The Elf's Mind Has Malfunctioned
Sion Testarosa had finally regained her freedom as of today—an unalloyed blessing.
But for Rohan and his group, plenty of hurdles remained.
Was the personal information on file for Sion Testarosa in Tigrova still active? What if they ran into a security officer on the street who recognized her face and build?
They hadn't committed any crimes, so there was no real need to bow their heads or act suspiciously, but the worries lingered anyway.
Anyway, that's one thing, and this is another.
In truth, those upfront issues were vague and nebulous.
The guilt Sion felt after hearing Noah's story wasn't an immediate problem either.
Right now, something else burned crystal-clear in Rohan's mind.
First: martial prowess.
Sion and Clara's talents were guarantees of steep growth curves—and they'd push each other even harder.
Rohan had to keep pace.
Not just match them, but surpass them entirely.
And second: clothes and lodging for Sion.
Rohan's reward payout was right around the corner. With that, he could solve it somehow.
But Clara had stepped up, volunteering to live with Sion once a place was secured, making it all fall into place quickly.
Sion's belongings from the ruins were even sparser than Clara's, and her wearable clothes were little more than rags—she'd already disposed of them.
So until they went shopping today, Sion would have to borrow Rohan's outfits.
"I'll text at lunchtime, so until then, treat this like your home and rest up."
"Yeah...!"
"Understood."
Brimming with concerns, Rohan returned to the dormitory right at dawn, just as the sun peeked over the horizon—as expected.
He shot a glance at the haggard Sion, who'd only had water and skipped proper meals.
"You've been starving a while, so how about some rice porridge first to settle your stomach?"
"Porridge?"
Sion blinked, and Rohan pulled instant rice from the shelf.
A procedure too simple to even call cooking.
White rice in a pot with water. Light the stove and stir constantly to keep it from scorching.
"Gotta soothe your belly if we want something tasty for dinner."
Even if their mana-hardened bodies let them ignore basics, a little care never hurt.
Sion fiddled with her hair strands and nodded at Rohan's explanation.
"...Sorry for the hassle."
"Hassle? This barely takes any effort."
Wasn't this employee welfare? Gotta keep top talent from slipping away.
As he stirred the porridge, Rohan asked Clara, who stood watching nearby.
"Anything you wanna eat, Clara?"
"I-I'm not hungry, so I'll wait till lunch..."
"Text me if you change your mind. I'll order delivery."
"Got it...!"
The porridge finished cooking, luxuriously attended by two spectators.
Rohan ladled it into bowls and reminded Sion.
"Force it down even if it tastes bad. Got it?"
Only after she averted her eyes and nodded did he grab his uniform and head for the door.
Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he waved once more.
"I'm off. Shower and crash. Call if anything comes up."
An inexplicable fulfillment washed over Sion and Clara as they saw Rohan off at the entrance.
How long had they stood there dazed?
Clara snapped out of it first, flashing an awkward smile.
"Sion sis, mind if I shower while you eat?"
"Of course."
Sion watched Clara head to the bathroom and sat at the table.
She scooped a careful spoonful of plain rice porridge.
A smile bloomed on her face, marveling at Rohan's handiwork.
'Force it down,' he said.
He'd said that, but Sion wasn't cramming it in against her will.
It drew her hand naturally. Was this the warmth of food made by someone else?
She scraped the bowl clean.
"Haa..."
Just the right fullness and a gentle body heat brought serenity to her heart.
After washing the spotless bowl and lingering at the table,
Clara hurried past, towel-wrapped to hide her bare skin.
Then the girl peeked out from behind the wall like a shield.
Damp purple locks caught Sion's eye.
"...Sis, you gonna wash those clothes you're wearing?"
"Mm, probably should."
"Then when you shower, just toss them in the hamper. I'll run the load."
"No. I'll do it."
Sion rose and headed to the washing machine in the corner.
Clara grabbed the hairdryer, saying to call if needed.
──Whiiirrr!!! Midway through drying, she heard her name.
"Clara. Busy?"
"One sec...!"
Maybe she forgot how to use the washer?
Clara, dryer in hand, headed over—and froze.
There was Sion, in her underwear, sniffing Rohan's clothes from the hamper.
One second to process.
Two.
Three.
"S-Sis!?"
The sight alone was shocking enough.
Even alone, Clara could never bring herself to do it.
And this brazen display, calling her over to witness it?
Sion's near-nakedness made it look even more suggestive.
"What..."
Clara trailed off, rigid as ice.
Sion tilted her head quizzically.
"Does Rohan wear cologne? It's surprisingly... potent for someone so meticulous."
"O-Oppa wears cologne...?"
Clara gulped as Sion offered the clothes.
She'd hesitated endlessly doing this solo—now in front of Sion?
Weird vibe.
But with Sion egging her on, it felt like permission.
"..."
Clara leaned in at Sion's urging.
No cologne—just faint lingering body scent and sweat.
But that drove her mad. Heat bloomed in her head and lower belly.
She buried her nose deep, lost for ages.
"Unique cologne. Thick... addictive."
Clara jolted up at Sion's words, grinning awkwardly.
Sis...
Was love like this for elves?
Her oblivious affection had fried her brain.
What would happen once she realized?
Thoughts raced through Clara in a flash.
But one certainty: the instant she let go of her tenuous sanity,
Sion's unwitting acts would pale compared to her own.
..
..
Sion and Clara crashed hard in Rohan's bed.
Curled skin-to-skin under warm covers, the girls passed out cold.
Rohan's lunchtime call jolted them awake, and they rushed to get ready.
"Sis, you okay? Not uncomfortable?"
"Fine. Oversized, but comfortable."
Sion, in Rohan's hoodie and sweats, felt her mood soar endlessly.
Especially his lingering scent on the fabric.
Inhales brought bliss. Exhales primed the next.
No goggles, no ponytail today.
Minimal gear packed, she and Clara slipped silently out the window and down from the dorm.
They hit the central district, pausing at a fast-food franchise.
Rohan waited ahead. Their steps quickened.
"Sleep well?"
"Yeah! Just woke up with sis!"
Rohan tidied Clara's bedhead and eyed Sion.
"Eat alright?"
"...It was delicious."
Rohan smiled and nodded. Sion wondered: did he take it as flattery, or sense the sincerity?
Normally irrelevant, now it filled her mind.
"Gotta get you a phone first so I can reach you. Smartphone after lunch?"
"!"
Sion's eyes widened in flustered surprise.
Clara clapped softly, thrilled like it was her own win.
Sion's body language screamed reluctance—too burdensome—so Rohan explained the necessity.
After a brief tussle, she relented.
And curiosity bubbled from primal desire.
"W-With a smartphone... I could call anytime, hear your voice, chat... right?"
"Obviously. No clue on your Tigrova records, so I'll get one under my name for now."
Easy name swap later. Rohan started walking.
He chatted idly, pondering lunch options.
"Clothes later? You two go without me?"
He'd hand over his card despite the sum, but
Clara latched onto something else.
"You're not coming, oppa?"
"Feels weird tagging along."
Of course, sending them alone worried him.
But eyeing Sion's luggage, they'd need stuff too embarrassing for a guy—better without him.
As Rohan firmed his stance,
Sion and Clara tugged his sleeves in unison.
Synced to perfection.
"Oppa... come with. Please?"
"...Come with us."
Like round-eyed kittens gazing up.
"..."
Rohan caved, on the verge of nodding—
"Ah! It's Clara!"
A familiar voice rang out for Rohan and Clara.
Turning revealed two girls cutting through the crowd with standout presence.
Ichinose Yui, eyes shut as always, sword in hand.
And Noah Frozenheart, white tail swishing, eyeing them with keen interest.