Bell slept very deeply.
There were no nightmares.
There was no smell of blood.
And there was no crazy woman holding a knife with an innocent smile on her face.
When he opened his eyes again, sunlight was spilling recklessly across the blanket, warming him through.
The window was open.
A breeze blew in, carrying the scent of roses unique to the estate.
Bell moved his fingers.
His senses had returned.
He turned his head.
His breath suddenly hitched.
Someone was slumped by the bed.
Long silver hair cascaded down like a waterfall, covering half the sheets and reflecting a liquid-like shimmer in the sunlight.
It was the unique luster of Mithril.
Cold, yet breathtakingly beautiful.
Sensing movement on the bed, the person stirred.
She slowly raised her head.
Their eyes met.
Bell’s fingers gripped the sheets tightly.
There was no ghostly blue fire.
There were no empty eye sockets.
Instead, there was a pair of blue eyes as clear as alpine lakes.
The corners of her eyes drooped slightly, carrying the sleepiness of someone who had just woken up.
Her eyelashes were long, every single one distinct, trembling slightly as she blinked.
Aside from her skin being excessively white—white as snow, white as porcelain—she looked no different from before.
“Good morning.”
Tia spoke.
Her voice was very soft.
It carried a tiny, subtle electronic static that was almost imperceptible if one didn't listen closely.
It sounded like a low hum coming from an old phonograph.
A bit distorted.
Yet it was more magnetic, more tender.
“Bell.”
She called his name again.
The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, revealing the smile Bell knew down to his bones.
Bell’s throat felt as if it were blocked by something.
It was a sour, aching pain.
Tears fell without warning.
They splashed onto the pillow.
“Good morning...”
Bell’s voice was incredibly raspy.
“Tia.”
Tia reached out.
That fair, slender hand gently brushed against Bell’s cheek.
It was icy.
But it wasn't the coldness of a dead thing.
It was a warm smoothness, like polished jade.
Bell suddenly sat up and pulled her into a hug.
He held her so tightly it was as if he wanted to rub her into his own body.
The moment the sensation of touch registered, Bell froze.
She was soft.
The body in his arms was as warm and soft as jade.
There was no metallic stiffness, no jarring edges.
Her skin, her muscles, even her bones.
In the moment of the embrace, they all obediently conformed to the curves of Bell’s body.
This was the power of the plasticity runes.
As long as she willed it.
She could be an indestructible shield.
Or she could be as soft as water wrapped around a finger.
“I’m here.”
Tia’s chin rested on Bell’s shoulder.
Her hand gently patted his back.
“Don't be afraid.”
“I’m back.”
Time seemed to freeze in this moment.
The birds chirping outside and the rustling of leaves in the wind all became background noise.
After a long time.
Bell finally let go.
He looked at Tia, looking at that face he had lost and found again.
He took a deep breath.
He forced back all his vulnerability and tears.
“Are you hungry?”
Bell asked a silly question.
Tia tilted her head.
Silver strands of hair slid off her shoulder.
“I don't need to eat anymore.”
She pointed to her chest.
There, through her clothes, he could still feel the rhythm of that seven-colored heart.
“As long as it’s still beating.”
“I will never be hungry.”
Bell laughed.
He laughed like a fool.
“Then just stay with me while I eat.”
The two went downstairs.
The living room was filled with the aroma of coffee.
Eleanor was sitting on the sofa, holding a cup, but her eyes kept darting toward the stairs.
Antinoia sat opposite her, holding a thick stack of parchment, writing and drawing.
Hearing footsteps.
Eleanor stood up abruptly.
The coffee in her hand spilled all over the floor.
“Oh!”
She didn't bother to wipe it up, rushing to the stairs in a few steps.
Looking at the two coming down.
The rims of her eyes turned red instantly.
“Tia...”
Eleanor reached out, wanting to touch Tia, yet appearing a bit afraid to.
This was made of Mithril.
This was a miracle of resurrection.
Tia let go of Bell’s hand and took a step forward.
She took the initiative to hug Eleanor.
“Mom.”
The electronic voice was very soft.
Eleanor’s whole body shuddered.
Her tears burst through.
“Oh!”
“Oh!”
She tightly hugged this daughter in law she had lost and found again.
“It’s good that you’re back... It’s good that you’re back...”
Antinoia pushed up her glasses, which only had half a lens left.
She put down her pen.
Her eyes were as fanatical as a madman’s.
“Save the catching up for later.”
She tapped the table.
“Bell, come here.”
“I have important data to tell you.”
Bell patted his mother’s shoulder, signaling her to let go first.
Then he led Tia to the sofa and sat down.
“What data?”
Bell picked up a cookie from the table and stuffed it into his mouth.
Having not eaten for two days, he was truly hungry.
Antinoia pushed the stack of parchment toward Bell.
They were covered in dense calculations and charts.
“Regarding this body.”
Antinoia pointed at Tia.
“Do you know what this means?”
“It means I have a wife,” Bell said indistinctly.
Antinoia rolled her eyes.
“It means you’ve picked up the most terrifying weapon in this world.”
She pointed to a formula on the drawing.
“High purity Mithril throughout, combined with Balin’s Etheric Induction runes.”
“This means her body’s conductivity for mana is infinite.”
Bell frowned.
“Speak English.”
“In plain terms.”
Antinoia took a deep breath, suppressing the tremor in her voice.
“Mana cannot stay on her body.”
“Any magic, whether it’s a fire ball, ice spike, or a curse.”
“As long as it touches her skin.”
“It will be like water droplets falling on a lotus leaf.”
“It will slide off instantly.”
“It will be guided into the atmosphere or directly into the ground.”
Bell stopped chewing.
He stared at Antinoia.
“You mean...”
“Complete magic immunity.”
Antinoia spoke word by word.
“Aside from pure physical attacks.”
“There is no magic in this world that can harm her in the slightest.”
Bell’s pupils contracted slightly.
In his mind, the figure of Cecilia Lucas suddenly appeared.
That genius who was proficient in all elements of magic.
That monster who could summon wind blades, earth spikes, and lightning with a wave of her hand.
If.
If the current Tia stood before her.
Would those fancy spells all just turn into fireworks?
Bell suddenly smiled.
His smile was somewhat cold.
“What else?”
Antinoia pointed to another chart.
“The blessings given by Aunt Philan have also been solidified.”
“Flight's Favor.”
“She can ignore gravity and fly freely.”
“Vastness of Nature.”
“Combined with the plasticity runes.”
“She can change her body structure at will.”
“Turn into a blade, a shield, a needle.”
“Or even...”
Antinoia glanced at Tia’s long silver hair.
“Turn into countless lethal threads.”
“These enhancement spells originally had time limits.”
“But under the ‘quenching’ of that moment, they were instantly frozen into eternity.”
Bell turned his head.
He looked at Tia, who was sitting quietly beside him.
She was looking down, curiously studying her own fingers.
With a light tap of her fingertip.
Her fingernail instantly elongated, turning into a sharp silver dagger.
Cold light flickered.
Then it retracted.
Changing back into a neatly trimmed, rounded fingernail.
“This isn't a wife.”
Bell muttered to himself.
“This is basically a Gundam.”
Antinoia closed the drawings.
Her expression became serious.
“But, Bell.”
“This matter must be kept a complete secret.”
“If the outside world finds out you’ve created an artifact with self awareness in this way.”
“The mages will go crazy.”
“The royal family will go crazy.”
“Every alchemist on the continent will go crazy.”
“When that time comes, the pursuit you face will be something even your father might not be able to protect you from.”
Eleanor wiped away her tears and walked over.
She regained her dignity as a Duchess.
“Regarding Balin, your father has already handled it.”
“He gave that dwarf the mining rights to an entire silver mine.”
“They signed a death contract.”
“You don't need to worry about Philan. Wood Elves value promises most; she won't talk.”
“The problem now is.”
Eleanor looked at Bell.
“What do you plan to do next?”
Bell was silent for a few seconds.
He swallowed the last bite of the cookie.
He brushed the crumbs off his hands.
“Go back to the academy.”
Eleanor was stunned for a moment.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Bell stood up.
He took Tia’s hand.
“The most dangerous place is the safest place.”
“And.”
A cold light flashed in Bell’s eyes.
“Leovet Victor is there.”
“If something really goes wrong.”
“That man should be very interested in such a perfect soul vessel.”
“It won't be a problem to have him help cover for us.”
More importantly.
Cecilia thinks Tia is already dead.
Dead and gone.
She would never imagine.
That the woman she killed with her own hands.
Would change into a stronger shell.
And return right under her nose.
“Let’s go.”
Bell looked at Tia.
Tia nodded.
She obediently followed behind Bell.
When they reached the door.
She suddenly stopped.
She turned her head.
She looked at the empty living room.
And at Eleanor, who was standing there wiping her tears.
Tia let go of Bell’s hand.
She walked back.
She came to a stop in front of Eleanor.
Then.
She bowed deeply.
“Mom.”
“I will take good care of him.”
The electronic voice echoed in the air.
Solemn.
Firm.
After saying that.
She turned around.
Her silver hair fluttered.
She strode out of the estate gates.
The sunlight shone on her.
She was radiant.
...
The doors and windows of the study were tightly closed.
The curtains were drawn shut, letting in not a single ray of light.
The air was thick with the smell of tobacco.
Elisk Lucas sat behind the large mahogany desk.
On the desk, a stack of crumpled parchment was spread out.
Those were the manuscripts left by Antinoia.
They were filled with complex pipe structures and formulas that only Bell could understand.
Beside them lay a disassembled core component.
It was the valve of the mana pump.
Remnants of flesh and skin from when Bell’s palm was scorched were still stuck to it.
Charred black.
Eye catching.
Elisk reached out.
His fingertips were rough and covered in callouses.
He gently stroked the threads on that valve.
This kind of craftsmanship.
This kind of precision.
This kind of design that completely deviated from magical principles, yet damnably aligned with some fundamental truth of the world.
It was absolutely not a product of this world.
It wasn't even something an alchemist of this era could imagine.
“Come out.”
Elisk barked at the air.
Without any warning.
The shadows behind the bookshelf rippled.
A figure completely wrapped in black cloth appeared out of thin air.
The figure knelt on one knee.
“Duke.”
“Did you find anything?”
Elisk didn't look up.
His gaze remained fixed on those drawings.
“What ancient books has the young master read lately?”
“Or has he come into contact with any strange people?”
The shadow lowered its head.
“In response to your Grace.”
“No.”
“Aside from the academy and the estate, the young master has been nowhere.”
“The library’s borrowing records are also normal.”
“It’s all Basic Magic Theory.”
“Basic theory...”
Elisk gave a cold laugh.
He grabbed a drawing.
He pointed to the formula labeled The Second Law of Thermodynamics.
“Can basic theory teach this?”
“Can it teach how to drain a Flame Demon Heart dry?”
“Can it teach how to stuff a soul into Mithril like stuffing a sausage?”
“Bell...”
Elisk muttered the name.
His throat felt dry.
If it were a possession.
If it were an evil spirit taking over.
As a father.
He should draw his sword and hack the monster occupying his son’s body into mincemeat.
However.
He remembered the way Bell had scorched his own flesh to save Tia.
He remembered the way Bell had served him food at the dinner table.
He remembered the way Bell had knelt on the ground, begging him for the command token.
That emotion was real.
That bond of blood thicker than water was also real.
“Duke?”
The shadow spoke tentatively.
“These drawings...”
Elisk snapped his eyes open.
The confusion in his eyes dissipated.
Replacing it.
Was a determination harder than steel.
“Burn them.”
He threw Antinoia’s manuscripts into the fireplace.
“Burn them all.”
“Don't even let the ashes remain.”
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