The sound of hooves echoed through the morning mist as the carriage rocked gently along the path to Roa.
Of the four carriages that had set out the night before, only three remained.
Given their limited numbers, losing one carriage shouldn't have posed a problem—four people per carriage would fit just right. That was Philip's suggestion, anyway.
But it was that exact suggestion that sparked the quarrel between Rudeus and Eris.
People tend to get emotionally volatile after major upheavals.
Whether it was the sudden assassination attempt, adrenaline flooding their systems, or Allen returning with two heads in hand—his survival spiking everyone's dopamine levels—there was no doubt their moods were soaring and unstable, floating high above reason.
And when reason falters, conflict follows easily.
Eris insisted on riding with the catgirl, Ghislaine, Sylphy, and Allen—shouting that she needed to learn how to catch arrows barehanded from her new teacher.
Rudeus, on the other hand, was adamant that he, Sylphy, Allen, and Ghislaine should ride together. His killing rage hadn't fully cooled, and he was beyond fed up with constantly being left behind. To his own surprise, he ended up engaging Eris—the "brat" in his eyes—in a detailed debate.
Stuff like:
"I already got pushed out once when we boarded last night. Shouldn't you, the noble lady, be riding with your father?"
"You think you can learn anything in such a short carriage ride?"
"You think you can master Allen's [Flow] technique in a single trip?"
To be fair, the catgirl had been under Philip's orders to deliberately nudge Eris into pushing Rudeus out of the carriage—to keep the "kidnapping scenario" moving as planned.
But now that carriage assignments were being restructured, Rudeus had to seriously consider whether this was going to be the third time he missed his shot.
Come on! Allen, Sylphy, Roxy, and I—we're the actual adventuring party here!
And you, young lady—who even are you?!
And so—
Allen's carriage ended up carrying six people.
And somehow…
It still felt perfectly reasonable.
Allen, Sylphy, and Rudeus occupied one side. Allen and Sylphy were squeezed into the corner, watching Rudeus across from them—his face caught somewhere between an anime grimace and a magical burn-the-rope type of scowl—trading barbs with Eris.
On the opposite bench sat the catgirl, Ghislaine, and Eris. Eris was perched on Ghislaine's lap, looming over Rudeus with theatrical authority, gesturing wildly as she argued.
Before they got in, Allen had wanted to intervene. But he quickly realized—
There was no damn point in trying!
The more he tried to mediate, the faster the two exploded.
One grabbed Sylphy's sleeve. The other clung to Ghislaine's arm.
They shoved their way in like rival shoppers on a Black Friday sale.
Then they turned, in unison, to find Allen standing outside the carriage, frozen mid-step—expression blank.
At that moment, Allen's instincts screamed:
If I move now… I might actually die.
So he spread his arms, and let the two factions drag him onboard like an unwilling peace offering.
What else could he do?
Equal opportunity suffering.
Which brings us to now: Allen, utterly resigned, watched Rudeus and Eris fling verbal darts at each other. Ghislaine held Eris in place like a mom cradling her favorite hellhound, letting her rant in that ever-upward inflection she used when fired up—soaring to crescendo.
Sylphy sat quietly, head down. She had already dried her hair with a puff of Wind Magic. Her gaze drifted to her knees, subtly counting how many times they bumped together with the carriage's motion.
She still sat beside Allen.
After a cold, rainy night, spring's morning chill lingered in the air. With her elven blood, Sylphy had little body fat—she could clearly feel the warmth radiating from Allen's knee beside hers.
The carriage jostled. Their knees brushed, then swayed apart, only to meet again.
But her upper body remained stiff, angled away from Allen just enough that a fist could fit between them.
Then—
"Shut up! I wanna learn right now!"
Eris's sharp voice pierced the air.
Sylphy blinked, stopped counting.
Eris's brash tone reminded her of something: This girl knew exactly what she wanted. She wasn't afraid to say it, and more importantly, to act on it.
That was something Sylphy lacked.
And oddly enough, no one seemed to mind Eris being like that.
The very next moment, as if to contradict Sylphy's budding admiration, Rudeus fired back in a snide tone:
"Oh~ and how are you gonna do that, Your Ladyship? Gonna talk your way into mastering [Flow]?"
Sylphy winced.
She glanced at Rudeus, then looked up at Allen's face.
He was shaking his head, clearly exasperated, but there was no irritation in his expression. In fact… he was smiling. A faint one.
A teasing one.
She looked down.
And came to a quiet conclusion:
Allen doesn't dislike this kind of thing.
And that was enough.
After only a moment of hesitation, she relaxed her stiff posture entirely.
Not just her knees—
Her whole body swayed with the rhythm of the carriage.
Shoulders, legs, thighs, knees—leaning gently into Allen with every jolt of motion.
Warmth.
It made her feel like she had made her own small, silent request.
…Okay, maybe she hadn't voiced it out loud.
But she had acknowledged it.
And that counted, didn't it?
She remembered something Allen had once said—back when she told him she missed Roxy.
In this world, you can't bridge the distance between people with anything but time. Carriages are slow, letters take ages. Once you part from someone, it's hard to meet again.
So treasure the now.
Hold on to the "now" you want to keep.
Every single one.
The wheels turned. Wind slipped through the carriage window, lifting her hair. Through the strands, she saw Allen's hand resting on his knee.
Close—almost brushing against hers.
If I just reached out, I could take it.
Sylphy blinked slowly.
And finally understood.
Why the idea of "parting" had made her cry so hard earlier.
Of course she was worried about Allen's safety.
But after that?
After that, it was because—
She hadn't gotten the chance to hold onto her "now."
The carriage continued to sway.
Until Sylphy's hand slid gently toward Allen's, almost of its own accord.
At that very moment—
The argument across from them hit its peak. Rudeus and Eris were practically shouting at lightspeed.
"You're so arrogant! Ghislaine said I have talent in swordsmanship! She also said Allen has talent! So why can't I learn Allen's sword style?! And look at him—he's not saying a word! That face means he agrees with me!"
Allen: That's not what I meant at all!!
"He agrees with you? With what? That expression means he's mocking you!"
Allen: Can you not make things up?!
Allen opened his mouth to clear things up before the fire burned him, but Rudeus had already charged ahead:
"You think you've got the talent to learn [Flow] just by sitting in a carriage? You think Allen learned [Flow] in a blink of an eye? You don't even understand what talent is! I'll show you what it means!"
Rudeus suddenly lunged—grabbing Allen's hand and yanking it up.
"Look! Look at the calluses on Allen's hands! Talent is just a spark, a flash of inspiration—but to keep that spark alive, you need relentless, day-and-night effort! If you don't work for it, how are you going to turn that talent into reality?!"
Eris furrowed her brow, her flame-red eyebrows rising sharply. She turned to Ghislaine.
The latter gave Allen's hand a glance, then nodded.
"True."
Eris sprang off Ghislaine's lap and stomped over to Rudeus.
"Lemme see! Hmm… Yeah, they're thick. Almost like Ghislaine's."
"Right?!"
"Guess you're not totally useless after all!"
"…Huh? What?"
"What 'what'? I was complimenting you. Got a problem?"
"Who the hell compliments people like that?!"
Sylphy stared blankly, then looked at Allen's face.
His expression was twitching wildly, but he wasn't pulling away.
She blinked again.
"…Can I see too?"
Then—before Allen could react—she gently picked up his other hand, placing it on her knee as she studied it quietly.
As they all took turns inspecting Allen's hand, Rudeus finally blinked, as if just waking up.
Wait. Why am I suddenly inspecting Allen's hand alongside Eris like we're best friends?
He sensed a stare.
Turned his head.
Ghislaine.
He blinked, looked up and down at her intimidating figure, swallowed hard, and quickly let go of Allen's hand.
Then carefully said:
"Um… You're Ghislaine, right? I… I'm Rudeus Greyrat. Nice to meet you."
Eris looked over. Ghislaine nodded.
"I know. Paul's son. Just call me Ghislaine."
"Got it. Ghislaine."
At that moment, Eris suddenly realized—she'd never properly introduced herself to Allen.
She turned toward him, arms crossed, and declared:
"I'm Eris Boreas Greyrat! I permit you to call me Eris!"
Allen looked at her, amused.
"Okay, Eris."
She nodded, very pleased.
"What's your name?"
"Allen."
"Obviously. But just Allen? What's your surname?"
Rudeus, who had been about to keep chatting with Ghislaine, immediately turned toward Allen. So did Ghislaine and Sylphy.
Allen simply smiled.
"No surname. Commoners in the Asura Kingdom don't have one—just a given name."
"…Oh, I see."
Rudeus and Sylphy exchanged a look. Then Rudeus turned back to Ghislaine.
"I heard you used to be in my parents' adventuring party?"
"I was."
"We left in a hurry, so my father didn't get to see you. He asked me to pass on a message."
Rudeus hesitated, coughed lightly.
"He said… Allen's his disciple, so please don't get any funny ideas. He's just 'loaning' him to you for a couple days."
The carriage went dead silent.
Then—shing!—the sound of a sword half-drawn.
Allen and Rudeus both flinched for very different reasons.
Allen lashed out with a swift kick to Rudeus's shin.
"Wait, wait! He followed it up with another line!"
The blade slid back into its sheath.
"Speak."
"He said—'Just kidding. I bet you were about to draw your sword.' Then he added: 'Allen is someone both I and Zenith deeply care about. Please guide him well in swordsmanship. He has talent—not just in Water God Style. And Rudeus, take care of him too, please.'"
Allen's face softened. He looked a little moved.
Ghislaine glanced at him, then turned the conversation.
"Speaking of Water God Style—there is a genius I know of."
Allen raised an eyebrow.
"At the Water God Style's main dojo, there's a young swordswoman who was promoted to Saint-tier at a very young age. They even granted her a title."
Allen blinked.
Main dojo? That must be Isolte, that brat. So she's Saint-ranked now? Makes sense, she was always talented…
Just as he was about to respond, Eris turned toward him.
"Allen, what's a title?"
"Uh… It's like a nickname tied to a swordsman's style. It's usually passed around by word of mouth, but sometimes a dojo officially bestows it."
"What's your title?"
"Uh… I don't have one."
Eris's eyes widened. She turned to Ghislaine.
"What? So that girl might be stronger than Allen?!"
Ghislaine was silent for a moment.
"Maybe."
"Huh?! What's her title?! What's her name?! Get her to duel Allen—if Allen wins, she should hand over her title!"
Allen's mouth twitched as he stared at Eris's indignant face, unsure what to say.
Then Ghislaine calmly spoke:
"Water God Style, main dojo."
"Allen Boreas Greyrat."
"Title: Bedrock."
The carriage fell into silence.
Sylphy and Rudeus both turned to Allen in unison.
Eris, however, was confused.
"Boreas… Allen?"
Ghislaine looked at her.
"Roa's Boreas family. Fourth son of James, the heir apparent. Your… distant cousin."
Eris looked even more baffled.
"Then why is he just 'Allen'…"
She looked up at him.
Allen had turned away at some point, leaning against the carriage window, chin in hand, watching the view.
Outside, the city gates of Roa were already coming into sight.
Morning wind carried his emotionless words back into the carriage.
"What a coincidence… Same name as me."
"Lucky guy."