Yilu finally managed to calm herself down, sitting there like a deflated balloon.
Her eyes were hazy with a faint mist, yet it never coalesced into tears, as if she had forgotten how to weep or cry.
Lyr sighed.
Regardless of anything else, the girl had finally regained her composure.
At the very least, it proved that Yilu had a conviction she was determined to hold on to.
It was just that this persistence showed no sign of dawn in the near future.
Lyr sat down across from her and glanced at the Magic Core resting near Yilu’s hand.
Although she was no longer making any move to grab it, Lyr took the Magic Core and placed it by his side just to be safe.
He hesitated to speak.
Recalling his tone from earlier, he honestly felt he might have been a bit too harsh.
He thought about what to say, but when the words reached his lips, he chose to remain silent for the time being.
Under the current circumstances, it was better to let Yilu compose herself.
Like a fire that had just been doused, it was best not to disturb it too soon, or a spark might flare up again.
And so, Lyr and Yilu sat across from each other.
While Yilu stared blankly with her thoughts unknown, Lyr looked around the room.
He had heard Yilu say before that she would move out to live alone one day; at the time, Lyr thought she was joking.
Looking closer now, the room was so simple and devoid of any decorations that it truly felt like she was ready to leave at any moment, rather than someone who planned to stay.
Magic Cores, large and small, were still scattered across the table and the floor.
In truth, these items were the best proof of Yilu’s efforts.
Aside from the one time he had helped her, she must have hunted these Magical Beasts all on her own.
A Noble Lady still at the Academy, going out alone at night to the outskirts of the Royal Capital to hunt Magical Beasts, all to find a shortcut that might very well cost her her life.
Lyr didn’t know whether to call her impressive or excessively obsessive.
‘When it’s time to go, I have to take these things away,’ Lyr muttered to himself.
Yilu had obtained these things herself, but given her recent behavior, letting her stay with them was far too dangerous.
It wasn’t a good situation.
After a long while, the dazed Yilu let out a strange, cold laugh.
It was very faint, but in the room occupied only by the two of them, it was exceptionally clear.
Lyr shifted his gaze back to Yilu and found that the light was returning to her eyes.
The mist in her sockets had long since vanished.
She looked at Lyr, her voice raspy from her earlier screaming.
“All you do is say such grand, hollow words.”
Even if she had taken Lyr’s words to heart, she still felt a sense of resistance.
Anyone can sound eloquent when judging others from a bystander’s perspective.
This was one of the reasons why Yilu hated having deep interactions with others.
She made her own judgments for her own actions, but sometimes she didn’t know what was right or wrong, or even where she would eventually end up.
However, there were some things she had truly listened to.
If she had actually killed Lyr just now, or even killed those people after absorbing the power of the Magic Core, all her previous persistence and hard work would have truly been in vain.
Even she found it pathetic.
Everyone was denying her, and in the end, she was almost about to deny herself as well.
Thinking about it that way, she really was a pathetic person.
“If you want to put it that way, there’s nothing I can do,” Lyr replied.
He didn’t argue.
Being scolded by this girl was better than taking a forceful elbow to the ribs like before.
Even now, Lyr’s arm still throbbed with a faint pain.
He wondered if it had bruised.
Yilu observed the man before her, feeling an indescribable sense of strangeness.
It was as if he were deliberately paying attention to her.
He always appeared at these inexplicable moments, being just as inexplicable as the man himself.
Yilu’s expression was calm, like stagnant water without a ripple.
“Since you can speak such grand words, then why don’t you tell me? What am I supposed to do?”
This sentence should have been shouted to better suit her emotions, just like before, but unfortunately, she no longer had that kind of strength.
It turned out she had exerted so much effort earlier that now she just wanted to sit there.
Being a puppet didn’t seem so bad.
Or perhaps she was already a puppet — a puppet unable to find the strings that would lead her to understand her purpose.
For so long, her persistence had only been to prove that she wasn’t inferior to others, and that the bloodline of the Shiga Family wasn’t “trash.”
But without the strings to pull her up, even her own actions felt powerless to her.
“How would I know what you should do?”
Lyr gripped his arm.
He could feel the pain beneath his sleeve; it seemed there really was a bruise.
“Heh,” Yilu snorted coldly.
In the end, this guy was no different.
He blocked someone’s path but refused to tell them which way to go instead.
He wouldn’t let her move forward or retreat, leaving her stuck.
This wasn’t help; it would only breed greater resentment.
Lyr was preoccupied and didn’t notice the change in Yilu’s expression.
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do next. What right do I have to give advice to others?”
Thinking of this, Lyr couldn’t help but shake his head.
Despite his calm and collected appearance — or as Yilu put it, acting like a man who speaks grand words — he was actually quite troubled.
In fact, the night before coming to the Academy, he had been so restless that he couldn’t sleep.
And since his Magic Power was weak, if it weren’t for the Geno Family, Lyr felt that no place would have accepted him, let alone hired him as a teacher at the Academy.
Although, he really did want to leave this place.
“Advice, answers… who doesn’t want those things?”
Lyr’s lips twitched as he picked up the Magic Cores that had rolled onto the floor and gathered them.
“Everyone has moments of confusion, and everyone has times where they feel suffocated by pressure, just like you. It’s the same for everyone. Confusion, regret, unbearable pasts, and unanswered prayers. Anyone would subconsciously wonder where their path lies, and what the meaning of their effort and existence truly is.”
After picking up the last Magic Core, Lyr stood up and looked at the night sky.
The blowing wind made him squint.
“Since there is no answer, then the only answer must be that the path is still beneath your feet, and you haven’t reached the end yet. Perhaps… your effort just isn’t enough.”
Lyr walked toward Yilu and reached out his hand to pull her up.
“But the method you were going to use isn’t the answer you want. You don’t want to deny all your hard work, do you?”
The fact that Yilu cared so much about what she had done and was so obsessive about it was exactly what proved she valued her own efforts.
She had simply almost destroyed it all herself.