Chapter 7: The Princess’s Invitation and a Father’s Journey

In Trasil’s lore, nothing was without meaning; a seemingly casual choice could, in the future, evolve into a pivotal decision.

Thus, after Lynne exchanged pleasantries with Serina,

he had originally intended to continue his journey with Vivian, seeking his wife, when he was called back by her.

“You two are heading to the royal capital as well, aren’t you? With a princess who knows Alfheim like the back of her hand, I can help you avoid some detours.

What’s more, the recent Black Tide has been erratic, making entry into border towns quite troublesome. Having me along could save you unnecessary time, couldn’t it?”

Considering the princess’s invitation, Lynne mused that having her presence to bypass needless interrogations would indeed be beneficial.

And so, this time, a noble elven princess accompanied the father and daughter.

Surely, the esteemed Second Princess of the Elven Kingdom would possess royal transportation. It had to be faster than traveling on foot.

***

“I apologize, Mr. Lynne! I… I snuck out this time, so I don’t have any of those unicorn carriages or other modes of transport you might be imagining.”

It turned out she had snuck out.

“Therefore, I’m truly sorry!”

Lynne waved away the elven princess’s apology, not truly bothered, though he couldn’t help but feel a touch of regret.

‘Ultimately, he still had to rely on his own two feet!’

Over the past few days, Lynne had finally traversed mountains and rivers, emerging from the Forest of Xien.

Holding Vivian, he stood atop a rise, from which he could glimpse the silhouette of a town not far in the distance.

“That’s Windmill Town. Once we pass through Windmill Town and cross the wilderness hills, we’ll reach Renheim, where we can catch a direct carriage to the royal capital.”

Serina’s voice resonated beside Lynne. He turned his head to see her, cleansed of the bloodstains on her body and hair, shining with a dazzling brilliance, much like a rusted sword polished clean of its grime.

Her long, pure golden hair cascaded to her waist, and the warm sunlight, striking her finely sculpted profile, made her absolutely radiant.

Compared to her previous state, this was Serina truly embodying the splendor of an elven princess.

Lynne’s gaze lingered on Serina’s golden hair, prompting an involuntary sigh of admiration; she was indeed the Second Princess, elegant and resplendent.

Within her veins flowed the purest Morning Star bloodline, a purity evidenced by the faint, bright starlight shimmering at the tips of her hair.

Despite this, Lynne’s personal verdict remained: his Childhood friend’s silver hair was still more beautiful.

Yet, Serina, with her golden hair, clad in armor, and bearing a greatsword taller than herself, coupled with the resolve she had previously displayed,

made Lynne feel, no matter how he looked at her, that she resembled less an elf and more a Holy Knight of Avalon.

“I recall the Morningstar royal family inheriting a high-grade fairy lineage, correct?” Lynne couldn’t help but ask, curiosity piqued.

“Y-yes, that’s right, but my constitution is somewhat unique. I can’t channel Aether to construct magic through incantations, which means I can’t inherit the royal lineage’s magical traditions.”

“While I can’t learn magic, I do possess some talent in swordsmanship stances, you see. The greatsword on my back serves as proof.”

Though Serina feigned cheerfulness in her tone, a subtle trace of disappointment flickered across her face as she explained, a hint of dejection in her voice.

In this world existed a mystical force known as Aether. Individuals gifted with the ability to resonate with Aether could channel it for their own use through various means, such as incantations, sword stances, runes, or gospels.

While seemingly numerous, all these methods could ultimately be distilled into a single process: perception, resonance, guidance, and finally, release.

The method of channeling Aether through incantations was known as magic, and those talented individuals who could communicate with Aether to construct magical spells by chanting were called spellcasters.

Unlike other methods, resonating with Aether to form magical power and constructing a spell were two distinct matters.

As a princess unable to construct magic through incantations, Lynne could well imagine Serina’s challenging position within the royal family.

The Elven Kingdom of Alfheim revered magic, especially among its royalty. A royal member incapable of magic would inevitably be relegated to the fringes, overlooked and undervalued.

Observing this, Lynne suddenly spoke, “Serina, have you ever considered going to Avalon to learn their lineage? With your potential to become a knight, you might even join the ranks of the Round Table Knights.”

“Avalon’s lineage doesn’t discriminate by birth; as long as one possesses an unyielding will and embodies the spirit of knighthood, even an elf can become a knight.

Or, if you don’t wish to be a knight, there’s also the path of a Saintess. An Elven Saintess—the very thought is thrilling. And I believe Avalon and the elves are allies, aren’t they?”

However, before Lynne could finish his sentence, Serina interrupted him.

“That won’t do… A royal elf studying a foreign lineage would generate negative public opinion if word got out, and could even be exploited by ill-intentioned individuals.”

Serina offered a wry smile:

“Besides, I’m not favored within the royal family, so resources wouldn’t be allocated to an elf like me.”

‘Not favored…?’

Lynne recalled that before Serina was completely corrupted by the Black Tide, it was the Queen who had preemptively sealed her within a precious crystal coffin in the corridor, delaying the progression of the corruption.

If she wasn’t favored, why would such efforts be made? Lynne felt Serina’s statement was somewhat biased.

Still, he said no more, for it was another’s family affair, and he was merely a traveler passing through.

“I-I see…” Lynne found himself at a loss for words.

After calling Vivian back from her play in the flower field, Lynne resumed their journey.

Perhaps due to finally leaving the Forest of Sien, Lynne’s spirits were exceptionally buoyant along the way. In contrast, Serina trailed behind, appearing lost in thought.

Lynne suspected he might have inadvertently touched upon a painful subject for her. Though unintentional, bringing up old wounds still felt rather impolite.

However, with her head bowed and remaining silent, Lynne couldn’t find an opportune moment to apologize.

“Papa—”

Vivian’s childish voice broke Lynne’s reverie.

“What is it, Vivian?” Lynne asked with a gentle smile.

Though Lynne felt a pang of guilt for reminding Serina of unpleasant memories, in Vivian’s presence, his daughter’s concerns took precedence.

“Here—” Vivian beamed an innocent smile, then placed a flower crown on Lynne’s head. “This is Papa’s crown!”

Lynne, surprised, reached up to touch the flower crown atop his head. The thought that he hadn’t even noticed his sweet daughter weaving it for him brought tears of vexation to his eyes.

“W-w-w-wait, so Vivian was quiet because she was making Papa a flower crown?” Lynne instantly transformed into a doting father, hugging Vivian tightly and nuzzling his cheek against her chubby one.

“No, Papa, it’s a crown!” Vivian corrected him, utterly serious.

“Alright~” Lynne gazed at the serious expression on his daughter’s tender face, unable to help but marvel at how much she had grown. To have such strong crafting skills at only four years old—she was truly his and Tiya’s daughter.

‘Allocating some skill points to dexterity back then had truly been the correct decision.’

Lynne’s lips curved upward as he dotingly stroked Vivian’s hair. “Papa will cherish it dearly!”

“Mm…!” Vivian’s innocent smile was like spun sugar, and Lynne felt his heart melt with just one glance.

‘How I wish Tiya could see her daughter and mine soon.’

“I also wove a crown for Mama!”

Vivian then showed Lynne another flower crown, likewise woven from forget-me-nots.

Forget-me-nots… flowers symbolizing eternal love and remembrance.

Lynne’s gaze softened as he looked at his daughter. “Do you miss Mama, Vivian?”

“I wish… I wish Mama were still here.”

Serina, who had been walking behind, suddenly lifted her head, the heartwarming scene of the father and daughter reflected in her emerald pupils.

“Mama…”

Serina murmured softly.

Perhaps it was a hallucination, but in Serina’s vision, her mother appeared, holding her hand as a child.

“Mother…?” Serina’s eyes widened, but the next second, the image dispersed, as if blown away by a gust of wind.

It was as if what she had just witnessed was nothing more than an illusion.

Hearing the sound, Lynne turned, asking with a puzzled expression, “What’s wrong?”

As if caught doing something embarrassing as a child, a flush of awkwardness spread across Serina’s face.

‘She hadn’t expected her subconscious murmur to be overheard. To still miss her mother so much at her age… surely it would be deemed unfitting for a royal princess if word got out?’

“Ahem, nothing.” Serina cleared her throat softly, subtly composing her expression before changing the subject. “It’s just… I sense that you and your wife have a wonderful relationship, Mr. Lynne.”

Upon hearing this, Lynne offered a heartfelt smile. “Indeed… I love her very much, but alas…”

“Alas?” Serina caught the keyword, and suddenly recalled Vivian’s earlier words.

‘Wait—alas, if only she were still here. The image of Lynne raising his child alone spontaneously arose in her mind.’

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lynne, I didn’t mean to bring up… your painful memories.” Serina apologized, a look of remorse on her face.

“Indeed, when I awoke in the Forest of Sien and didn’t see her, I was deeply saddened. But if it were Tiya, she would be even more heartbroken than I am, so I cannot let her wait any longer.”

As Lynne’s words faded, Serina blinked her confused eyes. “Huh?”

“That reaction of yours? You didn’t possibly think… my wife was still waiting for me in the royal capital, did you?”

The air seemed to freeze.

Only then did Serina realize her misunderstanding, a blush of shame coloring her pale skin.

‘Ah—!’

‘How embarrassing for an elf!’