Chapter 5: Morning Grooming.

Morning light, carrying a touch of lazy warmth, slipped through the heavy velvet curtains in thin golden threads across the carpet.

When Hill woke, there was none of yesterday’s panic.

Her body seemed to have already begun adapting to that cloud-soft double bed—and to the constant, steady heat source beside her.

She shifted her somewhat stiff neck and realized her head was pillowed on a soft arm.

One of Phyllis’s arms was wrapped around her waist. Her cheek rested almost against the nape of Hill’s neck. Warm, rhythmic breaths brushed across her skin, carrying a pleasant milky fragrance.

“…Honestly.”

Hill let out a helpless sigh and tried to nudge the blanket aside just a little.

Though they had agreed before sleep to “each take one side,” somehow they had ended up tangled together like conjoined twins.

Carefully, very gently, Hill began to ease Phyllis’s arm from around her waist.

But the instant she gained the slightest bit of freedom…

“Mmm… Hill?”

Phyllis let out a soft, sleepy nasal hum. Her lashes fluttered, then slowly lifted.

Those deep blue eyes still carried the watery haze of just waking—drowsy, completely unguarded.

“Ah, good morning.”

Hill froze mid-motion, awkwardly withdrawing her hand.

“Sorry… did I wake you?”

“Good morning…”

Phyllis rubbed her eyes, then rubbed her cheek against the pillow like a cat, revealing a smile so full of happiness it almost made Hill feel guilty for existing.

“I slept so comfortably… It’s the first time I’ve felt this safe since leaving the convent.”

She hid the words “because Hill is here” inside that smile, but Hill still felt the heavy weight of trust behind it.

“It’s getting late. We should get up and prepare for the quest.”

To cover the inexplicable quickening of her heartbeat, Hill threw back the covers and sat up.

When she stepped barefoot onto the carpet and reached for the somewhat rough wooden comb to tame her bed-mussed silver hair out of habit,

Phyllis had already appeared silently behind her.

“Let me.”

Phyllis took the comb from Hill’s hand and gently pressed her down onto the cushioned stool in front of the vanity.

“I can do it myself…”

Hill tried to protest.

In her previous life as Rayne, she had once grown her hair long to keep it out of her eyes during battle, but she had always just tied it back roughly with a piece of grass cord—wild and practical.

“No, you can’t.”

Phyllis looked at the girl in the mirror—exquisite features, yet stubbornly reluctant expression—and her gaze was gentle but unyielding.

“Hill’s hair is silver silk. If you pull too hard, it will break. And besides…”

She leaned down. Slender fingers moved deftly through the strands. A faint magical glow shimmered in her palm.

It was a low-tier water-element潤泽术—normally used to maintain precious magical staves—but now she was lavishly applying it to smooth Hill’s hair.

“If Hill goes out looking all disheveled, I—as her partner—would lose face.”

Another reason impossible to argue against.

Hill looked into the mirror.

Under Phyllis’s careful hands, the once somewhat dry and tangled silver hair became sleek as flowing water, radiating a soft luster.

Phyllis’s expression was as focused as though she were sculpting a sacred statue. Every so often her fingertips grazed the shell of Hill’s ear, sending tiny electric tingles through her.

Being tended to so meticulously gave Hill a strange illusion…

As though she were not a person, but a doll being carefully polished by its owner.

But this feeling…

Wasn’t bad at all.

In fact…

It was comfortable enough to make her want to doze off again.

“Done.”

At last Phyllis tied a pale blue ribbon at the ends—matching the color of her own dress.

“Perfect. Now Hill is the cutest swordswoman in the entire guild.”

“I’m going to fight monsters, not enter a beauty contest.”

Hill muttered awkwardly at her transformed reflection in the mirror, but she still didn’t untie the ribbon.

Phyllis stood behind her, gazing at their overlapping figures in the glass. The corner of her mouth curved in deep satisfaction.

First step: I’ve marked her.

9 a.m., deep in the Silent Forest.

“Over there!”

Hill kept her voice low, pressing her body against the tree trunk.

Her gaze locked onto a patch of bushes thirty meters ahead.

A plump gray rabbit with a sharp single horn sprouting from its head was gnawing at tree roots.

Furious Horned Rabbit.

Don’t let the name fool you—this magical beast had explosive speed, and that horn could easily pierce leather armor.

For the current Hill, it was the perfect practice target—and an extremely dangerous opponent.

“Three… two… one…”

Hill counted silently in her mind, then kicked off the ground and charged.

Her mind was crystal clear. She had already simulated the rabbit’s escape path and her own slashing trajectory in her head.

Step right, it startles and leaps—abdomen exposed—upward slash…

But reality struck her hard.

The instant she burst forward, a fatal delay appeared between her brain’s command and her limbs’ response.

This body’s explosive power was far too weak!

The rabbit did startle and leap, but Hill’s step lagged half a beat.

The sword that should have sliced into its belly could only awkwardly graze its hind leg.

The rabbit let out a piercing shriek, twisted mid-air, and drove its sharp horn downward with the momentum of its fall—straight toward Hill’s completely unguarded shoulder!

No way to dodge!

Hill’s pupils contracted sharply.

Her eyes saw every detail clearly, but her body felt frozen like wood.

At that life-or-death moment…

“…Wind’s Blessing.”

“…Strength Amplification.”

Two spells rang out almost simultaneously right beside her ear.

Not magic cast from afar—but power erupting directly inside her body.

A cyan airflow instantly wrapped around her entire form. Her body became light as a feather.

Immediately after, a rush of red heat surged into her arms. The once-heavy iron sword now felt light as a twig.

Time seemed to slow.

What had been a certain-death situation suddenly appeared full of openings in Hill’s eyes.

Incredibly, she twisted her waist.

A movement that should have torn her muscles—but under the wind’s lift, it flowed smoothly, impossibly.

Dodge the horn. Wrist turn.

“Slash!”

The iron sword traced a silver full moon.

No resistance.

The rabbit’s head flew off. The cut was mirror-smooth.

“…”

Hill landed, staring blankly at her own hands.

That instant just now…

That sense of power, that speed—even faintly approaching the level she had known in her previous life.

This was… magical support?

“Hill! Are you okay?”

Phyllis ran out from behind the tree, panting, face somewhat pale.

“It was too dangerous just now… I got so panicked I poured all my mana into you at once…”

Hill turned. Looking at Phyllis’s worried face, her heart pounded fiercely.

She felt a sudden emptiness—and then a surging hunger immediately after.

If this frail body was a cage…

Then Phyllis’s magic was the key that unlocked it.

“No… don’t apologize.”

Hill took a deep breath, gripped the sword hilt tighter. A new light flashed in her eyes.

“Phyllis, your support… it’s incredible.”

“Really?”

Phyllis asked timidly.

“I was worried I might disrupt your rhythm.”

“Not at all.”

Hill stepped forward and—for the first time—took the initiative to grasp Phyllis’s hand, eyes burning with intensity.

“That feeling… it was like I became the wind itself. With that state, forget horned rabbits—even higher-level magic wolves, I could cut them down!”

Phyllis felt the warmth of Hill’s palm. She looked into those eyes filled with dependence and felt uncontrollable joy bloom inside her.

Yes. Just like this.

I want you to remember this pleasure.

I want every single one of your cells to remember…

Only beside Phyllis are you whole.

“That’s wonderful…”

Phyllis gave a weak but relieved smile and gently clasped Hill’s fingers in return, stroking softly.

“As long as Hill needs it, no matter how many times, I will give you all of my power.”

“All of it… just for you.”

The next two hours became a one-sided massacre.

With Phyllis’s almost-cheating,全方位 buffs—

Acceleration, strength enhancement, dynamic vision boost, even faint pain suppression…

Hill transformed into a silver reaper in the forest.

Battles that should have been grueling turned into elegant dances.

Every sword stroke was precise, lethal.

Every dodge was graceful, composed.

Hill sank completely into this long-lost sense of control, never noticing how silently the thread of dependence had begun to weave itself inside her.

“Fifteenth one.”

Hill sheathed her sword. Fine sweat beaded on her forehead, but her mind was in an unusually exalted state.

“Amazing! Hill is practically a sword dancer!”

Phyllis clapped in timely admiration from the side, already holding out a waterskin and towel.

Hill took the waterskin and drank deeply. The cold water slid down her throat, cooling her overheated brain just a little.

She looked at the pile of trophies on the ground, then at Phyllis, who had been smiling gently the entire time.

An inexplicable thought took root in her mind…

As long as I’m with Phyllis, I can return to my peak.

No—even stronger than before.

She is… indispensable.

“Let’s head back, Phyllis.”

Hill’s voice was noticeably softer than usual.

“What do you want to eat tonight? Since we earned so much, we can buy something nice.”

“Hmm…”

Phyllis tilted her head in thought. A glint of mischief flashed in her eyes.

“Then… I want to eat meat roasted by Hill herself. Even though it’s the only thing Hill can cook, I just want to taste that flavor.”

“Alright.”

Hill agreed without the slightest hesitation.

Under the setting sun,

Their shadows stretched long—and intertwined tightly together.