Ian reached out his hand.
‘It’s just conducting a mana flow for perception anyway; I’ll just treat it as an advanced magic lesson,’ he thought.
A glint of success flashed in the depths of Otillia’s eyes, though she remained solemn and serious on the surface.
She extended her fair, slender hand and gently grasped Ian’s wrist.
This position appeared professional yet allowed the pads of her fingers to rest right against the pulse thrumming in his wrist.
Her fingertips were slightly cool and very soft.
Ian cast aside his stray thoughts and began to provide a steady output of mana flow.
Otillia immediately closed her eyes as if focusing all her attention on the sensation.
Her long, golden eyelashes cast faint shadows beneath her eyes.
She felt the warmth radiating through his skin and the faint throb of his flowing blood.
‘And there’s that scent unique to Ian!’
It all made her heart sway, making her almost lose control and pull Ian into her arms to shower him with affection.
Under the sunlight, Otillia’s beautiful face gradually flushed a rosy red.
Just as Ian began to feel that the woman’s grip was becoming a bit too firm, Sherivelle’s soft, gentle voice rang out at the perfect moment.
“Excellency Caerslana… I… I also don’t seem to understand. The steady output of spatial mana seems a bit different from ordinary elemental magic… It isn’t listening to me very well. Could you… please give me some guidance as well?”
She bit her lower lip slightly, her red eyes looking at Ian with a watery gaze.
Combined with her frail, pale face, no one could refuse such a “studious” and “helpless” young lady.
Ian was about to withdraw his wrist from Otillia’s hand, but Otillia had already released him “just in time.”
She gave a slight nod, looking perfectly composed, as if she had mastered the essentials.
“Thank you for your guidance, Excellency. I roughly understand now.”
She stepped back, yielding the “stage” to Sherivelle.
Otillia needed to compose herself.
Ian didn’t think much of it and replied, “Of course, Miss Sherivelle. Please, come here.”
Sherivelle approached gracefully, her posture elegant and careful.
“It’s like this…”
She extended her small, delicate hand toward Ian.
“I don’t know how to express the problem. I need Excellency Caerslana to hold my hand to sense it…”
Ian was stunned for a moment by Sherivelle’s maneuver, but considering the unique nature of spatial magic, he still took that soft, small hand.
However, to Ian’s surprise, the moment his hand touched hers, Sherivelle’s extended hand quickly flipped over and spread her fingers wide.
In the end, their hands became palm-to-palm with their fingers tightly intertwined.
The warmth and softness coming from her palm made Ian stiffen.
He instinctively wanted to pull back, but he felt a “naughty” fluctuation of mana from her side.
Ian had no choice but to brace himself and help Sherivelle guide it.
A moment later, the mana fluctuations from Sherivelle’s palm stabilized.
Sherivelle didn’t linger and quickly withdrew her small hand from Ian’s grasp.
“Thank you, Excellency Caerslana. I have learned how to control spatial mana now…”
After saying that, Sherivelle moved away quite decisively and returned to her spot to begin her sensory practice.
Ian was speechless.
He felt like a prop that had accidentally wandered onto a strange movie set.
These two women…
Why did it feel like they were both finding ways to touch him?
Was it his imagination?
‘It must be my imagination!’
One was a noble lady trying hard to integrate into social life after her Task Correction, and the other was a genius mage who had just “recovered.”
How could they possibly have feelings for a common instructor like him who was wearing a mask?
‘It must be because the course requires it! Yes, it’s all for the sake of learning!’
Ian convinced himself.
Over the next period of time, similar scenes repeated themselves.
Either Otillia wasn’t proficient in controlling a certain basic magic, or Sherivelle didn’t know how to use spatial magic as a supplement.
The two women went back and forth with all sorts of excuses, but they cleverly kept everything within the “reasonable” scope of teaching requirements.
Every contact was brief and never crossed the line.
This prevented Ian from feeling that anything was too wrong, and he could only brace himself to satisfy their “studious” requests again and again.
But as the saying goes, the Pythagorean theorem applies to all triangular relationships.
As it happened more often, Ian began to feel that something was off.
‘Are these two women taking advantage of me?’
Just as this thought grew stronger and his brows began to furrow slightly, the two women stopped their harass—… “requests for advice” with perfect chemistry.
Ian looked at the two women, who had suddenly attained enlightenment and were now devoted to their practice, and didn’t know how to speak up.
Was he really overthinking it?
He shook his head, casting the doubt aside, and turned his gaze toward the “outsider” protagonist.
“Highness Arthur, next, let’s try a preliminary team coordination drill. I will act as your opponent.”
Amivie, who had finally joined the local network, finally had a chance to speak.
Watching this guy get so close and personal with the two beautiful girls during “teaching” had made her incredibly jealous.
Amivie nodded, her motivation reignited.
It was time to show her strength and let the two beauties see that she was also qualified to teach them!
“Come on!”
Amivie was full of energy at this moment.
But reality once again made her burn with jealousy!
With Ian acting as the opponent for the three-person squad, Otillia and Sherivelle always found various strange reasons to “clumsily trip.”
And these trips perfectly landed them right into the arms of their “opponent,” Ian.
It made the Hero, Amivie Loswether, look like an incompetent husband who could only watch helplessly as her Saintess teammate fell into the arms of the Demon King.
Once, she even saw Ian catch Sherivelle, whose “lack of skill” with spatial magic led to him accidentally kissing the corner of her mouth!
This caused Amivie’s pupils to shake.
She was so jealous her eyes were practically spitting fire.
Dammit!
I’m not being this stupid Hero anymore!
I want to be the Evil Dragon!
How was she supposed to play this?!
Her teammates were like hypnotized puppets, throwing themselves into the opponent’s arms one by one in all sorts of “suggestive” ways.
After a few more “accidents,” Amivie slammed the wooden sword in her hand onto the ground!
*Thwack!*
But she hadn’t expected the quality of the wooden sword to be surprisingly good.
Instead, it bounced back and delivered a “righteous” critical hit to her forehead.
It left the protagonist crouching on the spot, clutching her head.
Pulling Otillia out of his arms, Ian looked at Amivie with confusion.
“Highness Arthur, what’s wrong?”
Otillia and Sherivelle also followed Ian’s voice, looking at Amivie as she stood up with a red bump on her head.
“Kevin Caerslana!”
Amivie shouted forcefully.
“I am here, Highness Arthur.”
“We’re switching places! I’ll be the enemy for you and the two ladies!”
Ian let out a confused, “Huh?”
Wasn’t this training for the protagonist’s party’s teamwork?
What did she mean by making him the Hero?