Chapter 174

Chapter 174
Chapter 174
## Chapter 174: Spiked Chair (3)

Anyone with a minimum of experience understands how terrifying the influence of the environment is. A young man of noble lineage pretending to be kind for a hundred days could develop an infamous character after wandering the suburbs for a couple of months, while someone who had lived in poverty all their life could suddenly become arrogant after becoming rich and ascending to high society. Human beings never manage to escape the weight of the environment; no one remains unchanging forever.

Derek understood this perfectly, yet he harbored a deep conviction regarding Sirine. That young woman, who evoked the image of snow freshly fallen on a winter wasteland, would perpetually carry the scent of blood that had permeated her heart… or at least, that was the belief he always held.

Until now, Sirine had shown herself to be unflappable, preserving her wild nature during her magical instruction without faltering. He even thought that, even if she were to integrate now into the aristocracy of Evelstain, the sharpness of her unique temperament would not fade… But Derek had drastically underestimated the power of youthful affection.

Romanticism is an instinct rooted in humanity, as natural as hunger after fasting or tiredness after a sleepless night. Furthermore, such feelings are highly contagious. Upon being immersed in the noble circle of Evelstain, it was inevitable that she would end up influenced by its atmosphere.

Even a girl who has only known an existence marked by violence can display rose-colored fantasies. No one would dare to judge it as a sin. At least, the Sirine who played nervously with her hands while sitting next to Derek reminded one more of an ordinary, embarrassed young woman than an executioner.

What would Melberot, who longed for Sirine to live as an ordinary noble lady, think upon witnessing this scene? It is difficult to guess. However, generally, a father’s perspective toward the man who has captivated his daughter’s heart is rarely cordial.

—Derek. This… could I hold your hand?

Sirine’s cheeks ignited as if that question were a transcendental confession for her destiny, setting a radical contrast with the beasts of the north who snatched lives with blank stares and covered in red. This is the young woman destined to kill without remorse, carrying her sins along a bloody path. Melberot’s yearning to see her as a normal aristocrat was being fulfilled in a way he never imagined.

—…

Derek blinked, feeling a brief instant of reflection dilate like an eternity. Observing her behavior, it seemed that Sirine herself questioned her feelings. Would it be more appropriate to reject her with determination? Or perhaps he should accept it with maturity and allow this emotional outburst to fade with time?

—I already sensed that something like this would end up happening.

As a renowned figure in aristocratic instruction, Derek was the most celebrated mentor in Evelstain. Each pupil under his direction possessed the capacity to shake the foundations of nobility. However, exercising his work in a female environment would inevitably lead to these kinds of situations. Although the bond between master and apprentice is sacred and noble, prolonged coexistence can lead to romantic feelings.

He had vaguely meditated on how to manage something like this, but never defined a clear strategy. Honestly, it is something human. Pondering narcissistic scenarios like “What if my student falls in love with me?” felt embarrassing to him. Vanity has its limits, and no one could reproach him for having postponed the resolution of such a dilemma.

However, current circumstances required action. Sirine Aleina Rocheste counts on the support and affection of two 6-star mages, a privileged position for any student of mystical arts.

However, excessive paternal love sometimes hides thorns. Derek did not feel entirely safe facing the icy gazes of two 6-star mages capable of reducing entire regions to ashes with a simple gesture.

Swallowing saliva with effort, Derek spoke softly: —Miss Sirine.

—I’m sorry, Derek. It’s strange. Lately, I have unusual thoughts… words escape my mouth without me being able to control them…

Suddenly, Sirine curled her legs, hugging her knees, her face lit up to her ears, before fanning herself frantically as if she were being suffocated by the heat. Her tone remained calm, similar to the fall of a snowflake. She almost never shows nervousness or euphoria, but at that moment she looked away without trying to flee the situation or divert the subject. Since her reaction was so transparent, Derek could not act as if he did not understand what was happening.

Ignoring the affection of a young woman in that way or simply reveling in her attention was not an option; Derek was a man of principles. However, those who develop feelings for others must be ready for direct honesty.

—Miss Sirine, do you harbor romantic feelings towards me?

—Hic!

Regrettably, Sirine was not prepared for such frankness. A question so direct hit her in the chest, leaving her breathless as if her throat were closing up. However, her primary instinct forced her to respond: —Of course I like you! It was you who rescued me from that tower!

—I am not referring to that kind of affection. I am talking about a romantic attraction. Surely you will have heard about it in high society gatherings.

—H-hyek!

In certain aspects, Derek was implacable. Maintaining an ambiguous stance that leaves things in the air is cruel, but his direct method possessed a brutality of its own that he did not end up weighing. Honest and resounding communication is, in the end, healthier. His genuine sincerity made any complaint irrelevant; he did everything for Sirine’s sake.

As the proverb points out, he who gives up first, loses. If she did not wish to be hurt, she should not have lowered her guard. Of course, Sirine could feel like the victim of an injustice, but that is reality.

—If those are your feelings, I cannot overlook them…

—What nonsense! Derek! You are too presumptuous! You get on my nerves acting like that…!

Unfortunately, even a girl who does not fear violence is still completely ignorant in matters of the heart. Her shouting interruption and her impulse to stand up were, without a doubt, an indirect confirmation. Overwhelmed by the situation, her mind no longer processed more information.

—I am very upset… I will go in now… Wait, forgive me if I called you arrogant… is it not something I should apologize for? I don’t know. Anyway, it’s not what you think…

—Miss Sirine, you should go in to rest.

—I will do that! You continue with your training!

After saying this, Sirine pressed her burning cheeks and fled in a hurry. Derek remained there, sitting in silence, watching how the snow began to cover the ground again. Be that as it may, what happens from now on depends entirely on her.

*

At dawn the next day, Kalimford showed up at the practice area with evident melancholy in his gaze. It seemed he had spent the night sunk in despondency. To Derek, a glance at his face was enough to understand everything. Sirine’s very evident reaction made it impossible not to notice. First love makes people extremely predictable.

—Let’s start today’s practice.

Kalimford seemed to be in another world, disconnected from reality. Derek sensed it: this session would take a personal turn. The resentment he perceived felt undeserved; Derek had not committed any fault.

Kalimford was also aware of this, so he avoided direct reproaches. However, emotions rarely align with logic. Kalimford’s aura seemed determined to test the man who had captivated his daughter. The young woman’s attitude was painful to him. It was as if Derek had already formalized a marriage proposal; an absurd situation from any objective point of view. Even so, Derek could not feel aversion for him, due to the complexity of the circumstances.

Crack! Hiss!
Kaboom!

It was the distinctive style of Kalimford: dragging his staff through the terrain while moving. He did not execute a single spell or isolated movement, but rather the magics followed one another at a speed that defied vision. The spells did not seem to require words, sprouting spontaneously. Although Derek’s detection skills surpassed those of a veteran sorcerer, the speed of the attacks was overwhelming; an ordinary mage would not have had time to react.

Whoosh!
Crack!

Derek drew his longsword with one hand and his dagger in an inverted position with the other, dodging the magical bursts. It was impossible to evade everything: the way Kalimford manipulated mana broke established rules. The pressure from the proximity was suffocating. Compared to their previous encounter, the intensity of the attacks was charged with evident emotion.

<>

Among those lethal spells, a spark of joy ran through his bones. Derek was back. He still had a world to discover and higher levels of magic to reach. The vibrant euphoria that arises in critical moments gradually enveloped him. Measuring himself against a six-star mage did not block him with fear, but fueled his ambition to improve himself. He was the type of individual who found delight in unraveling the very essence of magic.

6-star mages are usually aware of the immense responsibility that their power carries. Even before prepared opponents, they rarely display their real faculties. Now, each assault had a real weight: any blow that was not blocked could result in a serious wound. There was a certain confidence that Derek could handle it, yes, but after each movement, an unusual hostility was perceived.

Curiously, did Sirine really have a balanced difficulty? That thought crossed his mind while a stimulating tension ran through his arms. It was not usual for a mage of such caliber to take the confrontation so seriously. It resembled a real death match. Each clash felt renewing; they were not random attacks, but calculated movements that anticipated Derek’s actions to punish any error. Each block offered him a new understanding. Truly, an adversary with such marked hostility… is the best teacher!

An immense flow of knowledge flooded Derek’s consciousness. Mana arrows, shockwaves, stone thorns, magic blades, golem creation, illusions, freezing… From the first to the fourth circle, the variety of spells and power levels was overwhelming. Even the most basic spells hid a profound technique. While he made his way through the vegetation, Derek’s perception seemed to rise toward a distant peak, almost within his reach.

In the midst of this whirlwind of experiences, he felt that he touched a secret domain hitherto forbidden. Although it seemed unattainable, constant effort would pay off. A simple 4-star spell could never compete with the mastery of this veteran. It required reaching a new magical stratum to detect his weak points.

Boom!

An ice projectile struck Derek’s right side.

Splurt! Splash!
Crack!

Derek opened his eyes wide; the attack came from an angle he hadn’t even detected. He had studied how to fight by reusing the opponent’s mana and believed he was ready. However, for Kalimford, that type of manipulation was child’s play.

“Confusion magic… At least… 5 stars…!”

It was level 5 confusion magic: “Perception Adjustment.” It alters the target’s sensitivity to mana, camouflaging the spells. Some become totally undetectable. This formidable technique ensures victory against almost any opponent below the fifth circle, being practically impossible to neutralize. He supposed that Kalimford’s confusion magic was level 4, but the man had reached level 5, surpassing the barriers of conventional human capacity.

“I can do it… It’s possible…!”

But Derek’s gaze glowed. Since he learned from Katia, confusion arts had become one of his strengths. With this knowledge, he could be able to replicate a 5-star spell. In this duel to the limit against Kalimford, he finally caught a glimpse of a light of hope to achieve it. The revelation simply materialized in his mind…

Splash! Sprayer!

Blood began to flow intensely from the wound caused by the ice spear. The sudden hemorrhage clouded his vision. The blood loss was excessive for a training session; the flow seemed abnormal. The environment began to spin as Derek fell to his knees.

—Gasp…! Ugh…!

Even Kalimford seemed bewildered for an instant. Derek’s precise counterattacks had forced him to push the limits until he finally surpassed them. By assuming that Derek could contain any attack, he became careless.

“Damn it…!”

The ground under Derek was stained red. Although his passion for knowledge remained intact in his eyes, the loss of blood paralyzed his limbs beyond his will. Gritting his teeth, Derek tried to sit up to put his discovery to the test. He needed to feel that enlightenment he had just reached, and it had to be soon. His almost sick obsession with magic made him ignore the open wound.

—Ghk… Ghk…! Cough… More… I need more…

His tenacity, bathed in blood, was terrifying. A crimson and burning glow vibrated in his pupils, but his consciousness was fading gradually.

—Medical personnel! Have the medical team come immediately!

The subordinates ran toward Derek, who remained on his knees while the blood continued to flow. The servants rushed about in cold sweats while the nobles mobilized with urgency. The training area, previously serene, became a chaos of people. Just as Kalimford was preparing to speak…

—Derek!

A desperate scream from a young woman broke the air from her observation position. That known voice made everyone turn their gaze; she was already running quickly toward the center of the field.

—Derek! Derek! Are you okay? The blood…! There is too much blood!

Sirine arrived with a face distorted upon contemplating the severity of Derek’s injury. Although his eyes still flashed with the longing to apply what he had understood, his strength failed him. Slowly, his body ended up giving way.

—Derek…! Soon…! Take him right now…!

Pressing Derek’s wound, Sirine urged the servants with desperation. The qualified personnel prepared the transfer immediately after applying basic first aid. The magnitude of the damage exceeded what anyone would consider a simple practice accident. Then, she fixed her gaze on Kalimford. The coldness of her eyes was a faithful reflection of the frozen northern wastelands.

In all her existence, she had never felt such agitation. “…………” The legendary hero who had saved the kingdom was now covered by a cold sweat of pure anguish.