A conversation between sisters

A few days later, at Caria Manor.

The young leader Rennala stood on the stargazing platform, her brows slightly furrowed as she gazed toward the Church of Vows, clear worry on her beautiful face.

Her younger sister had gone alone to investigate that inexplicable pull, promising to return in two or three days at most. Now she was overdue, and there had been no response from the messenger birds either.

Had the recent escalation of friction with the Academy not required her to stay and personally handle several thorny matters, she would already have lost patience and gone to look for her herself.

"Rellana... you willful girl. Please, don't let anything happen to you..." Rennala murmured.

Just as she resolved to take some people and go there herself tomorrow, no matter what, word came from the watchtower on the manor's perimeter: Lady Rellana had returned!

Relief washed over Rennala, only for her heart to tighten again-had her sister returned alone? Was she hurt?

She hurried down from the stargazing platform to the square before the manor's main hall.

Then she saw the "hero" responsible for her sister's safe return, along with a sight that made her pupils contract slightly.

Her sister, Rellana, had changed into a spare set of silver-blue knight's everyday attire. Her posture was as straight as ever, but her face still seemed a little pale, and there was a barely perceptible weakness in her steps.

None of that was the point.

The point was that her sister had not come back alone.

Behind her followed a tall man dressed in barbarian-style clothing.

He had black hair, rugged features, calm eyes, and two curved short swords hanging at his waist that looked as though they had seen plenty of fighting.

His bearing was utterly at odds with the exquisite, lavish Carian buildings and clothing around him.

And her proud younger sister, who had always been cold toward men, was now turning slightly sideways, seemingly... showing that man the way?

Although her face was expressionless, even a little tense, that subtle posture...

What set Rennala's alarm bells ringing even louder was that her sister seemed to notice her gaze and looked up. An exceedingly complicated emotion flashed across her face-a little embarrassment, a little guilt, and a little... awkwardness that defied description?

Then she quickly turned her head away, pretending not to have seen her elder sister, yet unconsciously raised a hand to smooth the loose strands beside her ear.

That gesture... Rennala knew it all too well.

Her sister made that little gesture whenever she was nervous or at a loss.

She folded her arms and watched the approaching pair at leisure, her gaze moving between her sister and the unfamiliar man, a faint, ambiguous smile appearing on her face.

"Sister." Rellana stopped before her, trying hard to make her voice sound as calm as usual.

"I'm back. This is... Horace Loux, the leader of a tribe from far away. They are staying near the Church of Vows for the time being, and there are some matters that need to be reported to you."

Her introduction was brief and stiff, deliberately leaving out many details.

Horace Loux stepped forward and, following the etiquette used between tribes, placed his right hand over his chest and bowed slightly. "Esteemed Lady Rennala, I am Horace Loux. Thank you for your sister's introduction. Please forgive this unannounced visit."

His etiquette was not quite proper, but his manner was neither servile nor overbearing.

Rennala nodded slightly, though her gaze still lingered with interest on her sister's face, especially that suspicious blush.

"Mr. Horace Loux, welcome to Caria Manor. I am Rennala." Her voice was gentle, yet carried an invisible pressure.

"It seems my sister's 'investigation' has yielded quite a harvest." She placed particular emphasis on "harvest."

Rellana's face grew even redder, and she shot her sister a fierce glare.

Rennala smiled and stopped teasing her. Turning to Horace Loux, she adopted a somewhat more formal expression. "Mr. Horace Loux, you have come a long way and are our guest. Please come inside so we can speak in detail. We can take our time discussing your tribe's circumstances and the matters my sister mentioned needed reporting."

Horace Loux nodded. "Sorry for the trouble."

After the brief meeting, Horace Loux was given a room in the manor's guest quarters to rest. Specific negotiations would be arranged once Rennala had learned the full situation.

The moment the guest-room door closed, Rennala grabbed her sister, who was trying to slip away, and took her to her private study.

"Go on, then. What exactly happened?" Rennala closed the door, folded her arms, and watched her sister's wandering gaze at leisure.

"That Horace Loux—what is his background? How did you meet? And..." She looked Rellana up and down.

"Were you hurt?"

Knowing she could not hide it from her sister, Rellana had no choice but to give a brief account, from feeling the pull and going alone to the church, to encountering Horace Loux, clashing and fighting with him, being defeated and injured, being "helped," then the situation with the tribe and the Numen shaman, and their preliminary interest in establishing contact.

She left out as many of the mortifying details as she could, stating only the basic facts.

Yet no one knew a younger sister better than her elder sister.

From her sister's evasive eyes, suspicious pauses, and the sudden bursts of embarrassment and anger when certain key words came up, Rennala keenly picked up on much that had been left unsaid.

Rellana might not have understood that sometimes, telling only half the story was the most dangerous thing of all.

"I see..." After hearing her out, Rennala nodded thoughtfully, a strange gleam flashing through her eyes.

"A barbarian warrior who can defeat my sister, a migrating tribe accompanied by a Numen shaman, and a pull from the 'moon' as well... interesting."

She looked at Rellana and suddenly asked, "How did it feel when you fought him?"

"What do you mean, how did it feel?!" Rellana immediately reacted as though someone had stepped on her tail.

"That man was overbearing and unreasonable, his swordsmanship was crude, and he... he..." She stammered over "he" for ages without getting anywhere, her face reddening again.

"I meant his power." Rennala pressed a hand to her forehead helplessly.

"Was there anything besides Dragon Communion incantations? Such as... fire?"

Rellana froze for a moment, then thought back. "Fire? His Dragon Communion incantation was Flame Lightning. I suppose that counts as lightning intertwined with fire."

The lady knight did not know that Horace Loux also possessed bloodflame from the Formless Mother.

Rennala asked again, "And what about the 'moon'? Did the pull you felt earlier react when you saw him?"

This time, Rellana nodded firmly, her expression growing more serious:

"Yes. Very strongly. It was as though... half the source of the pull I felt was in him. He must have encountered a moon, and very likely more than one kind."

She meant the pull she had felt that resembled the "Twin Moons."

Rennala tapped lightly on the desk, lost in thought.

A barbarian who knew nothing of Glintstone Sorcery, yet had encountered a moon?

And he might even have formed a connection with both of the "Twin Moons"? This was simply inconceivable.

But if it was true... then, in a sense, this barbarian tribe might naturally be more inclined toward Caria than the Academy.

That was an unexpected surprise.

She raised her head and looked at her sister, who was still sulky and a little awkward. Suddenly, a meaningful smile curled her lips.

"He beat you?" Rennala asked.

"It was just luck!" Rellana immediately retorted, like an enraged little lion.

"Next time, I'll definitely..."

"Yes, yes, next time, next time." Rennala interrupted her, her tone suddenly turning relaxed, even a little teasing.

"Come to think of it, this Mr. Horace Loux is quite capable. Leading his tribe all the way here shows both courage and resourcefulness. Though he comes from the wilderness, judging by his words and actions, he is not entirely crude and ignorant..."

Rellana suddenly looked at her sister warily. "What are you trying to say?"

Rennala looked at her with a beaming smile. "I was thinking... if he truly benefits our Caria, and you seem to... well, 'care' quite a bit about him too. If you like him, recruiting him and forming a marriage alliance might be a good choice? You're not that young anymore, after all, and you spend all day fighting and killing..."

"Sister!" Rellana instantly bristled, her face turning so scarlet it practically threatened to steam.

"Y-you know what you're saying?! What do you mean, like him! What marriage alliance! Are you... are you trying to sell me off? That bastard and I... I want nothing more than to kill him!" She stumbled over her words, embarrassed and agitated.

Seeing such a fierce reaction from her sister, the amusement in Rennala's eyes deepened, but she knew when to stop and raised both hands. "All right, all right, it was only a joke. Don't take it seriously."

Of course she knew it was too early to discuss this, and with her sister's temperament, pushing her too hard would only be bad.

Rellana let out a great breath of relief, but her heart was still pounding wildly.

She kept feeling that her sister's words just now had not been entirely a joke, and that some other scheme seemed to lurk in her eyes.

Messmer was also a demigod, and the English text displayed after defeating him was the same as for the other demigods. Judging by that, he was indeed Marika's own child; he simply did not have a Great Rune.