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No matter how frantically the maid squirmed or how outrageously Ariel behaved, Dickliff remained an unmoved monolith, reciting his notes with robotic precision.
Ariel's eyelashes fluttered as she withdrew her gaze from the maid's translucent robes, sighing internally.
This is growing tedious.
Perhaps she should heed Dickliff's advice and accept that Luke Notos as her personal guard?
Rumors claimed the Notos men shared her appreciation for voluptuous women.
Her fingers danced along the maid's curves, eliciting a gasp.
We might even find common ground.
A smirk played on her lips as she sipped her tea. Sunlight gilded her platinum-blonde hair while embroidered curtains billowed at the cabin windows.
Then—
A flash.
Like drawn steel, afternoon light fractured across the river's surface, casting shimmering blades of reflection into her eyes.
The teacup halted mid-tilt.
All mirth drained from Ariel's face as the dazzling riverscape held her captive.
When she finally looked away, her gaze settled on Dickliff's still-wagging jaw.
No.
Even that would be dull.
She withdrew her hand from the maid's robes, propping her chin on her palm.
A mid-rank swordsman...
How pathetically inadequate.
Meanwhile – Roa Docks
"...and half the remaining fishermen perished."
Isolte's finger tapped the wooden "Divine Attendant" figurine in Allen's hand as she concluded the legend.
"On the evening of April 20th, when despair had claimed the survivors, the goddess finally answered."
Allen's eyebrow twitched.
He'd assumed this obscure "Stellan Sect" was some modern scam. But 7,000 years ago?
In this world, most dismissed ancient history as myth—but Allen knew better.
The Six-Faced World's legends were rooted in truth.
This sect apparently emerged during the chaotic exodus after the Dragon God's rampage, when displaced races carved up the human continent...
Isolte continued, "At dawn, a mermaid-like 'Stellan Attendant' rose from the last remaining pond. She spoke in divine tongue, bringing floods that transformed the wasteland into fertile waters overnight. Fish leapt willingly into boats to feed the starving."
"Thus began the Waterbirth Festival—celebrating both the water's return and life's continuation."
Sylphy and Rudeus listened raptly, while the vendor nodded approvingly.
Allen, however, blurted out:
"So the Sea Tribes were testing territorial expansion? Maybe even attempted enslavement—"
He caught himself too late.
Two pairs of eyes burned into him—the vendor's offended glare and Isolte's startled amusement.
"Shixiong," Isolte chided softly, though her voice carried a hint of indulgent warmth, "questioning sacred texts is heresy here. While Asuran scholars debate the legend's authenticity, linking their goddess to Sea Tribes is... unwise."
Her fingers brushed the figurine's inky eyes.
"Though your skepticism isn't unfounded. The lack of historical evidence is why the sect dwindled to a handful of fishermen and Roa's traditionalists."
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