Chapter 211: Add More

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She walked confidently.

In her right hand, a lantern. In her left, the hand of her childhood friend.

As they continued, Professor Trace stared intently from the side.

Wondering if he had something to say, Riley glanced over, only for the professor to wave him off.

“Ah, don’t mind me. Carry on. Pay no attention to this old man.”

Following his gaze, Riley realized he wasn’t looking at them but at something else—the lantern in Sugar’s hand.

More precisely, he seemed interested in the pupils of someone inside it.

“Would you like to see it up close?”

“No need. I can see it fine from here.”

When Sugar offered the lantern, he shook his head.

“A fascinating object. To think it projects the vision of those eyes…”

Within the lantern’s range, instead of light, there was pitch-black darkness. Faint currents of magical energy drifted through the air like delicate fabric rippling in the wind.

“So… this is the world they saw?”

“What do you think?”

“…I wouldn’t want to see it every day.”

It wasn’t an unpleasant sight. But blue skies and green mountains were preferable.

“Could you tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“Just… what happened between you two. If you’d rather not, that’s fine.”

Riley had heard Louveci and Trace were once mentor and disciple. He also knew Trace now harbored vengeance.

What had happened between them? He’d wondered before—Trace’s grudge didn’t seem ordinary.

When he cautiously asked, the professor surprisingly obliged, reminiscing.

“She was a strange one. Blind, yet loved ‘gazing’ at the sky.”

“Can you even call that gazing?”

“She insisted it was. Said it reminded her of the sky in her memories, so it counted.”

“She had a way with words.”

“Oh, she did. Always did… She especially loved doing it at night. Would drag me up to the rooftop every time.”

—I can’t see, so climbing stairs alone is hard.

“What a joke… She’d deflect fireballs flying at her back without even looking.”

“Sounds like she was incredible.”

“Ever seen anything like it?”

“I remember watching her fight once.”

“I see… Well, as you might’ve guessed, she was an exceptional mage from the start.”

—Huh? Wait… You can’t do this?

“Ugh. Infuriating.”

It was a question from training—one asked with such innocent curiosity that it left him speechless.

“Anyway… How much do you two know about the Shadow Cult?”

“Only what we’ve heard.”

Riley stayed silent as Sugar answered.

“Oh, I know they despise the starry sky.”

“Right. Which made her all the stranger.”

At Sugar’s addition, Trace sank deeper into memory.

“She’d climb up, sit on the railing, light a single match… and just stay there, silent and still… her night-sky hair swaying in the wind for the longest time…”

It must’ve been a fond memory. His expression said as much. No one could look that wistful otherwise.

“…How did it end up like this?”

And yet, how had things come to this?

How had she burned away like that?

“Did you find out she was a heretic?”

“No. We knew for half a year and still stayed together.”

Half a year. A time both long and short, spent knowing they could never truly belong together.

“A foolish story. Just… the end of a young man who foolishly relied on a heretic.”

—Just forget it. Let go of your feelings, Trace.

The professor fell silent, staring into the distance as if done talking.

Sugar, too, walked quietly, scanning the darkness for anything unusual—any clue to escape.

“…That lantern.”

“Hm?”

“You said you brought it from a dream,” Her childhood friend had asked then.

“Yeah.”

‘The presence in my head lent it to me.’

She mouthed the addition. Reading it, her friend pretended not to react, turning their gaze back to the lantern.

“Let me see it for a sec.”

Sugar quickly handed it over, Riley inspected the object closely.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just wanted a better look.”

If Professor Trace was interested in its contents, Riley seemed more curious about the lantern itself.

“Who’d make something like this? Kinda twisted.”

“True. But who…?”

It probably wasn’t made by the Traveler. Maybe she’d acquired it during her long journey?

Sugar, too, found herself curiously pondering when Riley muttered under his breath:

“I’ve been thinking… Setting aside its function, the design and structure are so clean. No unnecessary frills. I like it. Feels like something I’d make.”

A purely objective observation.

The praise, delivered almost as if talking to himself, made Sugar stare holes into the lantern. Her eyes widened at the uncharacteristic compliment, scrutinizing it as if trying to bore through it.

Riley’s gaze narrowed.

“Don’t tell me…”

Sugar shook her head frantically.

“N-No! It’s not like I’m jealous just because you praised some random lantern-maker whose identity you don’t even know—that’d be ridiculous…!”

He hadn’t even said anything yet.

“It’s just… You don’t usually give compliments, so… I kinda, maybe, just a little… wanted to hear one too…”

Her voice trailed off as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

It was a thought that had crossed her mind today. A tiny, lingering dissatisfaction.

There were many words to describe Sugar. Mage. Student. Eccentric. Bold. Sunlit. Evil God’s Saintess. Secretive. Twisted. Love. Responsibility. Childhood friend. Sweetness. Jealousy. Schemer.

Lewd…

But one descriptor that could never be omitted was shamelessness—yet even such a brazen girl could feel inexplicably sulky inside.

‘How could he not give me a single word of praise today…?’

It stung that her friend hadn’t agreed even once when she called herself cute.

Earlier, when she’d gushed over the rabbit-Sugar in the photo, he’d stayed silent until the end.

And just now, too. She’d joked that the mirror rabbits copied her because she was adorable, and he’d brushed it off like nothing.

Her chest felt clouded. Heavy. Not the pleasant kind of frustration—just bitter, without a trace of sweetness.

‘I hate bitter things…’

Logically, she knew this shouldn’t upset her. There was no reason to be offended. She’d acted her usual shameless self, and Riley had reacted as he always did. Throwing a tantrum over it would just seem childish and annoying.

Shouldn’t I be more mature by now?

She was an adult now.

She needed to act composed, calm, dignified—treat Riley with grace.

Don’t be a bother. Think rationally. Who’d want to date a girl like this?

‘Sorry, Sugar. Our relationship is just sex. Anything more is honestly—’

“H-Huu… Hahk… Ugh… G-Guehk…”

Sugar hurriedly dug through her bag for a pill bottle.

“Hey… What’re you taking?”

“Just… regular vitamins…”

(They were sedatives.)

“You’re taking ‘regular vitamins’ right here, right now?”

“Mhm…”

“Stop joking. Tell me the truth. Is something wrong with you?”

I’m healthy.

The problem is I like you too much.

Under Riley’s scrutinizing glare, Sugar rolled her eyes. “Really, it’s fine… These are just like candy…” Only after saying that did he finally relent.

“You’ve been stressed lately?”

He still seemed concerned, asking softly. Riley had already been worried about her recently—ever since that day they’d crossed the line between them, her behavior hadn’t been the same.

“No… I’m really okay.”

“…”

Yet she shook her head, feigning nonchalance, and Riley sighed.

Instead, he granted her silent wish. He’d noticed her sulking all along.

Returning the lantern, he placed a hand atop her white hair.

“You’re doing great, Sugar.”

“Ah…”

Pat pat. His touch was gentler than usual, his voice warmer as he praised her.

“You’ve done well so far. Good job.”

The low timbre of his voice grazed her eardrums, his lips nearly brushing her ear as he whispered, and the storm clouds in Sugar’s heart vanished—replaced by a pink sky. All her dark fantasies scattered into the distance.

“Heehee…”

This is why I keep regressing.

This is why I keep relying on you.

Warm, sweet praise.

The certainty that you understand me.

But is that really all?

What Sugar wanted from Riley wasn’t just this. Even she couldn’t fully grasp the depth of it—it felt dizzyingly vast.

‘Will what I’m craving… be fulfilled just by becoming lovers?’

Would this emptiness, these expectations, this hunger, this thirst—would all of it be sated just by dating him?

Would she be satisfied with just one more label between them?

Mmm. She shook her head immediately.

‘Just being lovers isn’t enough.’

Sugar was capable of self-awareness. It was precisely because she could assess herself objectively that she’d been able to ignore her destructive infatuation until now.

Beneath her shamelessness and sunlit warmth lay a cold rationality.

Now that she was drowning in blind love, who knew how it might change her?

‘…Well.’

That wasn’t something to dwell on now.

For the moment, she had to focus on the task at hand.

“Hey… More… Keep going…”

At her request, Riley continued stroking her hair. Seeing her pouty expression melt into adorable coquetry at just a bit of praise—how could he stop? Riley was the type to get swept up in the mood too.

“Am I doing well?”

“You’re doing well.”

“Am I amazing?”

“Amazing.”

“Am I… good?”

“Good…? Uh. Yeah. Good…”*

His eyes flickered upward slightly at the last one, but overall, she was satisfied.

Then Sugar asked her final, most critical question:

“Hey… Am I… cute…?”

Her cheeks faintly flushed as she peered up at him, and Riley’s heart lurched. His lips parted automatically—

“Way too cu—”

———!!!

All three mages snapped their heads up at once.

The air trembled. A deep, resonant vibration crawled unpleasantly through their bodies.

At the same time, a sharp scream pierced the darkness—a young girl’s voice.

A scream here? Their gazes shot toward the source. In the distance, a swarm of geometric creatures writhed, their forms endlessly stretching, flipping, distorting into jagged lines and planes—hardly something that could be called living.

And among them, a single girl fled. A transparent, gem-like horn protruded from her head.

The situation clicked instantly. Under normal circumstances, this would be shocking—but Sugar only uttered one icy, eerily calm remark:

“…We’ve been interrupted.”