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Allen Boreas Greyrat.
Male, 11 years old.
Unmarried.
Currently has two women he likes.
Preferences: Beastgirls (fake), l0lis (real).
Currently serving as the private tutor for his younger sister in the Fittoa Region of the Asura Kingdom.
As a teacher, his style is strict—never allowing mischievous students even the slightest chance to skip class.
As a student, he never skips lessons and only takes minimal leave when necessary.
His daily routine is highly disciplined.
Morning: Practicing silent swings on the rooftop.
Noon: Eating at the dining hall.
Afternoon/Evening: Attending group lessons, occasionally skipping magic practice to conserve mana.
Before bed: Always says "See you tomorrow" to his companions—followed by, "Oh, right. Rudeus, Sylphie, I need to take a leave tomorrow morning."
Sleeps at 11 PM, only staying up past midnight once a week—strictly adhering to the principle that "viewing blue-haired 'beauties' aids sleep," never delaying his internal cooldown timer by more than three minutes.
Sleep duration: Eight hours. Without fail, he strokes his Roxy figurine before bed.
Falls asleep instantly, never carrying fatigue or stress into the next day.
Because...
He still has to skip morning lessons with a certain mischievous student to practice the "Soundless Sword" on the rooftop.
Even Sylphie says he's perfectly normal.
But now, the "normal" Allen is facing a dilemma.
"Allen! Take me to the servants' dining hall today! Grandpa and Father aren't in the mansion!"
In the stairway beneath the skylight, Eris—her hair drenched and tangled from the rain, sticking up in wild tufts like a lion's mane—glared at Allen with fiery red eyes, her voice booming with excitement.
Her energy was overwhelming.
Allen could only sigh and cover his face.
The tradition of the young lady eating in the servants' dining hall had started when Hilda, during one of Sauros and Philip's absences, invited them to join her. Eris had been the one to suggest it.
At the time, Hilda had been stirring her vegetable soup with her usual gentle smile when the unexpected request froze her movements. Her expression faltered.
She glanced at Allen first—his face unreadable—then at Eris.
Hesitation flickered across her features.
Sylphie, who had been watching Hilda's reaction closely, opened her mouth to speak—
But Hilda had already agreed.
"Of course, Eris. If eating here makes you and... everyone else more comfortable, then it's fine."
"Thank you, Mother!"
Hilda patted Eris' head with a resigned smile.
And so, whenever Sauros and Philip were away, Eris now scampered around the servants' dining hall like an overexcited puppy.
So why was Allen conflicted?
Because...
The autumn morning rain had stopped.
And the young lady was still soaked.
Earlier, on the rooftop in the rain, Allen's mind had been entirely occupied by "meow—" and swordsmanship. He hadn't even noticed.
But now, with the clouds parting and sunlight streaming through the corridor windows, illuminating Eris...
He realized the problem.
It wasn't about whether her clothes were see-through—her outfit was thick enough to hide anything underneath.
But their matching drenched states would immediately suggest that he had helped her skip class.
And just yesterday...
While Eris was sparring with Ghyslaine during afternoon swordsmanship lessons, Sylphie had pulled him aside and whispered:
"Allen, don't spoil Eris too much. You know how important reading, writing, and arithmetic are."
Under her unblinking gaze, he had reflexively looked away, embarrassed.
Then, with all the solemnity of a vow to the "disciplinary committee," he promised that the next time Eris came to the rooftop, he would "persuade" her to return.
...Yeah.
That persuasion had failed.
If he took her to the dining hall now, it'd be an instant bust.
"Go change. You can't eat in the servants' dining hall today."
"Hah?! But we could before!"
"That was then. This is now. Don't forget—I just told you yesterday not to come to the rooftop again, and here you are. If Rudeus and Sylphie find out you skipped class to see me, they'll scold you, right?"
Eris snorted, narrowing her eyes like a predatory kitten ready to pounce.
Allen met her gaze expressionlessly, unwavering.
"Pleaaase let me eat with you, nya~! ☆"
"No."
Fifteen minutes later, Allen arrived at the servants' dining hall.
He hadn't changed clothes—instead, he'd circulated his battle aura to raise his body temperature, evaporating the moisture from his outfit. Though it remained slightly wrinkled.
Behind him...
Eris followed, now neatly dressed, her hair perfectly combed, looking "refreshed."
A smug grin stretched across her face.
Allen glanced at her, cleared his throat, and scanned the room.
At their usual window-side table, Sylphie and Rudeus were deep in quiet conversation, their eyes flickering toward the entrance every so often—likely waiting for him.
Then, they spotted the pair.
Four pairs of eyes met.
And in the next instant—
"GOOD MORNING, SYLPHIE!"
Eris' booming greeting exploded across the dining hall, drawing every maid's attention.
Who says "good morning" at noon?
The maids chuckled good-naturedly, offering polite greetings as Allen's eye twitched subtly.
"Young Lady, it's already noon~"
"My, the Young Lady is as lively as ever!"
With a series of loud footsteps, Eris marched through the room and plopped down beside Sylphie.
Allen followed, his steps stiff—though his impeccable body control masked it perfectly.
He exchanged a normal greeting with Rudeus, then turned to Sylphie, who was smiling at him.
He nodded, smiling back.
Then quickly—yet naturally—averted his gaze.
"Sorry for the wait. I got a bit too focused on sword practice today..."
As he spoke, he moved to sit across from Eris.
But Rudeus suddenly stood, wobbling slightly, and slid into the seat before Allen could.
Allen blinked.
Rudeus gestured gracefully—his etiquette lessons over the past six months clearly paying off.
His brown eyes seemed to speak:
"Please, take a seat, Mr. Allen."
"You're welcome."
Allen suppressed the violent urge to kick him.
Then he looked up.
Sylphie was right there.
Resting her chin on her hand, watching him.
Her eyes curved like crescents.
More perfect than the arc of Ghyslaine's sword.
And for some reason...
Today, everyone's eyes seemed to be "speaking."
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 235 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 35 power stones I will publish the next chapter.