Chapter 351: The Witch Seizes Hope
Boom—!
Summer storms often arrived without warning.
A bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the land in a ghastly white flash that cast an eerie, unsettling atmosphere.
The deafening thunder that followed roared like war drums, reverberating between heaven and earth, shaking one's very skull.
Roy, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them and peered through the small skylight. Tonight, there were no stars or moon—only thick, churning clouds, crackling with lightning and thunder. The house's poor insulation let in the howling wind and the creeping chill of the storm.
Satella, asleep on the bed, jolted awake and scrambled to rush outside.
Roy swiftly caught her slender, pale wrist. The half-elf girl's skin was smooth, her frame delicate.
"What are you going to do? It's not safe to go out so late, and it looks like there's going to be a heavy rain."
Roy thought Satella must have some urgent matter.
"I'm going outside to find something to cover the rain, Lord Roy! This house leaks."
Satella said hurriedly, then lowered her head in embarrassment, "...I'm sorry for making you stay in such a shabby place for the night."
In the half-elf girl's eyes, a noble of Roy's refined demeanor should be living in luxurious palaces, surrounded by countless attendants catering to his every need.
"While I do spend most of my time living the kind of life you imagine, that doesn't mean I can't endure minor hardships like this."
Satella's eyes clearly betrayed her thoughts.
In both the Campione world and the Moonlit World, Roy had lived lives of unimaginable luxury befitting his high status. But during his time in the Land of Shadows, he endured five years of training with nothing but constant battle. Scáthach's training was extremely harsh, yet it prepared Roy to face any adversity.
Roy looked up at the wooden roof. Satella wasn't a professional builder, and her self-made house was indeed substandard. Such purely wooden structures naturally struggled against the elements.
To be honest, people in the slums never had moments without struggle. Summer was relatively better, with only heavy rains to contend with, but winter's cold could truly be deadly.
Roy traced a finger through the air, and an arcane rune suddenly appeared. As the rune faded into the void, Satella was astonished to see a mysterious glow emerge from the crude wooden roof.
The Primordial Runes - these were originally the secret knowledge of the great god Odin, with even Brynhildr only grasping the basics. But due to her mythological connection with the Nordic winter goddess Skadi, Scáthach, the Queen of the Land of Shadows, had mastered this divine secret.
As his teacher, she had passed down these Primordial Runes to Roy, making him the only one among Scáthach's many students to learn them. Great heroes like Cú Chulainn had at most learned the native Celtic magecraft.
The Runes were too profound - even Roy hadn't mastered them completely. But this runic system was incredibly versatile, useful not just in combat but also providing many conveniences in daily life.
"Is this magic?"
Unless one was a specialist or a mage studying Nordic culture, most people wouldn't recognize the Runes, let alone a witch from another world.
To Satella, Roy's mysterious display could only be some unknown form of magic.
"You could call it a type of magic."
Seeing the curiosity and admiration on Satella's face, Roy chuckled, "...When there's time, I can teach you."
"Thank you, Lord Roy!"
Satella gave a small cheer, finally showing some of the cheerfulness befitting a girl of sixteen or seventeen.
"Go to sleep now."
Roy urged her.
"But... perhaps you should take the bed, and I'll sleep on the floor."
Satella said hesitantly.
"Mages don't need much sleep. I'm used to going without, so don't worry about me."
Shatilla's bed was small and worn-out. Even when Roy sat on it alone, it would creak under his weight. With two people, it would likely collapse, and Roy wasn't so heartless as to fight a pitiful girl for a bed.
"Is that so..."
Shatilla knew little about mages. Since Roy said so, she could only believe him, not daring to question it.
"Sleep, Shatilla! Tomorrow will be better."
The half-elf girl was truly exhausted. Every day was the same—walking long distances from dawn till dusk searching for food, especially during the harsh winters.
Though she had nimble hands that could craft small items to sell, her mixed blood as a half-elf made it difficult for her to enter what she saw as the grand capital city.
"Woooooooo——————"
Outside, the wind howled like ghosts wailing. The dilapidated little wooden hut trembled under the gale, as if it might collapse at any moment.
Yet Shatilla seemed experienced in weathering summer storms. Though the hut looked precarious, it held firm.
"Pitter-patter——————"
The downpour arrived, raindrops drumming incessantly on the roof. Exhausted, Shatilla curled into a ball like a kitten as she fell into deep sleep. Her body trembled slightly, lips murmuring faint words, until a mist gathered at the corners of her eyes, forming a pearl-like tear.
Roy leaned down, bringing his ear closer to her. She seemed trapped in a nightmare, her sleeping expression fearful, her whispers sounding like "Papa... Mama..."
With a soft sigh, Roy took her trembling little hand in his large one. The "Witch of Envy's" fingers were slender, her skin like fine jade, yet her palm was as cold as winter ice, chilling to the touch.
"Cold hands and feet mean a child lacks love."
Then, in the pitch-black night, Roy saw a pair of beautiful eyes—like gemstones, glowing with an amethyst hue.
Outside, thunder roared and ghostly winds howled, yet amid the storm's darkness, those crystalline violet eyes met his gaze.
The moment Roy took her hand, Shatilla startled awake—a sign of the girl's deep insecurity.
The witch's cheeks were slightly flushed with shyness. She tried to pull her hands free from Roy's grasp, but she couldn't break away from his firm hold.
A faint warmth spread from their intertwined fingers, seeping through her arms and permeating her entire body, bringing her an unprecedented sense of safety and comfort.
Satella wanted to keep holding his hands like this forever, but the bashfulness of a maiden made her feel it was wrong to do so.
"Rest well, sleep soundly. I'll stay right here with you. You're not alone anymore."
Hearing that gentle voice and seeing the tender smile on the man's face before her, Satella found herself unconsciously murmuring an "Mm," before closing her eyes.
She felt that what she was holding wasn't just a hand—it was hope.
The only hope in her seventeen years of lonely existence.
She drifted back to sleep.
Silently, Roy removed his robe and draped it over the girl's delicate frame. There were no warm blankets in her room, and he couldn't fathom how she had endured the cold winters before.