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"Forget it."
Illya's voice had already returned to its usual cold clarity, stripped of all emotion. "These flowers, and the payment, are yours." She gestured toward the gemstones and gold coins on the table, then glanced at the two "pieces of evidence" laid out on the cloth.
Her silver-armored finger lifted, pointing lightly through the air at the lingering traces of power left behind by Albedo and Rubedo.
[Divine Domain Insight] flared as if pushed to its limit, like an impossibly precise scanner. In an instant, it captured, analyzed, and memorized everything clinging to those items—the residual aura, energy signatures, material composition—especially that faint, unique "scent" of their original owners, a blend of danger and chaos.
In truth, her perception had already extended far beyond this room.
Those two hadn't gone far.
They were still nearby, hiding in the shadows, convinced they'd succeeded, smugly discussing their next move.
A faint, cold smile curled in Illya's mind.
Out loud, she said, "Got it. Etched into my soul."She said it deliberately—for them to hear.
Pure white holy flames burst into existence. In an instant, the two items and the cloth beneath them were burned into the finest ash, leaving not even a trace of scent behind.
Only after finishing this did Illya casually sketch out, in her mind, how to make the two of them meet the most miserable end possible. Then she remembered—there was still a witness.
She turned toward Ivy, who was still frozen in shock. The icy look in Illya's eyes softened by the faintest, almost imperceptible degree.
This girl… she's interesting. At least her sincerity feels… acceptable.
"Your name is Ivy?"
"Y-Yes!" Ivy nodded quickly.
"Can you cook? Or do you know which restaurants in this city are the best? Somewhere well-regarded, preferably with unique dishes."
Ivy blinked, caught off guard by how abruptly the topic shifted—from something terrifying and awkward to… food. But she recovered quickly. If she could get on good terms with someone this powerful and generous, there might be benefits!
"I can cook a little, just simple home dishes… but if we're talking about good food in the city, I know quite a few places! There's an old barbecue shop with amazing spices, a seafood place that specializes in southern catches—super expensive, but people say it's incredibly fresh—and there's a dessert shop famous for its honey mille crepe cake and fruit tarts. People line up every day!"
Her eyes lit up as she spoke. Thinking about food pushed her nervousness aside.
"They're all expensive, I assume?" Illya asked casually.
"Y-Yeah… especially the seafood place and the dessert shop. People like me don't get to go there often…" Ivy rubbed her hands awkwardly.
"Lead the way," Illya said simply. "You're my guide today. Eat wherever you want. I'll cover everything."
Ivy's eyes went wide.
Free food. And not just any food—high-end places she could usually only stare at from afar. All for just being a guide? And she'd already gotten paid earlier!
(Go. Absolutely go. No way I'm missing this. Maybe I'll even get a tip!)
Her face bloomed into a radiant smile.
"Got it! Leave it to me! Where do you want to start? I know the best route!" she said, instantly slipping into her role, brimming with energy.
Illya looked at the girl, who had already forgotten all her worries and was now lost in thoughts of delicious food. Somewhere deep in her eyes, that coldness softened ever so slightly.
Fine. Before exploring this world properly, she might as well eat.
"We start with dessert."
She stepped forward. Her Valkyries Aegis boots struck the floor with a steady, rhythmic sound. This time, her gait was firm and powerful—no trace of the earlier weakness remained. Silver hair, white attire, and a flawless profile bathed in the morning light made her look like a sculpture carved from ice.
"Dessert? This early in the morning?"
"I feel like it."
"O-Okay! The dessert shop is close—we can walk there! Their cream is made from special dairy cows from the northern ice plains…"
Ivy chattered as she led the way, leaving the small flower shop behind.
Morning sunlight grew brighter, spilling across the streets of the Baharuth Empire's capital, painting the waking city in warm gold.
Yet walking beside Illya, Ivy couldn't help but feel a subtle chill—not from the air, but from the presence of this silver-haired, silver-armored beauty who seemed like a living ice statue. Still, that faint unease quickly melted under her excitement for food.
She practically bounced as she pointed ahead.
"Big sis! Just around that corner—'Honey Whisper'! Their cream uses milk from northern ice cows, super rich but not greasy, and their honey comes straight from apiaries near the edge of the Elven Forest. Limited supply every day—if we're late, it's gone!"
Her cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling with pure anticipation.
At that moment, a stir rose from the street ahead—voices filled with surprise and admiration.
"Look over there! Oh my—she's gorgeous!"
"Silver hair? Is she an elf? No… her eyes are blue…"
"That armor… what is that made of? I've never seen anything so… sacred and cold! What rank adventurer is she? Adamantite? No, she looks even more…"
"And isn't that Ivy from the flower shop? How is she walking with someone like that?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down!"
The crowd instinctively parted, forming a path as all eyes focused on Illya.
Her expression remained calm, indifferent. Her blue eyes gazed forward as if the awe, curiosity, and reverence around her had nothing to do with her. Yet the mere aura she carried made ordinary people feel suffocated.
Ivy shrank a little under the attention, especially seeing familiar faces staring at her in shock. But when she glanced at Illya's composed indifference, she straightened slightly, feeling oddly proud.
Then she remembered what had happened earlier in the back room of the flower shop.
Her cheeks flushed again.
(What exactly did big sis go through earlier… that was way too… ahem. Don't think about it!)
Not far from the street, inside a tavern called "Green Apple," four figures sat by the window, standing out slightly from the rest.
They bore the wear of travel. Their equipment wasn't luxurious, but it was well-maintained—clearly seasoned adventurers.
They were the mithril-ranked team known as the Four Strategists.
Their leader, Hekkeran Termite, a sharp-eyed man in his thirties with a short beard, sipped his ale while analyzing recent requests. Beside him sat their core magic caster, Arche Eeb Rile Furt—a black-haired, violet-eyed girl who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen. Though youthful, her expression carried a maturity beyond her years, along with a hint of hidden worry. A glass of water sat untouched in front of her.
Across from them sat Imina, the team's scout and assassin. Her short hair and sharp gaze gave her a predatory air as she calmly peeled an apple with precise, steady movements. Next to her was Roberdyck, the group's heavily built frontline fighter, devouring a slab of meat with gusto.
The noise from outside drifted in.
"Sounds loud out there," Hekkeran said, setting down his drink.
"Something about… a beautiful woman?" Roberdyck mumbled through a mouthful of food, turning to look out the window, though he couldn't see much.
Then clearer voices reached them:
"Silver hair! I swear, I've never seen hair that beautiful!"
"And that armor! By the forge god—that shine, those patterns… masterwork? No, maybe even legendary!"
"She's heading toward 'Honey Whisper'! Let's go!"
"Silver hair? Armor? Beauty?" Hekkeran raised a brow. As a leader, he paid attention to anything noteworthy—and "beauty" alone was reason enough to look.
He glanced at his teammates, especially Arche. "Want to check it out? Could be someone important. No harm in making connections."
"I don't mind," Imina said coolly, slicing the apple into neat pieces. "Gathering information is part of the job."
Arche hesitated. She didn't like crowds, and the weight of her family's situation still pressed heavily on her mind. But seeing the expectant looks from Hekkeran and Roberdyck—who was already wiping his mouth and getting up—she sighed softly.
"…Alright."
"That's more like it!" Hekkeran laughed, tossing a few copper coins onto the table as he stood. "Let's see what kind of beauty causes this much commotion."
The four stepped out of the tavern and followed the flow of people.
Then they saw her.
The radiant figure walking slowly forward, as if drawing the morning sunlight toward herself.
Hekkeran inhaled sharply.
It wasn't just beauty. It was something far more complex—a presence that combined divine purity, icy authority, and breathtaking allure. The gleam of her silver armor carried a biting chill, while her flawless face made it impossible to look away.
"C-Captain… this is…" Roberdyck gaped, forgetting to eat, unable to find words.
Imina's eyes sharpened. Instinctively, she evaluated Illya: perfectly steady steps, no wasted motion, armor covering her entire body yet moving as fluidly as water. That level of control—and the armor itself—was beyond comprehension.
Dangerous. At the very least… abnormal.
Arche, too, felt a flicker of awe—but more than that, caution and curiosity. Quietly, she began to circulate her mana, preparing to activate her innate ability, [All-Appraisal Magic Sight], which could perceive magical properties and fragments of a target's abilities.
Her greatest secret.
At that moment, Ivy spotted them. Her face lit up, and she waved.
"Mr. Hekkeran! Miss Arche! Miss Imina! Mr. Roberdyck! Good morning!"
Illya didn't stop walking.
Her blue eyes shifted slightly, sweeping over the four of them.
Calm. Indifferent.
Like glancing at stones by the roadside.
"..."
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