Heh.

Gurgling sounds echoed as two freshly severed heads spun across the ground.

She hurriedly covered her eyes, forcing herself to suppress the discomfort rising in her chest and the sourness threatening her throat. Life was unbearable! In that darkness, she let out a silent scream—a lament for her own reckless curiosity. Why had she come to see the guillotine? Now her mind was haunted by what she’d witnessed: heads rolling, blood everywhere, her heart racing, her entire being unsettled.

As she muttered complaints to herself, the grisly scene replayed over and over in her mind—wet, crimson, relentless. She mentally slapped herself. Idiot! She wasn’t the Hand of Noxus, after all—a legendary executioner from a famous online game, known for his decapitations. What business did she have watching such carnage?

Her self-inflicted reprimands did little to calm her nerves. Shivering, she instinctively moved toward Lance, seeking comfort. Yet, the expected reassurance or playful banter did not come. Instead, she witnessed a sight she had never seen before: Lance, the ever-smiling, enigmatic, untouchable teacher, was actually startled.

He didn’t tremble or flinch, but she could tell from his bewildered, conflicted expression and the rare pallor of his face that the decapitations had unsettled him.

What should she do? Comfort him? Pat his shoulder and boast, “See, your big sister isn’t afraid!” and pretend to be brave? Or perhaps she should surrender to her impulse, sit down right then and sketch this rare scene to use as future blackmail?

She was torn. In that moment of indecision, Lance recovered, his gaze steady, breath calm, heartbeat even, and that familiar smile returning to his face.

Her dilemma vanished, replaced by frustration. She squatted in a corner, drawing circles on the ground in defeat. Zombies! What injustice! Such a golden opportunity wasted—she’d probably never get to see it again.

“What are you doing in the corner, morning sickness?” The familiar teasing voice came from behind. She stiffly turned her head to glare at the now-animated Lance and retorted, “If anyone should be nauseous, it’s you, after the scared little display you just put on!”

Bang! A crisp knock to her skull rang out. She clutched her freshly acquired lump, tears welling in her eyes as she huddled in the corner. Lance’s face was half-hidden in the shadow of his bangs, only his eyes glowing with a faint red light visible.

Indeed, all sarcasm, criticism, and accusations were but fleeting clouds when faced with absolute violence. They simply could not withstand it. She confirmed this truth, tears streaming down her face.

“Let’s go. Pack away all those fears and disgust in your head. Don’t forget our destination,” Lance flashed his familiar mischievous smile. “You won’t be able to avoid blood, you know!”

She hurried to her feet. “I’m not squeamish about blood, I just don’t like it!” she insisted, patting her chest as if to guarantee, “I’ll never be scared on the battlefield!”

Lance watched her walk ahead, limbs out of sync, amusement flickering in his eyes. He whispered, “When we return to Akasia, you’ll have a chance to learn something about me.”

She stumbled, her gaze shifting from the road ahead to Lance, her voice soft and haunting, “When will that be? Can you give me a definite time?”

“No,” Lance denied with a smile. “But I can promise you one thing: the method I mentioned will absolutely let you return to your original world.”

The sudden mention of her long-forgotten goal startled her. “Don’t worry, I haven’t doubted you just because I heard about the four legendary artifacts’ use for the ancient sealing array,” she stammered, flustered.

What was meant as a simple reassurance had unexpectedly been met with suspicion. Lance raised a brow and gave her a cold, amused look.

She took a step back, nervously swallowing, mentally berating herself, “Idiot! Can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?”

“You said yourself it was only a legend, so I—” her voice dwindled, losing confidence.

“Ah,” Lance surprisingly didn’t get angry, merely sighed and caught up with her, placing his hand gently on her head to smooth her hair. “Whatever happens, just remember this—about this matter, I will never deceive you.”

With those words, Lance walked ahead without looking back.

She stood there, dazed, unsure how to respond to his sudden reflections on trust. For some reason, watching Lance’s figure fade into the distance, she felt a sense of “a hero leaving, never to return.”

Impossible, she thought, clutching her anxious heart. Could it be that Lance was tired of her company and wanted to leave?

Next came the journey to Akasia. All the way, her thoughts were in turmoil, red warning lights flashing in her mind—Lance was leaving.

But what did any of this matter to her? Her heart was full of conflict. After all, every banquet must end, and she and Lance were mere acquaintances thrown together by fate. He had already done more than enough by helping her so far. Even if Lance suddenly decided not to go to Akasia anymore, she had no right to stop him.

With this realization, she awakened from her meditation.

To fulfill his promise to her, Lance chose not to use the faster “Beast of Burden” traveling method for their journey from Silver City back to Akasia. Instead, he opted for the slower, steadier carriage.

“A stable space gives you more time to meditate. If you want to improve your abilities, the most important thing is basic training. Without a foundation, there’s no progress. Starting today, you must train eight hours every day. The first four hours, focus on increasing your magical energy—the more, the better. The next four, purify and condense your magical energy—the denser, the better. The rest of your time, except for eating, sleeping, and necessary breaks, must be spent in the carriage, thoroughly digesting the Four-Element Mage Journal given to you. If there’s time, I may consider teaching you how to use electrical magic.”

That was Lance’s training schedule before they set out. After listing it, he gave her a chilling smile. “Of course, you can choose not to follow it. But as your teacher, I won’t go easy on you when punishing my apprentice.” As he spoke, golden lightning crackled from his hands, leaping toward her with a threatening hiss.