That evening, Durandal and Elysia, who had originally planned to find a hotel in the small town, ended up staying directly at Connie's estate.
After all, Connie was already a member of the Flame-Chasers—this estate was practically the organization's asset. What was wrong with staying at their own place?
Connie had initially intended to offer her own master bedroom to Durandal, but the latter politely declined.
Connie seemed to realize something and didn't press further. Instead, she arranged two adjacent guest rooms for Durandal and Elysia, repeatedly assuring them that neither room had been occupied before.
She also had the estate's servants quickly head into town to buy several sets of pajamas and undergarments tailored to their measurements.
After her bath, Durandal didn't head straight to bed. Instead, she went to the window, opened it, and sat on the windowsill, letting the night breeze tousle her half-dried golden waves.
Gazing blankly up at the serene night sky, she watched as the pure moonlight cascaded down, illuminating the earth and stirring a faint trace of homesickness in her heart.
It was true—without any warning, she'd gone from being an ordinary college girl to becoming Durandal, inexplicably thrust into the Previous Era, carrying a Gnius that only she could hear, and being called the 'savior'…
If she hadn't inherited everything that made Durandal who she was…
No, even with all of Durandal's legacy, she still felt unfit to bear the weight of that title.
As a devoted Honkai Impact 3rd player, Durandal never skipped dialogue—not even in the Elysian Realm—so she was well-acquainted with the story of the Previous Era.
She didn't believe that her foreknowledge alone would allow her to outperform the very Flame-Chasers themselves.
But… she had to believe she could do it!
In this world, the only thing that still felt connected to her own was the moon hanging in the sky.
Even if it wasn't the same moon… she could pretend it was.
At the very least, Durandal couldn't tell the difference.
Just as she was wondering whether to recite a poem, the window next to hers suddenly swung open.
A familiar, delicate fragrance drifted over with the breeze, followed by a sweet, melodious voice: "Mmm~ What a lovely night. I'm sure I'll sleep wonderfully tonight~?"
"Oh!"
As if noticing Durandal's gaze resting on her, the Miss Pink Elf turned her head with a soft gasp, covering her mouth with one small hand in an utterly charming gesture.
Then, she lowered her hand and shot Durandal an indignant glare. "What are you staring at? Never seen a beautiful girl like me before?"
With that, Elysia pulled her upper body back inside. A moment later, a pair of slender, flawless hands reached out from the neighboring window and slammed it shut with a thud.
Even though their windows were some distance apart, Durandal couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just been metaphorically shut out right in front of Elysia's face.
Still, the sight of Elysia in that pink silk pajama set, still softly glowing with the moisture from her bath, was truly something lovely~
A slight smile touched her lips as Durandal hopped back inside from the windowsill, closing the window behind her. She murmured softly, "Elysia's right… it really is a good night for sleep."
She slept dreamlessly through the night. At five in the morning, winter's darkness still clung to the world outside, yet Durandal found her eyes opening—compelled by the powerful biological clock this body had honed over nearly a decade.
If she were honest, she'd probably woken even earlier—maybe around four?
After a quick glance at the time, she firmly decided to go back to sleep.
But how easy was it to break a habit cultivated over ten years?
After tossing and turning for an hour without any hint of drowsiness, Durandal gave up and rose, heading into the bathroom to wash up.
Once freshened up, she stood before two choices: a clothing bag sent over by Connie's staff last night, and the outfit she'd bought yesterday using Elysia's credit card. Without hesitation, she picked the latter.
After all, she'd only worn it for half a day—it wasn't time for a change yet, she told herself.
With that settled, Durandal opened her door and stepped out.
About fifteen minutes later, around half-past five, the estate's servants began to stir, starting their morning cleaning duties.
The moment they spotted Durandal—the fierce woman who'd single-handedly fought through the entire estate with just a lance—they tensed up and lowered their heads nervously.
After a pause, one of them gasped softly, turned, and hurried off to rouse the estate's chef, urging them to prepare an early breakfast for their honored guest.
Durandal simply shook her head at the scene. Soon, she made her way to the estate's rear courtyard, settled into a stance, and began practicing a martial form.
Not quite satisfied after that, she moved seamlessly into a set of Kaslana Gun-Kata.
As she concluded her routine, the sound of applause from nearby didn't surprise her—she'd sensed the other's approach some time ago.
Turning, she confirmed it was indeed Elysia.
Coincidentally, Elysia hadn't put on the new clothes Connie provided either; she was wearing the same outfit as yesterday, a different color but the same style as Durandal's.
Back in her old world, this would've been called a "bestie fit"… or maybe even a couples' set.
She figured this world probably had similar terms.
"I have to say, even though you kind of get on my nerves, your combat skills and strength are still pretty impressive," Elysia remarked.
Durandal raised an eyebrow at that, then pointed at Elysia, and gestured beside herself.
Elysia looked surprised. "You mean… you want to teach me the fighting techniques you just used?"
"Why not? Come over here."
Durandal beckoned.
Elysia hesitated for a moment, but ultimately walked over.
Though she had her own distinct combat style, it was still immature—whereas Durandal's movements were clearly refined through years of iteration, perfectly suited for real battle.
If she could learn them and integrate them into her own fighting, her abilities would likely improve significantly.
Seeing Elysia approach as expected, Durandal allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smile to touch her lips. Then, she shifted into a starting stance, demonstrating for the other girl.
Once Elysia made up her mind, she threw herself into learning with serious focus.
Of course, as a beginner, she sometimes stumbled—postures slightly off, force applied in the wrong way, too much strength here or not enough there.
Despite her normally impatient nature, Durandal now revealed the qualities of a good teacher—displaying rare patience, tirelessly explaining every misstep, and even personally correcting Elysia's various mistakes with her own hands.
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