Scroll 62: Bloodshed… Or Not?
While Alaster rested with his eyes closed, Deinderatrix gazed down at him, her upper body draped over his chest while the rest of her lay across the mattress. She seemed to want to engrave every detail of his face into her memory, tracing her finger delicately over the elf's skin.
"Do you really have to leave?" Alaster asked in a calm voice.
The mage wrinkled her nose, letting out a defeated sigh.
"Yes... and I really don't want to, sweetheart. But those cultists are extremely dangerous."
She sat up and slid out of the bed. Stripping off her nightgown, she walked quickly toward a wooden wardrobe. She pulled out a similar garment, stepped back a few paces, and with a light flick of her wrist, made the entire piece of furniture float without even touching it.
The wooden structure hovered in the air, glided toward a corner of the room, and sank directly inside the magic bag where she stored her belongings.
The elf watched her from the bed, still a bit breathless.
"That spell seems really useful," he commented, watching the mage point toward another piece of furniture.
A full-length mirror began hovering toward the corner.
"This isn't a spell, handsome. It's an inherent manifestation: telekinesis," she clarified, moving another piece of furniture from across the room without needing to step any closer.
Alaster observed her slender arms. This girl with her voluptuous curves was moving heavy objects with terrifying ease, and what caught his attention most was that she wasn't chanting a single incantation.
"I have an idea," the elf said, hopping out of bed in a hurry before she decided to throw the mattress into her bag with him still on it.
The mage turned around to look at him.
"What idea, handsome Al?"
Alaster approached wearing only his trousers. As he walked toward her, he noticed her scanning him up and down with a slow smile, and he even caught the faint sound of her swallowing hard.
"What if you leave the documents and the news about the cultist to the guys heading to Sibar? That way we can deepen our love."
Detrix looked at him with that melting, mischievous smile that seemed to say don't tempt me. She closed the distance between them and reached her hands out, but paused right as she got close.
Standing right in front of her was a true, half-naked elven god. For a moment, she doubted reality, wondering if she had fallen out of bed, landed on the floor, and was currently bleeding out from her head, hallucinating right before dying.
She gave her own hip a discreet pinch.
"Ouch!" she whispered, quickly suppressing her squeak.
No, this wasn't a dream or a final death hallucination.
Alaster looked at her with curiosity. "Can't you do that?"
She stepped a little closer, closing the distance cautiously.
"Can I... hug you?"
The elf raised an eyebrow. «Why is she acting so reserved all of a sudden?» he wondered, though he answered out loud:
"Of course. Remember, I'm yours," he added with a playful tease.
Her face flushed instantly as she recalled what she had blurted out in the heat of the moment.
"Don't... don't get any weird ideas, handsome. I'm not usually like that... that was just in the moment!"
Alaster raised a hand to gently interrupt her.
"I was just joking. Of course you can. In fact, that's why I'm saying it'd be better if the girls notify the guild about that evil guy who worships Crame. That way I can stay with you longer."
She shook her head as she stepped closer.
"No," she said. "I have to do it personally. It's an affair that shouldn't be delegated."
Her tone sounded serious, but her hands were tracing smooth, deliberately slow paths across various spots on Alaster's abdomen.
"We'll have plenty of time once you reach Sibar."
Alaster noticed that even though her words sounded firm, the mage was hanging around his neck, staring straight at him with puppy-dog eyes. He lowered his head; she rose up on her tip-toes with her bare feet, and their lips met in a kiss.
Alaster gripped her by the waist and pulled her body tight against his, feeling the heat radiating from her. The curve of her lower back, right before reaching her firm rear, felt sensational.
"Stay..." he murmured against her lips.
She let out a small gasp of pleasure. Her soft neck smelled of flowers, and her fair skin reacted instantly to the touch of his kisses, shivering with every caress.
"Yeees..." she whispered in bliss.
"Yes?" the elf asked.
"Nooo... ahh, no," she corrected herself.
"No?" Alaster asked, feigning confusion.
His hand pressed firmly between her legs, making her lose her balance for a fraction of a second. She was soaking wet again.
«At least one part of her definitely wants to stay,» the elf thought. But he immediately stopped and let go of her.
The girl stopped moaning, looked at him bewildered, and protested:
"What? Why are you stopping?"
"Nothing... I just think you're going to be late," he denied.
She looked ready to punch him.
"Didn't you want me to stay?!"
"I did, but I'd feel guilty for dragging you away from your work."
She turned around, utterly indignant. "You are an incomprehensible idiot!"
She stomped toward the door, but a hand quickly caught her by the waist to halt her retreat.
"Don't leave without one last kiss," Alaster whispered into her ear. "Thanks for this moment."
He turned her around with gentle strength and kissed her on the lips. Right after, he asked:
"So... how do you do telekinesis?"
She smiled just inches from his face. Alaster could see the devouring expression in her dark eyes and that dazed smile that exposed a woman completely head over heels in love.
He pulled her tight against him and whispered, "I love the idea of getting to know you better."
Alaster heard Deinderatrix's heart race like a runaway horse. Her eyes snapped open, her body quivered slightly, and as the elf stepped back, she cleared her throat to cover her fluster.
"Ahem, ehem... We'll have to wait."
The elf glanced around the room. There wasn't a single piece of furniture left.
«Right, so you're leaving and ditching me...» he thought, though he chose not to say it out loud, fully aware of how it would sound.
After all, they were just starting something and didn't know each other well enough yet.
«I think she's better than she tries to act... or am I just focusing on the good stuff and ignoring the red flags?» he questioned himself silently.
Deinderatrix walked over to her remaining luggage and pulled out an object.
"Take this, handsome Al. I'm sure you'll be needing it."
She placed a leather satchel the size of a crossbody bag into his hands. He looked at it with a raised eyebrow.
"It's a magic bag," she explained. "Well, a dimensional pouch. You can fit hundreds of items inside."
"That's really not necessary..." Alaster began to say.
She placed a finger over his lips to hush him.
"Sshh. It's a gift from your girlfriend, a token for our meeting," she said, resting a hand on her own waist. "I won't take no for an answer. I'm giving it to you with affection."
Her gaze held a softness that contrasted with her usual fiery demeanor.
Alaster examined the leather strap designed to hang from the shoulder or belt. To the naked eye, it didn't look like it could store much, but he knew how these items worked.
«My dimensional space is already growing and my inventory is massive,» he thought. Unfortunately, he couldn't reveal his secret to her just yet.
"Thank you, sweetheart," the elf said.
The word felt a bit strange in his throat. «Having more than one girlfriend is weird. I feel unfaithful, though I guess I already stepped onto this path the moment I decided to live with Mila.»
He snapped out of his thoughts as he saw Deinderatrix leaning over her luggage, reorganizing her things.
"Tsk, unreal. I feel like less and less fits in here every time," the mage sighed. "Alright, sweetheart, I'm going to take a bath before I leave."
"Wait..." Alaster stopped her. "I'm curious about how you move things without touching them. That's a high-level skill, and you do it without a spell construct."
She smirked.
"No, handsome Al of my life, it's not a spell. It's a latent power," she explained, shifting her weight onto one leg and raising a finger to her lips thoughtfully. "It runs on mana... but it's a secret among mages. In theory, it's difficult to master—very useful, though somewhat costly if the object is huge."
"If you can't tell me, I understand," the elf said, throwing his hands up.
She smiled and stepped closer, her voice turning silky.
"I can tell you, but you'll have to pay a very high price."
"What price?" he asked, feeling her hands caress the back of his neck.
"You just have to do things a real boyfriend would do. You know... going out together to public places."
Alaster frowned. «A high price? That sounds pretty normal.»
"What do you mean, exactly?"
The girl leaned in and kissed him sweetly.
"Just going out together and meeting my family one of these days..." she murmured, pressing herself against his body.
The elf felt every curve of her anatomy against his own.
"Why do you make that sound so hard?"
"It's not hard in that sense, it's just that they're extremely overbearing," she smiled, stepping back. "Ah, Al... no matter what they tell you, do not accept food or drink from them. Just that. If you're willing... I can teach you."
«That doesn't sound good at all, but I guess meeting my girlfriend's family is inevitable,» the elf thought.
"Sure, no problem with meeting your family."
The girl's face lit up for a second before she regained her composure.
"Alright, pretty Al of my life. What you need to do is concentrate mana behind your head, right at the nape of your neck. Then you'll be able to move objects with your mind. Your mind drains mana at a rate depending on the object's weight. The good thing is you don't need a spell ring; the bad thing is if you overuse it, you'll get a killer headache. No chanting required."
The girl gave him an affectionate look, kissed him quickly, and added:
"I'm going to take that bath now, handsome. I expect you outside to see your girlfriend off."
She walked off, hips swaying as she crossed the threshold, but paused right before leaving. She turned back to look at him as if trying to soak in his image with her dark eyes, bit her lower lip, and walked away with a heavy sigh.
The elf was left alone, looking around the empty room.
«Where's my shirt?»
His other clothes were gone too. He was literally wearing nothing but his trousers.
Minutes later, after leaving the windows open to air out the room, he shut the door. Just as the wood clicked shut, he heard a tiny squeak—like a startled mouse—followed by a strange thump.
He turned around in alarm and saw Pina pressed flat against the hallway's wooden wall, staring at him with wide eyes while stammering a greeting:
"H-H-Hello..."
The elf looked at her and followed the young girl's gaze straight down to his bare chest.
"Hello. Heh, I'm going to go put some real clothes on. Sorry about the show."
Alaster walked quickly down the corridor, leaving Pina behind.
The girl let out the breath she had been holding and stared at the door he had just exited. Her mind immediately began connecting the dots.
«He... was in...»
Her head felt like it was emitting smoke.
«Were they doing the things Miss Remis explained to me? No... elves don't do that. They're gentle and peaceful... right?»
A fantasy crossed the young girl's mind, imagining Alaster stepping closer to her to say: Pina... I like you. Ever since our lips met, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.
Back in reality, the girl crouched down in the hallway, a deep blush covering her cheeks as a burning heat washed over her face. She buried her face in her hands.
«No, no, stop dreaming! It's like Dad used to say: "Pina, stop dreaming or the potatoes will burn"... though I guess that wasn't advice, it was a scolding.»
Alaster changed his clothes, selecting black trousers, boots, and a matching shirt. Having no other dark trench coat on hand, he settled on a deep brown duster.
He inspected himself in the mirror.
«Perfect. Gear fit to wait for the hero to show up and hand him a Game Over,» he thought. «Unless I dress like a peasant, anything remotely stylish gives me a villainous vibe. I don't get where it comes from.»
He narrowed his eyes. His iridescent irises shimmered in the room's dim light. He smirked at his reflection and caught himself off guard.
«Too handsome. How do I have this much charm? It's crazy.»
He looked closer. «Though these eyes... I really do look a little evil.»
He forced himself away from the mirror.
«If I look this good... why do I feel like girls run away emotionally the moment they enter a relationship with me? Is it just coincidence? Bah, who cares! Better drown my sorrows... well, not in alcohol, but in magic. High-tier magic and now telekinesis.»
He stepped out into the hallway fully dressed after a quick wash.
Heading down the stairs to the ground floor, he found Syrus sitting alone on a sofa with a bored expression, his travel bag resting beside him.
Alaster walked over to the table, picked up a book, and slumped comfortably into a nearby armchair. Throwing his boots onto the coffee table, he glanced at the tank.
"Hey, Syrus. What do you think?" he asked, pointing toward his own back.
The tank looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about, alcoholic elf?"
Alaster smiled with dry irony. "Nothing, just wanted to know if you can still see the knife mark from the backstab you gave me, you bastard."
The tone was friendly, but the grievance was real.
The tank sat up straight with a nervous grin.
"Haha... Al... it's just that they knew too much. It seemed like they knew everything, honestly. I think they were just looking for confirmation." Syrus shrugged and continued: "Besides, man, you didn't actually do anything. I mean, flirting with a girl might make you look like a playboy, but..."
The tank lowered his voice and leaned forward.
"I made sure to emphasize how admirable it is to have the willpower to stop yourself when there's a six-foot blonde with a killer body, right there, available and eager. Don't think I'm a bad friend; I did the best I could in that situation. Besides... they made it clear they knew what I almost did yesterday with that card game. Good thing I walked away from the gambling table, because somehow they got the scoop."
Alaster squinted at Syrus, analyzing him carefully. He didn't seem to be lying.
He wondered if Norde was the girls' informant; that town mayor definitely had the look of someone who thrived on local gossip.
He opened the book and began reading. It was the grimoire for Glacial Wall, though it wasn't strictly limited to raising barrier walls; it could be applied to any large-scale structure crafted from ice. According to the instructions, by visualizing the final result and letting mana flow slowly, one could achieve extreme precision in shape and scale. The text claimed that with sufficient skill, complex structures—even monoliths sixty feet tall and fifteen feet in diameter—could be generated if fine detail wasn't required. Complex designs simply demanded more time.
After about ten minutes of reading, the elf glanced back at the tank, who was practically asleep on the sofa.
"Hey, two-face... where's everyone else?"
Syrus opened one eye. "The girls are out looking for the wagon, except for the mage, who's been in the stables this whole time—probably under a massive layer of water and bubbles, playboy elf."
Alaster smirked and returned his gaze to the book, but the front door suddenly slammed open with a heavy bang that put them both on high alert.
Pina's short figure came sprinting inside. The young girl looked at Alaster with tear-filled eyes, her voice quivering:
"M-Master Alaster! It's... it's Elise! Someone wants to take her family's house and throw them into the street!"
Alaster shot up from the sofa. "What? How?!"
"It's over a loan!" Pina explained through heavy sobs. "The merchant says they have to vacate or he'll throw her and her family out by force! Please help, Master Alaster! Five people are going to end up homeless!"
Large tears welled in the girl's eyes, painting a helpless picture in her simple linen clothes, knee-length skirt, and ankle boots.
"Let's go!" Alaster ordered, genuinely concerned for his friend—the kindest member of the group and someone he held in high regard.
Pina wiped her face with her palms and snorted softly, pointing outside: "This way, it's not far!"
They bolted out the door, closely followed by the tank, who grabbed his broadsword before crossing the threshold.
Within four minutes, they reached the outskirts of the town square. The area between the main plaza and the eastern exit was bustling with activity at this hour.
As they drew closer, Alaster spotted the blonde archer arguing with a group of armed mercenaries and a stout, chubby man dressed in fine silk robes.
The middle-aged man, whose face was covered in reddish freckles, sneered at Elise:
"I don't have change for a gold coin, girl. The deadline is today. If you don't hand over the twenty silver coins, then as the contract dictates, this house, the property, and the land belong to me."
The man wore an arrogant smirk.
"B-but I have the money!" Elise protested, clad in a patched, yellowish-white outfit decorated with tiny floral embroidery. She held the gold piece out toward him.
"I need twenty silver coins. It's not my job to break your gold," the man insisted, his smirk widening. "You're just stupid! You'd better clear out your junk. Off my property!"
Fresh tears welled in the girl's eyes. She looked completely defenseless.
"But I can pay! Why won't you take the money? What kind of merchant are you, Master Nomec?!"
Behind Elise, an older woman knelt on the dirt, holding a five-year-old girl who was crying inconsolably.
"Don't worry, your sister will handle it..." the mother tried to comfort her. "She won't let them take our home... Don't cry, Tiara, don't cry..."
The woman was crying as well, holding the child tight. Both wore humble, heavily patched clothes and shared identical golden hair with Elise.
Alaster slowed his pace to analyze the scene.
«What is wrong with this guy? If Elise has the means to pay, why insist on evicting them?»
He looked at the building behind them: it was an extremely humble dwelling—basically a two-room shack. The elegant archer didn't seem to fit such impoverished origins, but suddenly everything clicked for the elf.
This was why she avoided talking about her family or bringing anyone home. Furthermore, this wasn't a wealthy town; most residents lived day-to-day off their crops.
Alaster held Pina back to listen for a moment longer.
"Sir," Elise begged, trying to slip the gold coin directly into Nomec's pocket, "take the coin and give me the change later!"
The portly man swatted her hand away. The gold coin slipped from the girl's fingers and hit the dirt with a sharp metallic clink.
Elise backed away, blinking in stunned disbelief.
"B-but this is my home... my family's home. Where are we supposed to go if you throw us out?" she whimpered softly.
Despair overwhelmed her. Just when she had earned enough money to improve her family's life while her father was sick, she found herself completely helpless.
Suddenly, a young voice echoed from inside the shack, followed by the clatter of metal.
"Get away from my house!"
Elise's younger brother burst through the doorway, brandishing a rusty iron sword.
The moment he appeared, the guards accompanying Nomec drew their weapons, ready to crush the boy.
The youth charged recklessly toward them. Elise went pale as she saw more than seven armed men step forward with cold expressions.
The archer rushed to throw herself in front of him.
"No, no! Mom, help!" the girl screamed, grabbing her brother to prevent a tragedy.
The bodyguards took a step forward, swords raised.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" a commanding voice thundered from behind.
Everyone present spun around instantly.
Standing there was an imposing elf with a sharp, cold gaze and a look that meant business.