Free Web NovelThe battle was over.
At least, most of it was.
Eleanor stood at the end of the corridor in Sector C, listening to her adjutant's report.
Her expression was calm and her gaze cold. Her military boots were stained with a bit of dust, but her entire demeanor remained perfectly poised.
"...Our casualties: three lightly wounded, all grazed by stray bullets during the ambush, nothing serious. Zero heavily wounded, zero killed in action."
The adjutant's voice was steady.
Professionalism.
"Enemy casualties: forty-seven knocked unconscious, currently being collected and detained by sector. Another eleven..."
The adjutant paused for a moment.
"Dead."
Eleanor's eyebrows twitched.
"Cause of death?"
"Daggers to the throat. Instant kills. The technique was clean and efficient."
"Did Little Pa kill them?"
"No."
The adjutant's tone was somewhat subtle.
"Our people have confirmed that Miss Pavela used only her fists and feet throughout the entire engagement, without using any sharp weapons. Moreover, everyone she knocked out is still alive, and their injuries were handled very... precisely."
"Then who was it?"
"Unclear."
The adjutant flipped through the report in his hand.
"But there is one commonality: all the deceased were of Usar descent."
Eleanor fell silent.
Usar descent.
People from the Fire of Freedom.
Someone had killed them.
But it wasn't Pavela, nor was it her own people.
Who could it be, and why kill the people from the Fire of Freedom?
To silence them?
To frame someone?
Or simply... revenge?
Too many doubts.
Too few clues.
"Preserve the bodies well."
Eleanor said.
"Contact the Military Police to identify every single person. Interrogate the living and perform autopsies on the dead."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Furthermore, do not leak word of tonight's events for the time being."
"Understood."
The adjutant saluted and turned to leave.
His footsteps gradually faded, disappearing at the end of the corridor.
Eleanor let out a soft breath.
The surroundings fell quiet.
Only the hissing of some steam pipes damaged by the battle remained in the distance.
This was a massive invasion.
Over fifty enemies.
Twelve Ferrymen.
Meticulously planned.
Carefully deployed.
And it happened to strike at the weakest moment.
And the result?
In less than an hour, they were completely wiped out.
All thanks to a fifteen or sixteen-year-old Silver-haired Maiden.
She had long known that three groups were eyeing the sleeper.
The Children of Dawn.
The force from the direction of Usar, the Fire of Freedom.
And a third party with unknown goals.
Those who came tonight were clearly the first two groups joined together.
The Usar people were responsible for tactical coordination.
The Wayfarer mercenaries were responsible for providing firepower.
If she had to deal with this configuration herself—
While she might not necessarily lose.
The cost would have been great.
She would have had to take the field personally.
But in doing so, her attention would be diverted.
The protection of the sleeper would have developed flaws.
If someone took the opportunity to break the seal.
Everyone would be beyond redemption.
So, regarding this little one, Eleanor didn't even know what to say.
Pride?
Gratification?
Or...
Lingering fear?
"Sis—ter—"
A voice suddenly came from behind her.
Sweet.
Soft.
Trailing with a long final note.
Carrying a sort of... coquettish ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) tone?
Eleanor was stunned.
Her brain took a full two seconds to process this sound.
This was Pavela's voice.
The timbre was correct.
But the tone...
Since when did Pavela speak with such a tone?
Her little one with the sharp tongue and soft heart?
Her little one who would rather be hurt than show weakness?
Her little one who would blush to the tips of her ears if picked up?
She would use this... this tone like a large coquettish Cat to call out "Sister"?
Eleanor turned around hesitantly.
And then.
A head of short silver hair crashed into her embrace.
"Sister, sister, sister—"
Pavela buried her face in Eleanor's chest and rubbed against it.
"I beat up all the bad guys and chased them away—"
Another rub.
"Am I not amazing—"
One more rub.
Eleanor's brain short-circuited.
Her hands froze in mid-air.
She didn't know whether to put them down or push her away.
Pavela looked up, watching her with those eyes.
The corners of her eyes tilted up slightly.
Her eyelashes trembled gently. freewēbnoveℓ.com
Her lips were slightly pouted.
She had an expression that said "praise me, praise me, praise me."
Eleanor felt her heart skip a beat.
Then two beats.
Three beats.
Blood began to rush to her face.
Wait, no.
No, no, no.
Is this Pavela?
Is this really Pavela?
She hasn't been swapped, has she?
She hasn't been possessed by something strange, has she?
When did she become so... so...
"Little Pa, you—"
"Sister still hasn't praised me."
Pavela interrupted her.
Her voice carried a hint of grievance.
"I worked so hard, and sister doesn't even praise me."
"No... I..."
"Does sister not like me anymore?"
"Of course not—"
"Then why doesn't sister praise me?"
Eleanor's mouth opened.
She was speechless.
She, the great 'Blood Rose', an Imperial Army Lieutenant Colonel.
Now being made incoherent by a coquettish young girl.
Is this appropriate?
"Alright, alright, alright."
Eleanor finally surrendered.
"You are very amazing."
"Extremely amazing."
"It was all thanks to you tonight."
Pavela's eyes grew even brighter.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Then sister must reward me."
"Okay, I'll reward you."
"I want it now."
"Fine, what do you want?"
The moment the words left her mouth, Eleanor felt something was wrong.
The corners of Pavela's mouth curled into a dangerous arc.
"I want—"
She stood on her tiptoes.
Approaching Eleanor's ear.
Her breath was warm.
Faint and lingering.
"A kiss."
Eleanor's breath hitched.
"Wh... what?"
"A kiss."
Pavela repeated, sounding perfectly justified. "Sister, give me a kiss."
"This..." frёeωebɳovel.com
"Sister promised just now."
"I didn't—"
"Sister said 'what do you want'."
Pavela blinked.
An innocent expression.
"This is what I want."
"Sister wouldn't go back on her word, right?"
Eleanor's mind went blank.
She wanted to say "no".
But looking at those bright eyes, she couldn't say it.
She wanted to say "let's talk about it later".
But Pavela had already brought her face close.
Right in front of her.
"Sister—"
Pavela's voice was as soft as melted sugar.
"Just one—"
"Fine—"
Eleanor's mouth was faster than her brain.
By the time she reacted, it was too late.
Pavela's expression looked as if she had won the lottery.
"Sister promised!"
"..."
"Sister said 'fine'!"
"I meant—"
"Sister can't go back on it!"
Pavela hugged her waist and rubbed against her.
"Although I'm a bit dirty now, I'll come to collect my reward after I wash up."
"Sister must remember."
"No backing out."
Eleanor stood there, completely dazed.
Did she just...
Somehow, in her confusion...
Agree to something incredible?
And how could Pavela...
The little one who usually blushed to the tips of her ears whenever she was teased, why was it the other way around today?
This wasn't right.
It was very wrong.
And then.
And then she finally saw clearly.
Pavela's pupils.
Those eyes.
They weren't the usual light grey-blue.
Nor were they the crimson of when she lost control.
They were pink.
A faint pink.
In the center of the pupil, there was a small shape.
A heart shape.
A tiny, pink, beating heart.
Eleanor blinked.
Pink? Hearts?
Path of the Lover?
So Little Pa has stepped onto the Path of the Lover for some reason now?
Eleanor looked at the silver-haired head rubbing against her.
Suddenly, she understood.
This little one was reading her emotions and then playing her?
No, it was more than that.
There was also the influence of erosion.
The Path of the Lover makes one more dependent on their chosen partner and more desirous of exclusivity. As the sequence rises, the dependence and exclusivity become more severe, even to the point of not allowing the partner's gaze to leave them for a single moment.
The current Pavela might also be in this state of erosion.
Her sense of dependence was amplified.
Her sense of shame was suppressed.
Things she could never say and actions she could never do normally now became natural.
It was as if...
As if she were drunk.
Alcohol emboldens a coward.
the return emboldens Little Pa.
