Lyra Steals Someone's Love!

Upon hearing the knock on the door, Ailin instinctively glanced around.

The golden rays of the setting sun pierced through the window frames, spilling onto the various flowers and plants inside the house.

The entire Wooden Hut showed no signs of its original simplicity.

To be honest, although everything was "completely changed", the room filled with beautiful flowers and plants did not feel chaotic.

On the contrary, the combination of various colors such as bright red, emerald green, azure blue, and light purple, following a certain pattern, highlights a certain charm.

It looks good, but it's not normal.

Ailin got out of bed and stepped onto the soft carpet woven from tender grass. Everywhere her gaze swept, all the plants seemed to convey a sense of attachment.

That emotion was exceptionally strong.

The vine he had driven into the soil sprouted a slender branch, which, like a human, tilted its tip as if testing the waters.

"Knock knock knock~"

Ailin remained silent for a moment, then sighed, and ultimately did not address the unusual situation in the room.

After all, this wasn't the first or second time. Both the Witcher and the priests of the Temple of Melitele should have gotten used to his "unconventionality."

There's no need to erase the breathtaking natural flower garden in front of us, as we did in the past, just to hide it.

To be honest, I don't know how it was constructed or whether it was influenced by his instincts.

However, he still quite liked the arrangement.

Besides, the Temple of Melitele is practically elevating him to the status of a saint, so a few special features are hardly a big deal.

"Squeak~"

The door opened.

Lyra was outside the door, but for some reason she seemed very nervous, her big eyes darting away, avoiding his gaze.

"What's wrong, Lyra?" Ailin asked.

"Ailin, Huus is awake..." Lyra remained silent for a long time before speaking.

However, the content was not a notification that matched his expression.

Huus waking up was certainly something to be happy about, but it didn't seem like anything to be surprised about.

"Uh..." Ailin hesitated for a second, looking at the priestess's flushed and somewhat unhealthy face. "Huus is awake... that's good, but are you alright? Are you feeling unwell?"

"No... it's nothing..."

The young priest, watched with concern by those deep blue eyes, nervously lowered his head, then raised it again, then lowered it again, at a loss for what to do.

[Lyra, it doesn't matter who arrives first, what matters is who makes it to the end.]

Now that you have competitors, you should be even more proactive!

Do you want to be replaced?

Mother Gisela's words echoed in Lyra's ears again.

Of course not... She bit her lip, twisting her fingers around her plain white priest's robe, then suddenly looked up and took a deep breath:

"Ailin, I..."

The rich, complex floral fragrance wafted towards her, interrupting her.

The fragrance of flowers... Lyra twitched her delicate nose, her voice pausing.

A scent I'd never smelled before—not orange, not Margarita Laux Antille, but not even Lady Vesemir's...

Why does Ailin's room smell of flowers?

Am I already too late, have I missed my chance, or have I been replaced?

But didn't they just get back?

My thoughts raced through my mind in that instant.

"Are you really alright?" Ailin took a small step closer with concern, carefully examining her face.

Lyra's rosy cheeks turned pale. She didn't answer, but bit her lip, glanced past Ailin, and peered into the house.

Ailin noticed that Lyra was acting strangely, and after thinking for a moment, he stepped aside.

The door was wide open.

The rich and delicate fragrance is even more intense.

"Um?"

Lyra was stunned by just one glance.

She was relieved to find no women in the room, but flowers bloomed everywhere except on the bed, on the walls, floor, ceiling, table, and chairs.

She blinked, rubbed her eyes, looked at Ailin, and then looked inside the room.

"Ailin... your room?!"

"Yes, my room has undergone some... um..." Ailin paused, "Changes."

change?

Lyra stared blankly into the room, at the scene that was even more vibrant than the temple gardens.

And if she wasn't mistaken, many of the flowers didn't seem to be in bloom at this time of year...

Is this just a small change?

"I've had some insights into my spiritual practice," Ailin scratched his head. "Sorry for messing up the rooms in the temple..."

This room was, after all, a temporary guest room provided by the temple for them to stay in. Since he was going back to Kaer Morhen tomorrow, he would most likely have to clear away these thriving plants today.

"It's alright, it's alright," Lyra waved her hands repeatedly, then glanced at the inner room again. "It's decorated very nicely. I never thought a room could be decorated like this."

"It wasn't me who arranged it; these are just side effects of the training," Ailin explained. "I will clean this place up before I leave the temple."

"No, no, Mother Ianna and Lady Nannick will definitely like this too..." Lyra suddenly paused, her bright eyes turning to Ailin. "Wait, you said you're leaving the temple?"

Ailin nodded. "We'll leave tomorrow; we need to go back to the school."

"Really...really want to go back?" Lyra hesitated for a moment, then thought of the injured people still in the hospital bed and quickly said, "But...the injuries of Huus and those two people can't withstand a long journey. Can't we wait a few months until their injuries have healed before leaving?"

"And the Old Duke's request, and those ghouls..."

"The large hordes of ghouls have been mostly cleared out," Ailin shook his head. "The rest will be handled by the Duke's Monster Hunter Army. With the training of the past few weeks and the Necrophage Oil, it's not a big problem."

"As for Huus and Big Iron Shield..."

"I have already spoken with Mother Ianna. Huus will recuperate at the temple and leave only after his injuries have healed."

"Big Iron Shield and Furi will also stay in Arland. I will ask Mother Ianna and the Old Duke to help them find a way to make a living."

"Too much has happened lately. Vesemir and I need to go back and report to Chieftain Soyer."

"Oh... I see..." Lyra's tone was somewhat disappointed. "Then... when will you come to Arland again?"

Ailin didn't answer immediately, but silently looked at Lyra, making her flusteredly try to cover it up:

"What I mean is, once Huus recovers, he definitely can't leave Temeria on his own, cross the war-torn Ard and Kedwen, and return to Kaer Morhen, so..."

After a long silence, Ailin finally answered, seemingly out of the blue, "Lyra, I am a witcher, a witcher who makes a living by hunting monsters."

"The Witcher is always on the road, always fighting, never staying in the same place, unless he dies..."

"Stop talking, Ailin!" Lyra's voice suddenly rose, her eyes pleading.

"You are the hero of Arland, the Blue Death, the Godslayer. You are always victorious, always stronger and more powerful than the last. How could you possibly die?"

"Lyra ..." Ailin was stunned.

He saw that the little priestess's usually gentle and bright face was now strangely familiar with its stubbornness and obstinacy.

In a daze, he suddenly remembered where he had seen this face before.

That was in Viscount Hudson's abandoned castle, in the cabin in the woods where Francesca was teleported to during her escape.

Back then, the young priestess was a vengeful girl who was determined to kill the "The Glutton" Haxor, and even risked her life to secretly seek him out, hoping to become a witch hunter.

Not long has passed.

The gentle and kind priestess before him, praised by both the temples of Arland and Temple of Melitele, had completely integrated into the temple, causing him to subconsciously forget her background and that she had witnessed her parents die before her eyes, as if she had grown up in the temple since childhood.

"Don't speak lightly of death, Ailin," Lyra said, leaning against the doorframe and bowing her head slightly. "When a person dies, they can no longer roll their beloved tobacco, write poems with refined elegance, or laugh and boast to their knights about the future..."

"There's no way to listen to a master play the solstice, plant roses, water lavender, dress up for a ball, or write letters to family and friends..."

"When a person dies, everything is gone, Ailin."

"There's nothing left."

"Lai..." Ailin was about to touch her hair and say something to comfort her.

Suddenly, he felt a soft, warm touch in his arms, as if a drifting, pure white cloud had rushed towards him.

Her brown hair was styled in a bun, exuding the fragrance of daisies.

Her delicate cheeks were hot and burning, pressed against the left side of his neck, as if trying to melt him.

But the hands she held around him were soft and cold, and were trembling.

"Don't die, Ailin, never die..." came a low murmur from his chest.

But who can escape death?

Is the Child of Miracle guaranteed to survive to the end and win in the end?

Trial of the Mountains, Abandoned Mine Caves, School of the Cat Assault, Arena Tournament, May Festival, Passerlon Forest, White Frost in the Spiral, Descent of the Evil God...

Countless times, the Grim Reaper's scythe was only a hair's breadth away from his neck.

"Ailin..." The call seemed to come from his own heartbeat.

"Yes," he sighed softly, stroked Lyra's hair, and whispered, "I will not die, never..."

The light cloud in my arms trembled, and the fragrance of daisies became even stronger.

"Ailin, I..."

"Squeak~"

Suddenly, the groaning of a wooden door echoed through the corridor, interrupting Lyra and startling her so much that she took a step back, nearly tripping on the threshold and falling.

"Captain... Priestess Lyra?" Kray, who came out rubbing his eyes, blinked.

He looked at the girl not far from Ailin, her head down and her face flushed, with a strange expression.

"Lyra came to inform us that Huus has woken up." Ailin glanced at the little priestess and came to her rescue.

"Squeak~" Another wooden door in the corridor opened.

"Huus is awake?!" Master Dante walked out of the door, his eyes still showing no signs of fatigue.

He seemed to be like Ailin, not taking advantage of the afternoon to rest.

Ailin looked at Lyra.

Smelling the faint scent of blood in front of her, Lyra sighed softly. Composing herself, she nodded and said, "He's awake. Huus is recovering well. Ms. Gisela said he can try getting out of bed in a week."

"However, due to internal bleeding, his internal organs have been damaged, so he cannot engage in strenuous combat for the time being and will need to recuperate for at least a month."

"That's good." Dante breathed a sigh of relief.

Next.

Young witchers from the School of the Wolf were called out one after another.

Vesemir also came out from the neighboring room, glancing at Ailin and Lyra with a mocking look.

Lyra might not know, but Ailin certainly did. All of Lyra's words had been overheard by Vesemir, that Witcher Master was always eavesdropping.

After all, Vesemir is no longer the same as an ordinary Witcher Master like Dante.

Even if someone lived nearby, or was assigned to the end of the corridor, their perception level of 84 would be enough to hear everything they did clearly.

"Kray, you've come at the worst time..." Vesemir gently patted Kray on the shoulder.

Upon hearing this, Kray scratched his head, glanced at Ailin, and then at Lyra, who was carefully explaining Huus's condition to Dante. He thought to himself that his arrival was not "inopportune" but "perfect timing."

If the captain's house is broken into while Miss Mary is away, how are they supposed to face Miss Mary when they get back?

At this time.

Not wanting to waste any more words, Ailin subtly closed her room door, blocking out the vibrant and magical scene inside.

Only Vesemir and Lyra noticed it and took a second look; the others didn't.

At most, I noticed that the smell in the hallway was much fresher than before.

It seems that although the room has changed quite a bit after absorbing the @#￥%&'s Element the Leshen, the magical fluctuations are not significant... Ailin thought to himself.

Is this due to the essential differences between the different elements?

Just as nature's activity should be less intense than fire and slaughter.

Or perhaps it's because there are also different levels and ranks among the elements?

The "@#￥%& @#￥%&'s Element" is ranked far above the "Leshen @#￥%&'s Element".

At this moment.

The last witcher, Fred, emerged from the room with a slight frown.

After explaining a few things to him, Vesemir said, "Alright, everyone's here. Let's go see Huus first, and then go to the canteen for dinner."

After everyone agreed, they followed Lyra outside.

"It's such a pity that Huus didn't get to see Evans being executed."

"You didn't see it either..."

"But I wasn't a witness. It's such a pity. Thinking about those who plotted and framed me, I wish I could kill them all with my own hands..."

"It's alright, there are other people here..."

Several young witchers started chattering again, expressing their indignation on behalf of Huus, Bont, and Fred.

Fred himself responded occasionally, but seemed somewhat distracted.

After returning home, he felt that something was off about him, but he couldn't figure it out even after a whole afternoon.

He is now hesitating whether to ask Master Dante and Master Vesemir.

Just then.

He followed the group and approached the door to Ailin's room.

"Um?"

Fred suddenly stopped in his tracks, a thought flickering in his mind, and turned his head to look at the tightly closed door.

"What's wrong?"

Ailin's voice suddenly rang out from beside him.