CHAPTER 45: MASTER

"My, my. Now that I look at you... you’ve grown into quite the handsome prince," Mavis said with a teasing smile.

Fenric didn’t reply. Instead, he instinctively clasped his legs together.

Mavis tilted her head, clearly amused by his discomfort. "Oh? No witty comeback? That’s not like you, Fenric."

She let the silence stretch, crossing her legs elegantly as she leaned back on her hands atop the desk. Her gaze swept over him—not just his face, but his posture, the tension in his shoulders, and the quiet intensity he now carried. He felt heavier somehow. Sharper. Dangerous.

"You’ve changed," she murmured, mostly to herself. "You were always clever... but now there’s something else. Less bark, more bite. I wonder..." Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of monster are you becoming, little prince?"

Fenric’s expression stayed cold, but the air around him seemed to shift—like the calm just before a lightning strike.

"I’m not interested in proving anything to you," he said flatly. "If you’re here to test me, don’t bother. I won’t entertain you."

Mavis laughed. A light, melodic sound—yet there was something unsettling beneath it.

"Oh, I don’t doubt that," she said, brushing invisible dust from her lap. "But I’m not here to test you. I’m just... curious."

She hopped down from the desk, landing silently like a stalking cat.

"I’ve only been locked away for a few months, Fenric," she continued casually. "And yet when I returned, I found a prince who was supposed to be dead... walking around like nothing happened."

Fenric narrowed his eyes. "Do you really think killing a prince is that easy?"

She smirked. "Oh, I wasn’t talking about assassins or blades. I meant the slow poison... the one that was eating you from the inside."

At her words, Fenric felt a strange twinge on his temple. It was faint—like a phantom touch—but gone in an instant.

It was her. She had checked his body in less than a second.

"There’s no trace of it now," Mavis said, her eyes gleaming. "Not a single thread left in your body."

She stepped in close, eyes locking with his. "That’s completely unexpected. Even I couldn’t purge that poison... and yet you, a Soldier-level brat, managed what a Sun-ranked powerhouse like me could not."

Her hand rose to his cheek, fingers warm and firm. She turned his face toward her with a soft but commanding grip.

"That kind of anomaly makes me... very curious."

Then—without hesitation—she leaned forward and slowly licked his lips.

Fenric flinched, instinctively trying to pull away, but her grip didn’t budge. She smirked again, licking her own lips afterward like she was savoring a rare wine.

"How about this," she purred. "Let’s balance the scales. Take me as your master. Think of it as me repaying a debt."

She didn’t let go of his face. Her eyes never left his.

Fenric’s fists clenched at his sides. His heart thundered like a war drum, and his abnormal-resistance skill was working overtime to keep his emotions buried. But even that wasn’t enough.

Still, his voice came out calm. Cold. Emotionless.

"Fine. I’ll be your disciple."

"Oh?" she said, her grin widening.

He added firmly, "Only for the sake of training. Nothing else."

Inside, he was screaming. She was a Sun-ranked monster. A sadist. A schemer. And now... she was going to be his teacher?

Mavis chuckled, sensing the fear beneath his words.

She leaned close again, her breath warm on his ear as she whispered, "This is going to be fun."

Then, without asking, she sat down on his lap, her slender frame settling atop him with ease. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she stared directly into his eyes.

"You know," she said softly, "I’ve never taken in a disciple. Never touched a man either."

Her fingers slid slowly down his chest. "And yet, you... of all people... you interest me, Fenric. It feels like something’s pulling me toward you. Like something greater is moving the strings."

Her voice lowered even more. "Tell me, what exactly happened while I was gone?"

Fenric paused. He knew better than to lie to someone of her level.

"...I made a contract with a spirit. A rare one. King-grade. She left behind her Moon-Cleansing Flames... and those flames helped purge the poison from my body."

Mavis raised an eyebrow, then slowly nodded.

"Oh? So that’s it."

She leaned back just a bit to study him again. "You carry the aura of a spirit now. No wonder I noticed something off."

Her smirk returned—slow and predatory.

"Well then... my dear prince, this might just be more fun than I thought."

She gave a satisfied sigh. "Now, let’s see in which area you need improvement."

Mavis shifted slightly on his lap. Her fingers moved slowly down his arms as her expression changed again—no longer playful, but thoughtful and sharp.

"Sit still," she said, her tone slipping into something more professional. Like an alchemist inspecting a rare material—or a predator about to dissect something valuable.

She placed her palm gently on his chest, and a pulse of golden spirit energy passed into him. Fenric felt it enter his body like warm liquid—comforting, but clearly meant to probe deeper. He tensed but didn’t stop her.

"Hmm..." she murmured, eyes narrowing. "Your body is weak. Not naturally... but because of what the poison did. Its effects lingered. It made your foundation brittle."

She traced the meridian lines across his chest, her fingers icy-cold and precise.

"But now that the poison is gone... we can start fixing it."

She gave him a small smile.

"Body-forging elixirs. Spirit-infused herbs. Even some alchemical tonics that would make Grandmasters lose sleep. We’ll rebuild what you lost. And maybe... even make it better."

Fenric tensed again. But she wasn’t finished.

Her hand slid slightly lower, and her eyes suddenly widened. Her breath caught.

Then, without a word, she sat up straight and looked into his eyes. Her pupils glowed with a golden sheen, lips parting slightly in disbelief.

"...Your mana sea."

She blinked once. Then again. And then she let out a low whistle.

"You little monster..." she whispered. "How in the hell is your mana sea this vast?"