Facing Regulus, who casually sauntered out of the cabin as if nothing had happened, Laila was so consumed by rage that she wished she could tear the man into a thousand pieces.
But anger was merely anger; she lacked the physical power to actually do anything, and she certainly couldn't bring herself to throw her life away on a suicide attack.
She forcefully suppressed the suffocating shame and indignation burning in her chest. Forgetting about revenge for a moment, her single overwhelming desire right now was to leave this diplomatic convoy immediately and never have any further interaction with this shameless human.
However, as strong as her urge to flee was, she knew she couldn't actually walk away. Nor would she be foolish enough to try persuading Shion to abandon the caravan with her.
Shion had already officially agreed to serve as the chief logistics manager for the Kingdom and the Demi-Human alliance, taking on the monumental responsibility of coordinating trade between the factions. Even if Shion harbored zero romantic feelings for Regulus, her altruistic nature meant she would never abandon a position that directly guaranteed the survival and prosperity of the entire demi-human race.
"Laila... are you really okay?" Shion asked softly from her bed, looking at her friend with deep concern.
"I'm fine," Laila muttered, taking a deep breath. "Shion, it's getting very late. We still have to wake up early tomorrow to travel. It won't do if we don't get a good night's rest."
"You're right. Let's sleep together in my berth then. We can talk about everything else tomorrow morning," Shion said, proactively reaching out to take Laila's hand.
Shion could clearly sense the extremely volatile, chaotic emotions suppressed deep within her friend's heart. To prevent Laila from foolishly sneaking out to confront Regulus after falling asleep, taking some preventative measures was absolute necessity.
After all, although Shion hadn't known Regulus for very long, based on her personal experience with his boundless audacity... if Laila went to confront him alone in the dark, she—as a girl—would undoubtedly suffer an even worse disadvantage.
That kind of disastrous scenario had to be prevented at all costs. If her already furious friend suffered another intimate boundary violation and completely lost her mind, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Naturally, Shion wasn't worried about Regulus's safety. Having witnessed his casual erasure of an entire village, she understood that while she couldn't comprehend the full extent of his authority, he was nearly god-like—an untouchable entity. Even though Laila was a skilled elven warrior, the gap between them was like an insurmountable chasm; they simply did not exist on the same physical plane.
As the two lay side by side in the narrow berth, Laila looked down at her friend, who was still tightly holding her hand with zero intention of letting go.
Understanding perfectly what Shion was assuming, Laila felt an overwhelming wave of depression. Did Shion really think she was such an reckless, impulsive fool?
Besides, at this delicate political juncture—with the war between demi-humans and humanity having settled down just a few days ago—even an absolute idiot would know not to incite a diplomatic crisis, right?
Even so, letting his disrespect slide was completely impossible.
'Regulus... I, Laila, will remember this grudge!' she swore silently to herself. She closed her eyes and forced her mind to go blank. If she didn't forcibly numb her thoughts, she wouldn't be able to sleep a single wink tonight.
The next morning.
As the first rays of morning sunlight illuminated the forest canopy, the accompanying royal maid began preparing a lavish breakfast. Once the food was nearly ready, the maid respectfully knocked on the cabin doors to wake the party.
As the old saying goes: a day's plan begins in the morning, and a year's plan begins in spring. The morning after waking up is when a person's physical energy is naturally at its peak.
So, after engaging in some energetic "morning exercises" behind closed doors to expend some of his excess vitality, Regulus carried a thoroughly flushed, groggy Sphinx out of the royal carriage to eat.
Breakfast was something Regulus valued above almost everything else. How could a man maintain his peak vitality without proper nourishment? And if he lacked energy, Sphinx would feel lonely and grow gloomy.
Therefore: Food = Energy = Happiness.
This formula was absolute, at least in Regulus's personal worldview.
However, before Regulus could replenish his energy at the table, he stepped out of the carriage and immediately spotted an Elf Maiden whose expression was extraordinarily gloomy—practically radiating dark clouds of depression.
"Are you... feeling alright?" Regulus asked, slightly startled by Laila's terrible, exhausted complexion.
Laila's eyebrow twitched violently as her purple eyes snapped up to glare fiercely at him.
"Hmph! You don't need to feign concern about whether I am okay or not!" she spat out, turning on her heel to walk away directly.
Watching the sharp departure of the purple-haired Elf Maiden, Sphinx nestled her head against Regulus's neck, her dark eyes blinking sleepily.
"Dear... is this what you described to me before?" Sphinx asked in her usual deadpan tone. "The psychological state of being 'outwardly fierce, but inwardly timid'?"
Stomp.
In an instant, Laila—who had only taken two steps away—completely froze in her tracks.
"You and your husband are truly a match made in hell," Laila hissed without looking back, her voice trembling with embarrassment and anger. "Both equally insufferable!"
Refusing to give them another second of her attention, she marched toward the far edge of the clearing.
She knew her own state better than anyone. Her current behavior—calling it tsundere or "outwardly fierce but inwardly timid"—wasn't too far off the mark. What had happened yesterday afternoon was bad enough, but then she had suffered strange, indecent dreams all night, and in the morning, her friend had caught her looking utterly disheveled.
She had been too ashamed to face Shion, so she had intended to march over and demand a formal apology from Regulus for forcefully feeding her that potion. Yet, before she could even open her mouth, the couple was already teasing her at dawn.
As Laila's figure vanished behind the treeline, Sphinx tilted her head in genuine confusion.
"Dear... did I say something wrong?"
"You don't need to worry about that," Regulus chuckled softly, patting her head.
"Mm." Sphinx nodded, placidly dropping the subject.
Regulus leaned against the carriage wheel, his eyes tracking Laila, who was now sitting alone beneath a distant ancient tree.
Her volatile behavior confirmed it: the subtle, subliminal effect of the submission crest was indeed beginning to manifest.
However, the speed of its absorption seemed to vary significantly from person to person.
When he had inscribed the mark on Shion, her physical and emotional reactions had been swift and pronounced. But on Laila, while the subtle shift was definitely present, the progression at this stage was far slower and more guarded.
'Could it be that a target's baseline goodwill and initial impression directly alter the assimilation speed of the crest?' Regulus pondered, analyzing the mechanics.
After all, the core difference between the two elves was obvious. While Shion certainly hadn't been head-over-heels in love with him initially, her baseline impression of him was overwhelmingly positive due to gratitude for retrieving her life's savings. Laila, on the other hand, had harbored a completely negative, hostile impression of him from the very first second they met.
'If baseline impression dictates the speed,' Regulus noted with a smirk, 'then completely conquering every girl I take an interest in solely through passive marks won't be quite that mindless...'
During the remaining days of the journey back to the Royal Capital, Regulus carefully observed Laila's subtle behavioral details and daily interactions.
Undoubtedly, her overt hostility toward him was slowly decaying.
While the change wasn't instant, the mark's passive influence was undeniably working. From initially refusing to even acknowledge his existence or sit in the same cabin, she gradually reached a point where she no longer deliberately rejected normal, casual conversations with him.
'At this rate,' Regulus estimated smoothly, 'even if I don't actively pursue her, it will probably only take a couple of months for her to reach Shion's baseline level of affection.'
This speed was neither too fast nor too slow. But even with the baseline resistance factored in, the absolute authority of the mark was, without a doubt, a god-tier cheat skill.
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Give me powerstones.
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