Chapter 57: A Normal Person’s Daily Life

The days settled into a rhythm.

Ever since the "rent-a-boyfriend" contract was established, Uriel's student life had become surprisingly predictable.

Mornings were for walking to the Fourth Academy with Tian. Lunches were spent sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Seraphina in the cafeteria. Afternoon outdoor classes meant automatic partying up, and after school, he was occasionally summoned to carry her things or accompany her to the library.

They hit every checkpoint of a standard romantic comedy.

Walking across campus, Seraphina stayed on his left. She always maintained the same distance. When their arms brushed, she would shift away by an inch, but she never dodged. Sometimes, she even held his hand.

In the cafeteria, she would slide the small, meticulously prepared side dishes toward his side of the table. When he reached for them with his chopsticks, she wouldn't even blink. It was pure muscle memory at this point.

His two friends had evolved past shock and settled comfortably into numbness.

Leo would still occasionally bury his face in his arms at the dining table, muttering "why, why, why" into his sleeves like a corrupted audio file.

Kai, on the other hand, was playing the long game. He was just waiting for the inevitable breakup so he could put everything he'd learned from Uriel into practice from watching Uriel.

Uriel ignored them both.

The real problem started after sundown. Returning to the inn was the actual final boss of his day.

"What did she put in your bowl today?"

"Vegetables."

"Just vegetables?"

"And a piece of fish."

Tian sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded neatly on her knees. She looked incredibly serious, like she was reviewing a daily report.

"She gave you fish. Was it her favorite dish, or..."

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"Sleep time."

Tian closed her mouth. She stayed quiet for a few seconds.

"How far along are you two?"

"Sleep time."

This was the nightly ritual. His mother's gossip subroutines had found a brand new host in Seraphina. The topics cycled from posture to personality, and from personality to figure. The moment the conversation threatened to derail into weird territory, Uriel's brain initiated an emergency shutdown.

Until one specific night.

"Little Uri, did you notice the skirt Seraphina wore today? The length was perfect. It wouldn't trip her up while walking, and it allows for a full range of motion if she needs to run."

Tian sat by the bed, folding the uniform jacket Uriel had taken off that day. Her tone was incredibly gentle, as if she were discussing the seasoning in tonight's stew.

Uriel was lying on his stomach, flipping through a borrowed textbook on mana theory. He didn't look up. He just grunted.

"And her hair today. She had a small braid on the side. The technique didn't look self-applied, so she probably had a female friend help her. It shows she keeps things low-key but cares about the details. That is exactly the kind of girl you bring home to the family."

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"When did you start analyzing her braids."

Tian placed the folded jacket next to his pillow and tilted her head. Her gentle face showed zero embarrassment. Instead, she looked like a veteran sharing critical parenting strategies.

"And her pelvis."

The textbook snapped shut in Uriel's hands.

"Her bone structure is ideal for childbirth. Back when I was at the Adventurers' Guild, I reviewed a lot of physical data on female adventurers. Seraphina's skeletal structure falls into the absolute optimal category for reproduction. That's ideal for having children."

Uriel pressed the textbook flat against his face and sank deeper into the mattress.

"Mom. You're doing the 'bloodline' thing again."

"I am talking about serious matters."

"You have a great figure too," Uriel said. He pulled the book off his face, rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. His tone shifted from dead inside to deeply exhausted. "And your romantic experience is still a blank page. Emotional foundation is what actually matters. Understand?"

Tian didn't get mad. She aligned the folded clothes perfectly by the pillow, placed her hands back on her knees, and looked at him. The maternal warmth in her eyes was practically overflowing.

"Little Uri is right. You have depth. You have principles. You value emotional bonds. I am very happy."

Uriel put the textbook back over his face. If this conversation continued, sleep was mathematically impossible. He asked a different question from under the pages.

"How have you been? I haven't been attending classes with you."

"I've been taking outdoor classes with some of the more hardworking students. Helping them catch up. There was a girl whose Stone Bullet kept missing the target. I taught her a few times, and she can hit the center now."

Uriel shifted the book just enough to peek through a gap. Tian was looking down, adjusting her cuff. The profile of her face was impossibly soft in the dim yellow light.

Even when he wasn't shadowing her, she was still exactly the same. Taking care of everyone, everywhere she went.

---

A few days later, Uriel finished his swordsmanship class and returned the wooden sword to the rack. That was when it hit him.

The Witch's loadout.

Last time in the Headmaster's office, Tian had transformed a thermos into a blade of light. It was intimidating, sure, but it was a temporary patch. The Holy Sword Witch didn't even have a proper sword. That was unacceptable.

Then there was the outfit. The black-and-white military uniform from last time was woven entirely from mana. Tian said it could hold its shape for ten years, but they couldn't rely on that kind of upkeep forever. She needed a real one. Tailored.

After class, he cut across the training grounds and found Tian by the main academic building. She had just finished correcting a classmate's magic circle and was crouched on the ground, drawing the correct runic structure with chalk.

Uriel walked up, tapped her shoulder, and kept his voice low.

"Let's go check out the Royal Capital."

Tian dusted the chalk off her hands and stood up. She was just about to follow him.

"Uriel."

The voice came from the side. Uriel turned.

Seraphina was standing by a pillar in the corridor, holding two books she had just checked out from the library.

She wore her standard-issue, factory-calibrated polite smile. Then her gaze drifted past Uriel's shoulder and locked onto Tian, who was standing half a step behind him.

Seraphina stopped dead. Her feet planted firmly three paces away. She didn't take another step forward. Her fingers tightened around the books until her knuckles turned white.

The distance was highly specific. It was the exact social buffer reserved for complete strangers, not the roommate of the boy she was supposedly dating.

Tian's reaction was instantaneous.

Before Uriel could even open his mouth to smooth things over, Tian slapped a hand against her forehead. The motion was wildly exaggerated. Her palm smacked her skull with an audible thud, and her body swayed for dramatic effect.

"My head hurts so much. I think I have a fever."

The delivery was completely flat. It had all the convincing power of a text-to-speech engine reading a grocery list.

Tian practically had "faking it" stamped across her forehead. She shot a quick, sneaky glance at Uriel. The look clearly translated to: Mommy is creating an opening for you. Do not waste it.

"I'm going back to the dorm."

Then she left. She walked fast. Her steps were light and bouncy, entirely inconsistent with a sudden, debilitating fever. She rounded the corner at the end of the hall and vanished completely.

Uriel stared at the empty corner. His mouth twitched.

That was painfully fake.

Whatever.

He turned back to Seraphina. Since his mother had already forced the narrative down this path, he wasn't going to bother pulling it back. Besides, bringing Seraphina along to order the Witch's sword wasn't a huge liability. He would just figure out a way to ditch her once they reached the shop.

"Want to go for a walk?"

Seraphina stared at him for a moment. Then she nodded.

---

The commercial district of the Royal Capital wasn't far from the Fourth Academy. It was about a fifteen-minute walk.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the gaps in the shop awnings, painting stripes of gold across the cobblestones.

Uriel had a very specific target. It was a small, custom weapon workshop hidden in a narrow alley behind the main street.

The shop was tiny. There was no sign hanging outside, just a wooden plaque shaped like an anvil with a faded character for "forge" carved into it.

He had found the place on the Adventurers' Guild bulletin board. The rumors said the master's skill rivaled the big-name shops, but he hated socializing. That suited Uriel perfectly.

When they reached the mouth of the alley, Seraphina stopped.

"I'm going to grab some food over there."

She pointed toward the main street, where a row of food stalls was pumping out a mixed cloud of barbecue smoke and the sweet smell of baked pastries.

Uriel paused, then nodded. She really was the hyper-observant daughter of a Count. She had definitely figured out he was here for private business and was tactfully giving him space.

No clingy surveillance. No relentless curiosity.

Or maybe she's just afraid of getting kidnapped.

By the time Uriel walked out of the blacksmith's shop, the sky was half dark.

He put in an order for a rapier, specifically designed to match the Holy Sword Witch's striking black-and-white military aesthetic. His specifications were precise: a silver guard, a hemispherical cup hilt, and a slim blade modeled after a standard thrusting sword.

The master was a hunchbacked old dwarf. After hearing the specifications, the dwarf stared at him over the rim of his glasses for a full five seconds and snorted.

"Kid, who is this for? This isn't for self-defense. This is for killing."

"No edge needed. Just make it durable."

The dwarf took the job and quoted a price that was fair, if slightly steep. Uriel paid the deposit, scheduled the pickup for a week later, and walked briskly back to the main street.

Seraphina was standing under a street tree on the corner. She was holding two ice cream cones and a paper bag. Cold air seeped from the bag, and the rims of drink cups were visible inside.

"Here." She handed him a cup of milk tea and pushed an ice cream cone into his free hand.

Uriel looked down at the cone. Vanilla. The top was already starting to melt, and a small drop of cream was sliding down the edge of the wafer. He quickly took a lick.

They walked down the commercial street and found a bench next to a flower bed.

The evening breeze was much cooler than the daytime air, rustling the petunias in the planter. The streetlamps were flickering on one by one, washing the cobblestones in a warm orange glow.

Uriel ate his ice cream and thought things through. He still hadn't ordered the clothes. He couldn't exactly walk into a tailor shop with Seraphina watching and ask for a heavily stylized, edgy military uniform.

He needed an excuse to get rid of her.

He was looking down, biting into the crispy edge of the cone, when he felt something loosen on his right foot.

His shoelace was untied.

Uriel shoved a bite of ice cream into his mouth and held the cone out toward Seraphina.

"Hold this for a sec."

He bent down to tie his shoe. It was a fast job. Maybe fifteen seconds.

When he stood back up, he took the cone from her and was about to take another bite. Then his eyes locked onto the ice cream.

There was a very distinct bite mark on the side of the scoop. It wasn't the one he had taken earlier. He remembered biting near the edge of the wafer. This mark was on the front of the scoop. The arc was smaller, the indentation shallower and much neater.

It looked exactly like someone had taken a small, delicate bite out of it.

Uriel's eyes locked onto the mark. He looked up.

His brain short-circuited. Wait. This wasn't romantic. This was a test—a corporate loyalty test disguised as a "casual gesture."

If he flinched, she would know he was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable meant unpredictable. Unpredictable meant she wouldn't trust him with her secrets. He had to play along.

"You're getting a little bold."

Seraphina was holding her own cup of ice cream, scooping a small bite into her mouth with a spoon. She didn't even twitch an eyebrow at his comment. She just pointed at his cone.

"It was melting. It was going to drip."

Uriel looked down. There was indeed a drop of melted cream sliding toward his fingers. He quickly licked it up. Then he looked back at her, his tone laced with a very specific, complicated frustration.

"I already ate from that."