The other side of aloofness was...

In the deepest darkness, somewhere no outsider knew of, there was a space like this.

It was filled with stitched-together monsters, twisted limbs, and mutated flesh.

Within this space, which could only be described as depraved, corrupted, and sinister, two figures utterly out of place with their surroundings strolled leisurely along.

Anyone who saw this scene would surely have felt a sense of unreality.

The gently smiling, white-haired youth was faintly cloaked in a gauzelike radiance, and nothing profane could approach his body.

The corrupt mist parted before him on its own, and the filthy black blood moved aside as his feet came down, only returning to its original state after he passed.

The Dark Elf, on the other hand, gave an entirely different impression.

She was clearly the one responsible for creating all of this, yet her very existence seemed out of place here.

It was a strange feeling.

Extreme purity.

There was even something otherworldly about her.

Yet none of those creations could leave any trace on her.

Without any protection whatsoever, she walked straight through the mist, stepped barefoot into dismembered remains, and waded into pools of blood-without a speck of filth touching her.

The corrosive mist could not damage her skin, behaving like ordinary water vapor instead.

Her bare feet stepped directly onto rotting flesh mixed with bone fragments, yet no blood or minced flesh clung to her tender soles.

She rose from the mud unstained, bathed in clear ripples without becoming gaudy.

Like a white lotus... well, a black lotus.

Yes.

She looked like a lotus born from mutated flesh.

Despite standing amid a horrific scene that could only be called hell on earth, both of them remained perfectly calm.

They chatted at ease, treating everything around them as though it did not exist.

"You're different from most humans I've met."

"Most humans consider me an evil Magical Beast. Even mages treat me as an extremist lunatic once they learn what I research."

Svanney led the way, speaking with some feeling. "No, not just humans. You're different from everyone I've ever met."

"Even in the dark regions, most creatures of darkness consider me terrifying."

"Even in my own family, those people who normally delight in tormenting others cannot understand my ideas. They merely see my research as a ritual to please the Evil God."

"Hah!"

The Dark Elf Archmage gave a contemptuous scoff. "That notion is so idiotic that I cannot even be bothered to explain myself to them."

"No one, not even those who pretend to agree with me, fundamentally understands my research."

"I paid for all these materials. Even if I didn't buy them, someone else would. They would still organize adventurers to hunt them down. Why am I the only one they call evil?"

"Just because I'm a Dark Elf?"

Svanney's expression cooled slightly, and she gave a soft snort.

"I understand."

"My methods and ideas are destined to be accepted and understood by very few people. I don't care what they think."

"Nor do I need their approval."

"I don't need it!"

Perhaps it was because she had gone too long without speaking to anyone, or perhaps Herbert's attitude had touched something in her.

This withdrawn Archmage, who had consistently resisted conversation, was unexpectedly talkative now, carrying on at length all by herself.

Herbert, meanwhile, played the part of a good listener, quietly hearing her out and occasionally offering a response to encourage her to continue.

"Yes, yes, I understand. The pursuit of knowledge has always been a lonely road."

"Being misunderstood is a genius's fate."

"As long as you know where you stand, why seek anyone else's approval?"

Yep, just keep pouring on the motivational platitudes.

Herbert had figured it out. Deep down, this Archmage was not nearly as aloof as she appeared.

Did Svanney really "not care what others thought," as she claimed?

The answer, of course, was no.

If she truly did not care, she would not have needed to bring it up again and again.

People were like that.

The more they cared about something deep down, the more they wanted to pretend they did not care at all.

That way, even if they ultimately failed to get it, they could still feign nonchalance and say, "Me? I never really cared about that anyway."

A fire of tremendous passion for research burned in Svanney's heart, but others had only ever rejected it and treated it with hostility.

Those long years of experience had made her withdraw into herself. She had secretly hidden her flame away, unwilling to speak of it or share it with others anymore.

His arrival, along with the understanding he had happened to show, had given Svanney a chance to let it all out.

It was like tossing a bundle of dry wood onto a dying campfire, then deciding that was not enough and pouring a bucket of gasoline over it.

The flames erupted with a roar!

There was no stopping them now.

Herbert looked at Svanney's profile and nodded inwardly.

Although her face was just as cool and aloof, her true body was much more expressive than her avatar. Tiny details revealed the shifts in her emotions.

A cool, aloof lotus?

She was clearly a blazing fire wrapped in paper.

"Before this, no one ever acknowledged my research upon our first meeting the way you did..."

After speaking for a long time, Svanney's intense emotions gradually settled. She stopped and turned to look at the youth beside her.

"..."

She seemed to realize what she had just been doing. Only after a long silence did she speak again. "Sir Herbert, thank you for listening to me talk so much."

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing."

Herbert shook his head with a soft chuckle and said sincerely, "Lady Svanney, you really don't need to thank me. I'm interested in your past myself."

Even setting aside his attempt to win Svanney over, Herbert was genuinely curious about this Dark Elf.

He very much wanted to know what kind of experiences had led her down this rather extreme path of flesh and blood.

If some believed flesh was weak and ascension could only be achieved through machinery, then Svanney was their most extreme opponent.

She firmly believed that as long as the body continued to break through its limits, it could surpass its original boundaries and reach a level comparable to the gods.

Yes.

This woman, whom outsiders regarded as a Fallen Elf, a Forbidden Scholar, and a Shadow Archmage, was not nearly so complicated in Herbert's eyes.

Forget all that stuff.

Put plainly, wasn't she just an expert in body cultivation...?

An esteemed Archmage with an indestructible body who also knew a few punching and kicking techniques-wasn't that perfectly reasonable?

Reasonable.

Absolutely reasonable!

After this lengthy conversation, Herbert felt that his relationship with Svanney had successfully shifted from "hostile" to "above neutral, but not quite friendly."

"By the way, Lady Svanney, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

And so, once the time seemed right, Herbert took the initiative and made his request.

"About their plan to help you escape from prison, could you agree to it?"

?

Svanney: Huh?