Peaceful Ragunna, another harmonious night.
Two days had passed since Aeron first t with Ciaccona and the others. Thanks to the ballad singers, rumors about "Father Aeron's vengeful spirit returning to seek revenge by commanding evil ghosts" had already perated the entire Ragunna City in just two days.
However, rumors alone weren't enough. Aeron needed to add so genuine elents to make this "rumor" more impactful and wield greater power during Carnevale.
Thus, he began working overti at night, taking Arsène around Ragunna to frighten pedestrians—with seemingly decent results.
Having "Arsène" interfere with streetlights, then making a mysterious entrance, followed by lightly stabbing himself a couple of tis while letting out feigned laughter—this was enough to terrify most people.
To enhance the atmosphere, he even acquired a mask that only covered the upper half of his face.
Who would have thought, who would have thought—even in this field, Aeron could find his formulaic approach. He really was born to labor.
Sigh, when he should have been the mastermind behind the scenes, why did he have to do everything himself?
Admittedly, after working hard all day, having to pull this night shift made Aeron understand why Zani was so exhausted every day.
Though Aeron didn't quite understand why she kept visiting him daily even during her days off—shouldn't holidays be for lying around at ho?
Never mind, tonight's tasks were mostly done anyway. Ti to clock out—he still needed to wash his clothes for tomorrow night's continued efforts.
Just as Aeron called "Arsène" back and prepared to slip away, he suddenly felt sothing watching him.
This felt completely different from being watched by Cantarella and the others—this ti, it felt like being locked on by a mouse scroll wheel.
While scanning his surroundings, Aeron quickly ran through possible candidates in his mind.
He had specifically chosen this location—there shouldn't be any Order's public Echoes here, people connected to him wouldn't co at this hour, that certain Huanglong civil servant shouldn't have arrived yet, Fractsidus... they probably weren't this idle.
Frankly, what decent person would be awake at this hour to catch him?
Aeron instinctively wanted to flee, but that locked-on sensation clung to him like a shadow, making the hairs on his nape stand up slightly. He stopped walking, turned slightly sideways, and glanced toward the direction of the sensation from the corner of his eye.
There, silhouetted against the cold moonlight on the rooftop, stood a slender, agile figure. Short black hair fluttered slightly in the night breeze, while the deep blue blade gleaming faintly in the darkness was steadily pointed in his direction.
Rover.
So it was her. Seeing it was Rover, Aeron's suspended heart finally settled back down.
Right on schedule—this was about when Rover would return to Ragunna from Penitent's End.
Clearly, she had co specifically to investigate the "evil spirit" rumors after hearing about them. Judging by her appearance, she obviously hadn't recognized him. With just a brief explanation to Rover, at worst he'd get scolded a bit, or most severely, probably just be kept under surveillance for so ti.
...But Aeron had no intention of doing so for now.
As he spoke, Aeron drew a short sword from his chest and turned to face Rover.
In previous battles, he had either let "Arsène" take over or relied on his "Reality Marble" to buff the terrain. Just this once, he wanted to try fighting personally—partly to set the stage for future developnts in Aeron's script.
The rabbit-headed figure opened its mouth, testing what cup size I might be.
Well, he was wearing a mask anyway... Why not give it a try?
Thud!
With a soft sound, Rover descended from the rooftop, silently drawing the swift blade at her waist.
"Playing tricks. Are you the one behind the recent disturbances in Ragunna?"
Exactly.
Aeron, however, did not reply. He held the short sword horizontally in front of him while his other hand reached for the grappling hook behind him.
He knew how formidable Rover was—a direct confrontation would bring him no advantage. He had to rely on his tricks.
Seeing that Aeron remained silent, the Rover said no more. She imdiately stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a few strides, and swung her sheathed blade at Aeron's arm.
[Instant Mastery, activated.]
Aeron slid backward, raising his short sword to block the strike as blade t sheath.
Wait, why has my right hand gone numb? Sister, your stats are just too outrageous!
As expected, a head-on clash was futile. Aeron used the impact to retreat, his left hand swiftly drawing the grappling hook to latch onto a nearby lamppost, pulling himself away.
He shook his numb right hand and fired the grappling hook at the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust to obscure Rover's vision.
Unfazed, the Rover calmly channeled the Resonance Power within her.
"Feathers of Annihilation, vanquish all—"
Smack!
The next mont, Aeron darted from the side, grabbing the Rover's wrist with his left hand.
[Imagine Breaker, activated.]
"?!"
The disruption of her Resonance Power caused the Rover to hesitate for a split second. But before Aeron could act, her other hand raised the blade, aiming straight for his elbow.
Aeron hastily released her and retreated, swinging out with the grappling hook to create distance. Yet the Rover shadowed him relentlessly, her attacks—thrusts, jabs, and sweeps—leaving no opening.
[Instant Mastery] allowed Aeron to see and react to Rover's movents, but against her overwhelming physical prowess, he, a re mundane, stood no chance against this overpowered protagonist.
The short sword was useless, and the grappling hook only served for clumsy repositioning. Within a few exchanges, Aeron felt like a college student forced to run a 1,000-ter sprint.
Finally, exhaustion created a montary opening.
"Your technique is passable, but your foundation is lacking," the Rover comnted, spinning into a sharp side kick.
Aeron barely managed to block with both arms, but the trendous force sent him stumbling backward, his back slamming hard against a wall. Before he could catch his breath, a glint of cold steel was already at his face—the Rover had finally drawn her blade, aiming for his mask.
"Whoa, sister, you're really going for it—"
Aeron instinctively tilted his head, but the blade's tip precisely hooked the edge of his mask.
Click!
The mask slipped from Aeron's face, clattering crisply on the ground, revealing his features, flushed and panting from exertion and lack of oxygen.
"...Greetings, Your Grace?"
Rover looked at the familiar face before her, its expression largely unchanged—if anything, she felt a slight urge to laugh.
"Can't sleep at night, so you co out here to scare people..."
She glanced at Aeron's exaggerated outfit and his slightly trembling arm.
"And you want to fight ?"
"Uh... Would you believe if I said this was just a little creative idea?"
Aeron struggled to get up, realizing he had indeed underestimated the stats-heavy opponent.
He hadn't even gone all out. If he'd brought out the scythe and other tools, in the face of such overwhelming luck, Aeron wouldn't even qualify as a speed bump.
Rover didn't answer him, her gaze fixed on his trembling hand. "Died again? This ti it's the left hand?" Her tone was flat, indistinguishable between a question and a statent.
"Just a new little trick... As you can see, it didn't work very well."
"Not bad, I suppose."
Rover's voice remained calm as she sheathed her blade at her waist. She glanced toward the empty end of the street, where light was already approaching from not too far away.
"We've made quite a commotion... Can you still move?"
"Uh... It's a bit difficult. Let rest for a mont—"
Before Aeron could finish, Rover reached out, one arm slipping behind his knees and the other firmly supporting his back. With a slight exertion, she lifted him horizontally into her arms.
"...Couldn't we try a different position?"
"Or would you prefer to be carried over my shoulder?"
"No, thanks."
A hint of laughter tinged Rover's voice as she lightly leaped onto the rooftop. Aeron felt his perspective abruptly rise as the night wind whistled past.
"Oh, and rember to wash the clothes."
"Thanks a fucking lot."
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