Chapter 123
Theo fell silent for a moment before speaking, affirming the knowledge he possessed about his student's fate, fully aware of the implicit truth about Erietta's death and her inability to be remembered by anyone, including her own family.
And that was something Theo had tried to convey in a way that minimized the risk of damaging the game world.
That sense of responsibility guided every movement of his pen, every note he wrote, as though the yellow book in his hands was not merely a writing tool, but a medium of control and protection for the fragile reality surrounding them.
Erietta's presence beside him added tension, for every sign of curiosity and attention from her could trigger a chain reaction within the Administrator seed contained in her body.
Theo wrote with a controlled rhythm, as if calming an unstable flow of energy, while still ensuring that his student gained an awareness of her fate without compromising the structure of the world that had been built.
There was a quietness thick with meaning between them—space filled with fine observation, the rhythm of the pen, and the awareness that a single misstep could threaten the integrity of Flo Viva Mythology.
"However, there is one exception. Your death cannot be prevented unless you fully understand the meaning of becoming someone pure."
'Meaning, Erietta must understand the experience of being tainted before she can transform into the Pure One—the inverse of Aldraya, who must first understand purity before becoming the Misshapen One.'
The room remained silent though tension piled up, as if every particle of air absorbed the weight of the thoughts lingering between them.
Theo sat calmly, his eyes occasionally drifting to the open pages of the yellow book, the pen moving slowly yet decisively as it recorded every dynamic occurring around him.
He understood that Erietta's fate could not be altered—not unless she could internalize the meaning of the transformation that awaited her.
And within Theo's mind, a faint murmur echoed the paradox of her journey.
'To become the Pure One, Erietta must first understand filth, mistakes, and the bitterness hidden in every step of her life.'
It was a concept opposite to Aldraya's path, who had to delve into holiness before transforming into the Misshapen One—marking the thin line between understanding, experience, and destiny for each individual within this fragile yet meaningful world.
The energy around them felt tense, as if aware of the weight of responsibility carried by Theo as both overseer and teacher.
Every stroke of his pen, every rhythm etched into the yellow book, became a medium to channel awareness that could not be spoken through ordinary words.
Theo measured every movement, ensuring that his influence did not disturb the balance of the Administrator seed hidden within Erietta.
He knew that her ignorance could prove fatal to the entire structure of Flo Viva Mythology, and thus every instruction he provided had to be carefully regulated, flowing like a gentle current that hid tremendous force beneath its surface.
Erietta's limited understanding became the focal point of Theo's observation.
He restrained himself from answering directly, allowing his student to contemplate the meaning behind his words, the meaning behind the rhythm of his pen against the paper.
The death awaiting her was not merely an ending, but a doorway to transformation—one that required acceptance, sacrifice, and deep self-reflection.
Theo understood that this lesson was not about physical ability or strategy, but about meaning—about life, death, and the transformation that must be embraced with full awareness.
'Is she afraid, or something else?'
Everything stopped.
Under the dim light, fine dust swirled slowly, silently witnessing the sudden stillness that gripped the room.
The reflection of light in Erietta's eyes shifted quickly, like a calm lake suddenly struck by a stone.
Her widened eyes captured the first wave of shock, a reception of truth far too harsh to absorb in a single moment.
Then the shock dissolved into a physical unease, visible through her breath that suddenly caught and the way her fingers unconsciously tightened against the folds of her dress.
But beneath the shock and unease was something deeper—something darker—that Theo's sharp perception immediately caught.
There was a tremor of fear.
Not fear of death—the one he had mentioned—but fear of something nameless, perhaps the truth of her own nature or a fate that felt like a labyrinth without an exit.
Theo Vkytor observed her without blinking, his pen frozen just above the open yellow page.
The teacher's mind raced, analyzing every micro-expression on his student's face.
The fear itself wasn't strange.
What puzzled him—and made him cautious—was the source and nature of that fear.
Was it fear of ignorance? Of the shadow of death looming before her? Or was it something more primal—a resonance from the Administrator seed buried within her, reacting to danger or a fundamental truth that threatened her stability?
Each possibility carried different consequences for the fragile balance of Flo Viva Mythology.
'I've thought this through thoroughly.
My words aren't meant to alter the scenario, but to prepare her.
Erietta must contemplate her own philosophy—learn to face filth and purity—before the time comes for her to become the Pure One.
If I'm too explicit, she might lose control during the transformation.
It's better for her to feel a little fear now than be overwhelmed later.'
Every stroke of his pen on the yellow pages felt like a subtle map, marking the paths of observation and guidance he carefully chose.
He knew his words weren't merely information, but a concealed form of guidance—allowing Erietta to weigh the meaning of her life without disrupting the scenario meticulously crafted in Flo Viva Mythology.
Theo understood that Erietta's transformation into the main boss of the first arc, episode twelve, was inevitable; his task was not to change that fate, but to prepare her to face it with awareness and stability, reducing the chance of hysteria that could disrupt both narrative balance and her internal equilibrium.
Theo's precision was visible in the way he restrained himself, choosing not to answer explicitly yet still planting seeds of understanding within Erietta's thoughts.
He knew that true learning did not come from direct answers, but from a student's ability to interpret, contemplate, and internalize every subtle instruction.
Every sentence he chose, every guidance he delivered, flowed like a delicate current leading Erietta through the layered complexities of life philosophy, experience, and responsibility waiting ahead.
Theo's patience was not passive—it was a deliberate strategy combining influence, observation, and energetic control to ensure his student grew with full consciousness.
"A samurai hallucinating about being a writer?"
"From the start, I have always been a writer.
Samurai or not, a pen is still sharper than a sword when a story must be carved."
The tense silence shifted into a gentle ripple when Erietta spoke that remark.
Her eyes remained flat, her face expressionless, yet the words carried a sharp undertone of mockery.
Theo heard the nickname with full awareness, and rather than feeling offended, a small wave of satisfaction stirred within him.
A soft laugh escaped him—light yet warm—like a note that balanced the atmosphere between them.
He realized that the tease was not mere ridicule, but a subtle acknowledgment from his student—an acknowledgment of his presence as someone capable of influencing and guiding without stripping her of autonomy or dignity.
With a calm yet firm response, Theo confirmed his identity, emphasizing that he had always been a writer, not a samurai lost in delusion.
His answer was not merely self-defense, but a reinforcement of his role within this intricate world—both as teacher and second narrative overseer of Flo Viva Mythology.
The energy radiating from his words balanced the space, giving Erietta the room to understand that their interaction was not simply an exchange of jabs, but a fine lesson that demanded awareness, observation, and acceptance of a broader reality.
Theo remained seated, his eyes occasionally drifting to the open yellow book, yet his gaze carried a calm, quiet delight.
He enjoyed this small dynamic, realizing that his student's mockery was a sign of progress—a signal that Erietta had begun to express herself without the shield of her usual "flatness," and that her trust and perception toward her teacher had begun to find resonance within her.
To be continued…