Chapter 8: Why do the two old ladies act so hypocritically?

Yvette seemed to hear Eleanor calling her name, but she merely dismissed it as a hallucination before death.

After all, Teacher Eleanor had always called her “little thing” or “little one,” even though she herself was much shorter.

Eleanor shouted angrily, seeing Yvette continue forward as if she hadn’t heard, instantly losing her composure.

She only wanted to tease the girl a bit; acting too casually would make her seem cheap, so she thought to playfully tug at the girl,

have a little interaction to close the distance.

But she didn’t expect the girl to be unexpectedly “stubborn.”

This left Eleanor, who was waiting for the girl to ask for help, in a sudden panic.

A third-tier facing a saber-toothed tiger—what was that if not suicide?

“Hey! I told you to take the sword, not to go after that tiger!

“Are you rushing to reincarnate with that broken blade?!”

Eleanor hurriedly chased after her in a panic.

Yvette hadn’t fully reacted when Eleanor strode up close.

She grabbed Yvette’s arm, angrily turning her around, red eyes meeting indigo pupils.

Eleanor looked up at her, making an angry expression, unaware that from a downward angle, her anger carried no authority.

“Are you an idiot?!

“Do you not trust your teacher, or do you think I’d just watch you die?

“Do you think your teacher is some cold-blooded creature without emotions?!”

Eleanor lifted the girl’s tearful face, her slender hands pinching Yvette’s soft, fair cheeks,

applying just enough force to let her feel a slight sting.

As always, the girl didn’t take her own safety seriously, which made her very unhappy.

It wasn’t until a faint burning sensation reached her fingertips that Eleanor let go.

“Tch… Teacher, I…”

The girl’s eyes shimmered with tears, slightly wet from the sudden closeness.

Seeing the adorable girl on the verge of crying, Eleanor, who had been somewhat angry, suddenly didn’t know what to do.

She couldn’t stand seeing kids cry; it inexplicably tugged at her heart.

And she didn’t really know how to comfort her.

Neither in the past nor now did her memories hold any knowledge of comforting girls.

So now, she was somewhat at a loss.

Her clever little mind raced, only able to mimic the tone of a teacher from her memories,

left hand on her hip, body leaning forward, right hand gesturing a “1” in front of the girl.

“I’m saying~

“Yvette, can you use your brain a little? Don’t be so reckless like a brute.”

“You’re my swordmaster, someone I’ll be with for a long, long time. In a way, we’re like family!”

“Do you think I’d just stand by and watch you throw your life away?”

“Family?”

Yvette’s voice trembled with a sob.

“Yup, family! Little Ai, the sword spirit’s one and only family! So, dear Yvette, are you willing to be my family?”

Eleanor shamelessly sweetened her voice, trying to soothe the sobbing girl, though the sugary tone nearly made her gag.

Why would a two-lifetime old hag act so coy?

If Eleanor were Yvette, she’d probably sneer and say to the voice-tweaking weirdo, “Old hag, pretending to be a cute girl? Shameless.”

But the girl clearly didn’t have such mischievous thoughts; she was still caught in her sadness.

“Teacher Eleanor, you’re not abandoning me?”

“Abandon? When did I ever abandon you? For heaven’s sake, how could a dutiful sword spirit like me abandon her swordmaster?”

Eleanor sighed helplessly, wrapping her fair arms around the girl, gently patting her slightly frail back.

“There, there, don’t cry, good girl~ Don’t cry. This time, it was my fault for not being clear. I apologize.

“I’m not great at comforting people, so if you stop crying, I’ll grant you one small wish within my power.

“No time limit, dear Yvette, you can take your time thinking about it~”

[Ugh~] Why do I feel so gross?

Eleanor comforted the girl gently.

The loss of her parents had always been a scar etched in the girl’s heart, and her slave identity made Yvette even more insecure.

The clever sword spirit had keenly noticed this long ago.

Her inferiority complex was excessive—she didn’t value herself at all.

Wiping a sword with her face?

No normal girl would do that.

But Yvette did, even wondering if she’d dirty the other while accepting a hug.

That kind of inferiority was carved into her heart.

FALL…

If there was a chance, she wanted to do something within her power, though she wasn’t sure if Yvette liked the term “family.”

Yvette, embraced by the sword spirit, was momentarily lost, as if seeing a familiar figure in Eleanor—someone who once patiently cheered her up,

“—Family.”

Murmuring softly, Yvette hugged the petite sword spirit tightly, her wet eyes ceasing to shed tears.

The girl held on tightly, as if afraid of losing something, completely forgetting her original intent to wield the sword.

(The four-person team: ?)

Eleanor stood still, watching the silly, tearfully smiling girl with a doting smile.

“Fine—”

The four-person team seemed to be holding up for now, so she’d let Yvette hug a little longer.

Yvette wasn’t foolish; children who grew up without love matured early, but in front of the overly excellent and confident Miss Eleanor, she felt inferior.

Because of her inferiority, she feared rejection; because she feared rejection, she became hesitant and unsure.

Fortunately, Eleanor noticed this and took the initiative to close the distance, slightly easing the girl’s insecurity.

After the hug, Yvette’s mood improved, and as she wanted to thank her, Eleanor had already turned into a white light and vanished.

Then, a cold mechanical female voice sounded in her ears.

“You are now wielding the magic sword Eleanor Lillian. Skill sharing activated.”

“Sharing in progress, please wait.”

“Sword Mastery Lv8, Magic Mastery Lv8, Cleric Mastery Lv8, Shield Mastery Lv8… All skills shared successfully.”

Yvette looked down; a refined silver sword had appeared in her hand.

“Stay safe, don’t let the tiger bite you, and—remember to wipe the sword. After wiping, hang me at your waist to keep the abilities shared.”

“If you save a few backstabbing thieves, Little Ai will have the strength to fight back, got it?”

“If they dare bite the hand that feeds them, drain their wallets dry.”

“Mm.”

Ha…

The soft, nagging voice sounded like a worried mother fretting over her young daughter going out.

But~~~

Yvette loved hearing it.