"Where's my book?" Aria groped around the table with half-closed eyes. She felt exhausted and finally decided to abandon the search.
Instead, she quickly pulled out her sleeping bag and unrolled it near the table. Without a word, her body collapsed into it and instantly sank into the mattress.
Changing her mind in an instant and unwilling to be disturbed for a while, she clung to the pillow and fell asleep within seconds.
---
In a dwarf town near the Greenviel border, something began to grow slowly — a very pale white tree.
It gradually cracked the slightly hardened ground, forming a line that split a piece of land in two. The plant grew taller, reaching up to two meters.
Seconds before anyone noticed, it had already reached the average height of a tropical tree — and it didn't stop there.
The tree continued to grow rapidly yet smoothly on every side: roots began to emerge from the dry earth, and the trunk kept stretching taller.
The roots slithered through the ground like snakes, creeping toward nearby houses. But with the moonlight obscured by clouds, they appeared merely as silhouettes in a dream.
The bright night stars weren't enough to alert the village dwellers. Minute by minute passed until the land was broken, ruptured by roots as thick as tropical trees.
Not only that, the tree's trunk grew thick — nearly ten meters — twisting upward to a height estimated around thirty meters.
At its top, branches spread out like a haunted tree, completely leafless, as if it had just been scorched by fire.
Above, it formed a wide platform made of the tree's own wood, each side growing high-reaching branches like walls separating an arena.
Slowly, something began to grow in the center of the arena — rising from the wood, a swirling orb appeared, releasing mist that gradually spread.
---
"Lay your head here," said Loraine softly, patting her thigh, prepared as a pillow for stitching.
"You know how to stitch wounds?" Wein hesitated. He didn't lie down immediately, instead confirming it since Loraine was only sixteen.
Wein looked away before bluffing again. "You know... this is just a shallow wound that doesn't need stitching," he lied.
Loraine gave him a serious look, forcing Wein to comply. She then spoke in a slightly firm tone. "Do you think I'm going to kill you?" She paused. "Come on, I'm tired, you know." Loraine coughed.
Not knowing what to say, Wein carefully lowered himself onto the bed and rested his head on the pillow positioned beside Loraine's thigh.
Her thigh served to support his neck so she could see better, aided by the dimming lamp that struggled against the cold.
Placed nearby, the lamp lit the stitching process as Loraine picked up a needle and a thread — thin as a hair.
Focusing, she gently pierced the outer layer of the wound, repeating the motion several times. Wein, unable to hide the pain, began to react.
"Can you stay still?" said Loraine, holding herself back, afraid that a droplet from her mouth might spill onto Wein's neck. She quickly pulled the needle back.
Minutes passed before Loraine finally cut the thread and set the tools down beside her.
"Done." She raised her hands high, satisfied with her work, though still disappointed for pressing her sword too hard on his neck earlier.
Because the pressure she applied had exceeded the limit, it caused a fairly deep wound — though it didn't hit the throat and remained in a safe area.
Wein groaned. "That hurt," he said while attempting to get up, but just as he prepared to move, Loraine stopped him and kept him lying down.
"Don't move too much. Rest," she said gently yet uncertainly. Wein, abandoning the idea, looked up — gazing at Loraine's face from below.
"... " He just stared at her face this time. Loraine, realizing it, returned his gaze — Wein was clearly captivated, but not for long, as she was truly about to blush.
"Does the wound still hurt?" she asked, raising her hand near her mouth to cover it shyly while speaking.
Her eyes shifted to the wolf pup nearby, clearly struggling to keep herself under control. She tried to hold back and succeeded.
"No, this is even better..." Something touched her — something grazed Loraine's cheek. She tried to see, but before she could confirm, she was sure it was his finger.
Wein moved his finger to tug gently at her cheek, making Loraine smile involuntarily as he pulled. Then he used another finger to pinch her cheek gently this time.
"Stop it," said Loraine, her voice echoing. She glared at Wein with a grumpy face before launching her hands like rockets toward both his cheeks.
Now the retaliation began. Loraine used her thumbs and index fingers to stretch both sides of Wein Arcveil's cheeks in opposite directions.
Without mercy, until Wein finally stopped touching her cheek and laid his arms down, defeated. Seeing that, Loraine smiled.
"I give up! Let go, that hurts! I wasn't even that rough!" Wein held his reddening cheeks from Loraine's pinches.
"You started it, so deal with it—" she tried to explain, but in the middle of it, someone else joined their conversation — the wolf pup howled toward them.
Wein burst into laughter, mouth wide open, and Loraine couldn't continue either as she chuckled, too, before they both ended up staring at each other.
Suddenly, they averted their gazes again — the silent exchange left a moment of awkwardness, until Wein finally spoke.
"How are we going to feed them milk?" he asked, extending his hand to pet one of the nearby wolves.
"Not tonight, Wein. How about we wait until tomorrow?" Her voice was like moonlight — so gentle and touching that her finger lightly brushed Wein's nose.
"Can I stand now?" he asked to be sure, and Loraine nodded several times. Without another word, he got up and moved away from the bed.
Something touched his hand — something warm with a cold surface that grasped part of his palm before a voice followed. "Where are you going?" Loraine asked weakly.
"I just want to read this book. Want to come? I might read it on the sofa over there." As he pointed out the location, Loraine let go of his hand, which fell against the mattress.