busy. And I read that the process for telekinesis differs from witch to witch. So I figured your thod might not help much..."
That was true. The process of telekinesis did vary from witch to witch.
So activated it through visualization, forming a clear image in their mind before applying force to it.
Others relied on instinct, treating it as an extension of their own body as they moved objects the sa way they would move a limb.
There were even those who structured it through calculations, breaking down distance, weight, and direction before applying telekenesis.
There was no single correct thod. It depended entirely on the individual.
"I guess you’re right. Still, I could’ve given you so pointers, though."
Faust pouted. For soone her age, the expression felt oddly out of place, yet it was strangely endearing.
Still, she handed him the letter.
"Anyway, this ca for you. When did you get close to Ishtar?"
"We’ve ford so sort of friendship... I guess...?"
Lancel unfolded the letter. His brows furrowed as he read its content, before looking back at Faust, who was clearly expecting an answer.
"She’s inviting out for a picnic..."
"Huh?"
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