Chapter 34: Before the Farewell

Early morning.

Celia slowly awoke from her sleep.

Her consciousness wasn’t fully clear yet, but she could feel someone holding her right hand, patiently tracing the bones of her fingers, stroke by stroke, with slow deliberation.

She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. In her blurred vision, she saw Onyxia’s profile, close at hand.

“Xia… what are you doing?”

Celia’s voice was thick with sleep as she tried to pull her hand back.

But her whole body felt as if it had been taken apart, aching with a familiar soreness and weakness.

She couldn’t muster much strength and couldn’t pull free from Onyxia, who seemed to be in very good spirits.

Onyxia, following the force of her withdrawal, instead tightened her grip on that hand, her fingertips still lingering on those slender knuckles.

“Your hands are beautiful. I like them very much.”

Celia, whose eyelids were drooping with sleepiness, shot a look that clearly said ‘idiot’ before turning her head away.

She suspected she was being mocked, but had no proof.

What use was having pretty fingers?

If they weren’t put to proper use, being pretty was useless.

However, the fingertips disturbing her peaceful sleep didn’t stop.

Another pair of hands reached over.

They grabbed Celia’s other hand, moving from the knuckles to the palm, tracing lightly at a slow pace.

A fine, tingling itch, mixed with a strange warmth, shot straight up from her palm.

Celia had had enough.

With her eyes closed, she suddenly grabbed back, accurately pinching Ilyas’s mischievous finger, squeezing it mercilessly!

“And you, stop messing around too…”

Ilyas’s finger was caught, but she didn’t struggle.

Instead, following the force, her fingertip lightly scratched Celia’s palm.

Then, before Celia could react, Onyxia, who was beside her, suddenly leaned in closer.

A kiss lightly landed on Celia’s lips, which were slightly pursed from drowsiness and a hint of annoyance.

It was brief, just a touch and then gone, but it successfully scattered most of the remaining sleepiness.

Celia’s eyes snapped open, meeting Onyxia’s face, which was right in front of her.

Before she could speak, her mouth was kissed by Ilyas.

“So early in the morning,” Celia quickly pushed them away, glaring at the two of them, trying to make her gaze appear more intimidating, though it had little effect.

“A kiss is fine, but I’m warning you, I’m not accepting the next step.”

“But Ilyas is going to leave with the Inquisitor soon,” Onyxia’s voice was coaxing, her fingertip lightly hooking Celia’s palm.

“Once we’re apart, who knows how long it will be before we see each other again! Aren’t you even willing to fulfill this one little wish of hers before she leaves?”

Celia’s ears felt hot.

She glared at Onyxia with annoyance, then glanced sideways at Ilyas, whose gaze held a hint of expectation.

“Cut it out,” her voice carried shame and irritation.

“Didn’t I… satisfy you enough last night?”

As she spoke, she subconsciously rubbed her waist, muttering softly, “My whole body still aches, especially because of you, Ilyas!”

Her eyes were filled with accusation.

“Is that how you’re supposed to use your Holy Light Magic? If the Goddess of Light knew that the holy power she bestowed upon you to heal wounds and purify filth was being used… used to relieve this kind of… exercise fatigue, she’d probably cry from her divine throne in anger!”

“But… but… it’s really effective… Celia, you clearly said it felt good last night, and it’s rare for you to faint.”

Onyxia chuckled softly beside them, earning another glare from Celia.

She wisely raised her hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go out now, leave you two some… private space.”

She drew out her words, getting up slowly and deliberately.

Amidst the rustling sounds of her getting out of bed and dressing, Ilyas buried her face deeper into the crook of Celia’s neck, her pale golden hair softly brushing against Celia’s chin.

She didn’t speak, just tightened her arm around Celia’s waist.

Celia knew Ilyas was reluctant.

There was no other way; she finally spoke.

“Just once…”

Celia heard her own voice compromising.

“I really can’t take any more.”

Ilyas’s eyes instantly lit up, as if stars had fallen into them.

She nodded vigorously, almost pouncing, but restrained herself at the last moment, only gripping Celia’s hand tighter.

Onyxia had already slipped out silently, thoughtfully closing the door behind her.

When only the two of them remained in the room, the morning silence took on a different warmth.

Ilyas’s movements were gentle, carrying an almost reverent tenderness, completely different from some of her actions last night.

She kissed Celia’s forehead, the tip of her nose, the corner of her lips, as if confirming a treasure regained.

Celia was initially still tense and weary, but under Ilyas’s extremely gentle assault, her defenses gradually relaxed.

Her sore, weak limbs were carefully arranged, and the slight pains were patiently soothed.

As the final aftershocks slowly subsided, Ilyas didn’t snuggle up as usual.

Instead, she propped herself up, carefully wiping the thin sweat from Celia’s temples and smoothing her disheveled silver hair.

Her gaze was still clear, but it held a deeper reluctance.

“I’ll miss you, Celia,” she said softly, her fingers lingering on Celia’s cheek one last time.

“Every day.”

Celia grasped her wrist, bringing it to her lips for a light kiss.

“…Mm. I… and Xia will come to the Holy Kingdom to pick you up.”

“And,” Ilyas leaned closer, her gaze looking straight into Celia’s eyes.

“I don’t want… when the time comes, for there to be anyone else by your side besides Xia.”

Celia was slightly taken aback for a moment, then turned her face away.

Her silver hair slipped down, half-hiding her somewhat subtle expression.

Her tone sounded light, but it was like stating a simple fact: “That’s not… something I can decide. I can’t stop others… from falling in love with me.”

“Playgirl,” Ilyas immediately spat out the word, pursing her lips.

But there was no real condemnation in her eyes; it was more like a resigned kind of playful reproach.

Celia chuckled softly, raising her hand to ruffle Ilyas’s hair.

“Can’t be helped,” her voice carried a hint of laziness.

“This is probably just… the nature of a Dark Elf.”

“Alright, time to get up. All sweaty, sticky… need to go wash up.”

Ilyas nuzzled Celia’s cheek before slowly pushing herself up.

As she moved, her gaze involuntarily swept over Celia’s neck, collarbone, and even further down to those… rather excessive marks she had left.

Pale pink and bright red, they stood out starkly against Celia’s skin.

Celia followed her gaze and looked down, then glared at Ilyas.

“Look at what you’ve done! How… how am I supposed to face anyone like this?!”

She could almost imagine Selina’s teasing smile and Violet’s all-knowing gaze.

“It’s fine, we can use magic. Besides, Onyxia’s marks are mixed in there too.”