CHAPTER 152: THE GIRL IN WAITING

~Let’s go back a few minutes earlier.

Khione left the special training ground with slow, measured steps, her breath still uneven. The duel against Elreth had ended in a draw—an unsatisfying conclusion for both sides. Her body was aching, her legs trembling slightly from exhaustion, and yet her mind refused to quiet down. Every clash, every exchange of blows replayed in her head like fire burning along her nerves.

By the time she reached her room, sweat clung stubbornly to her skin and her muscles felt like heavy chains weighing her down. Without hesitation, she headed straight for the bathroom.

The moment she turned the faucet, the sound of rushing water filled the space, echoing softly off the marble walls. Steam curled upward, fogging the mirror and carrying with it the promise of release. She slipped off her training clothes piece by piece, each article falling with a soft rustle to the floor, leaving behind pale skin faintly bruised in places where Elreth’s strikes had landed. They were marks of struggle—but also proof that she had stood toe to toe with someone formidable.

She stepped into the bath and lowered herself slowly.

The heat struck her first—sharp at the surface, then melting into comfort as it enveloped her body. A soft sigh escaped her lips, her shoulders sinking as if the bath itself drew the battle fatigue straight out of her. The soreness in her arms and legs dulled, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through her veins. She let her head fall back against the wall, silver-white strands of damp hair clinging to her neck.

Her thoughts, however, were anything but calm.

"Elreth..." Khione whispered under her breath, her voice half-buried beneath the sound of water.

Every motion of that fight had been sharp, precise—two wills colliding without room for weakness. Khione could still feel the echo of Elreth’s power, the sheer intensity of her strikes. And yet, she had not been overwhelmed. She had matched her, step for step, blade for blade. A stalemate, but a victory of its own in Khione’s heart.

She reached for the soap and worked it into her long white hair. Foam bubbled between her slender fingers as she carefully massaged her scalp, her eyes drifting shut as the faint fragrance of lavender rose with the steam. It was soothing, but also grounding—reminding her she was still here, still alive, still standing after crossing blades with a warrior who could easily crush most opponents.

Rinsing the foam away, she watched the water shimmer as it carried the suds down the drain, as if washing away not just the grime of training but the tension gripping her chest. Her arms trailed lazily along the surface of the water, creating ripples that danced across the bath like fleeting memories.

A faint blush colored her cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from the heat seeping deep into her bones. She slid lower, submerging until the water reached her chin, her reflection fractured on the rippling surface.

For a moment, silence.

Then the memories rushed back. Elreth’s eyes—burning, unyielding. The weight of her blade pressing against Khione’s. The certainty that if either of them had gone just a little further, one of them might not be standing now.

Khione clenched her fists beneath the water, sending faint ripples outward.

"That wasn’t enough," she thought, her gaze narrowing on her reflection. "If it had gone just a little longer... I might have lost."

But she also felt something else—a spark of excitement she couldn’t quite smother. Facing Elreth had forced her beyond her usual limits. It had awakened something dormant inside her. For the first time in a long while, Khione felt the rush of genuine battle spirit—of being challenged not just in strength, but in heart.

The water lapped softly at her collarbone as she leaned back again, exhaling slowly. The heat loosened the knot in her chest, even as determination flared stronger within her. Her white hair fanned out across the water’s surface, glowing faintly under the warm light above, strands glistening like moonlight caught in ripples.

Minutes passed like hours. Steam continued to curl around her, wrapping her in its quiet embrace.

Finally, Khione lifted a hand and touched the faint bruises along her ribs, tracing them with delicate fingers. They didn’t hurt much anymore. Instead, they served as reminders—reminders that she was still growing, that she had not yet reached her peak.

Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

"Elreth... next time, I’ll surpass you and crush you under my feet. You are truly something.’’

With that vow lingering in her mind, Khione closed her eyes and allowed the bath to cradle her. The heat, the scent, the silence—all of it came together, not just as rest, but as renewal. When she finally emerged, droplets sliding down her pale skin, her white hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, her crimson eyes burned with quiet resolve.

After leaving the bathroom, Khione slipped into a plain white nightgown. The fabric was soft and light, brushing against her skin as though to remind her she was no longer in the harshness of battle but in the quiet safety of her own room. Her damp white hair clung loosely against her shoulders, leaving faint traces of water on the cloth.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, the mattress dipping under her slight weight, and reached for the oversized teddy bear resting at her side. Hugging it against her chest, she absentmindedly stroked the bear’s soft fur, her stoic expression unchanging—except for the faint tension around her crimson eyes as she glared at the glowing screen of her smartphone on the nightstand.

"Why hasn’t he called... nor even sent a message?" she muttered, her voice low, almost drowned by the hum of silence filling the room.

It was strange, even to her. For someone who rarely showed emotions, she was clearly unsettled right now. And no one could blame her. After all, it wasn’t long ago that she had nearly lost her life inside the pocket world. The memory of blood, pain, and suffocating darkness was still vivid. And yet, when she had emerged from the hospital afterward, she and Nero had exchanged contacts—a gesture that carried far more weight for her than it might have for anyone else. Until then, she had only shared her number with a few people, and they had always been family.

From the books she had read, there was a certain rhythm to these things. Usually, when a woman exchanged her contact with a man, the man would be the first to reach out, flooding the silence with words, eager to talk. But Nero... Nero was different. Days had passed, and not a single notification had appeared on her screen. The emptiness of that silence bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

What made it worse was that Nero’s existence contradicted so many of her instincts. He wielded the Law of Fire—her opposite. By nature, she should have found him irritating, unbearable, like fire clashing against ice. Yet... she didn’t. Instead, she found herself drawn to him. The three days they had spent together had carved themselves into her memory, moments she couldn’t shake away no matter how she tried. She found herself recalling the sharp glint of his eyes, the way his presence burned with quiet intensity, the way his swordsmanship carried a raw, self-forged strength. He was unusual. Different. And she wanted to understand him. Perhaps even fight him again—this time without interruptions, without restraints.

Her gaze softened for the briefest second before she quickly shook her head and reached under her bed. She pulled out a book, the cover plain yet carrying an embarrassingly direct title: How to Make a Friend for Lonely and Hopeless People.

Khione didn’t mind the tittle as she flipped it open with the same seriousness she gave to studying ancient tomes of magic. Her slender fingers turned the pages with precision, until she reached the Chapter about exchanging contact information. Her eyes scanned the words intently, absorbing every line.

According to the book, in the case of women, one must never take the initiative when exchanging contacts with a man. If the man was interested, he would be the one to reach out first. That was the law. That was what the book said.

"This book wouldn’t lie... I’m sure of it," she whispered, tightening her hold on the teddy bear as if drawing strength from it.

Her ice blue eyes, usually so cold and sharp, now flickered with a strange mix of doubt and expectation. She focused entirely on the text before her, as if the answers to her unease were hidden in the ink. If anyone—her classmates, her rival, even her family—were to walk in and see her like this, they would never believe it. The girl known as the Ice Queen, stoic and untouchable, was sitting on her bed in a nightgown, hugging a teddy bear, anxiously waiting for a man’s message.

It was absurd. Impossible. And yet, it was real.

For the first time, Khione’s world was shifting—not because of her training, her battles, or her destiny, but because of one person who had somehow changed the rhythm of her heart. Proof that even the coldest of people could be moved, depending on the situation... and the person they met.