Chapter 439: Wishing Vines

Luca opened his mouth to protest against the baseless accusation, but Mavis cut him off.

"Don’t deny it! You impregnated an entire elf village! You have a harem of dozens of wives! You’re a perverted man through and through, even if you are the Hero!"

She looked at him condescendingly. "So I decided to use that against you. And look—it worked perfectly!"

She spread her arms, gesturing at the statues around them.

Luca looked at the statues again, then back at her.

"You made all of these? By yourself?"

"Of course!" She looked at him with disdain. "Everyone else in this village is nothing but muscles. No brains at all. They can swing a sword, but they can’t create anything beautiful. Me on the other hand..."

She patted her own chest proudly, making it jiggle.

"Well, I’ll just say I’m the one compensating for the lack of artistic talent in this clan!"

Luca sitting right below her chest couldn’t help but notice that despite her small stature, she had quite a plump chest. The leather apron did little to hide it.

Mavis continued, oblivious to his observation.

"I studied so many textbooks for this! Anatomy books, art books, whatever I could find! I wanted to make sure every single detail was correct. I didn’t want to screw anything up."

"And it all paid off!" She looked at the statues with satisfaction. "Just as I predicted, you walked right into my trap, completely mesmerized by the sights around you."

She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"And the final statue—the slime girl? I knew you had a particular...fetish with slime girls. So I saved that one for last. I knew it would be the one to finally break your concentration."

Luca felt his face heat. "It’s not a fetish. It’s...academic interest."

"Whatever you say, Dummy Hero." She waved a dismissive hand. "The point is, it worked! I captured you! I, Mavis, the greatest blacksmith in the world, have defeated the Hero!"

She laughed again, the sound rich with triumph.

"Not once, but twice now! First the duel, and now this! I’m unstoppable!"

Luca watched her celebrate, and despite his current predicament, he felt a grudging respect.

’She’s brilliant.’ He admitted to himself. ’Absolutely brilliant. She didn’t try to outfight me—she knew she couldn’t. So instead, she found my weakness and exploited it perfectly. She used psychology, not strength. Just like in the duel.

He thought about her tactics in both encounters.

The first time, she had used tricks and gadgets—unconventional warfare that had caught him completely off guard.

This time, she had used his own nature against him, creating an elaborate trap that played on his...appreciation of beauty.

She would make a terrifying war strategist.

But there was still one thing he didn’t understand.

"Alright. I understand you’re happy about trapping me. But why? Why go through all this effort?"

Mavis stopped laughing and looked at him.

"Why do you need to trap me and defeat me like this?" He continued. "Do you...do you hate me? Is this about what happened with your sister?"

Mavis stared at him for a long moment.

Then she scoffed.

"Of course not, Dummy Hero. Why would I hate you? You had nothing to do with what happened between me and Sigrid."

She looked away, her expression complicated as she added,

"In fact...you were the only one who supported me. During the duel. Everyone else was against me, but you...you defended my right to fight."

She shook her head.

"So no, I don’t hate you. That’s not what this is about."

"Then what is it about?" Luca pressed. "Why all of this? Why work yourself to exhaustion making statues? Why go through such an elaborate scheme?"

Mavis was quiet for a moment.

Then, in a matter-of-fact tone,

"You see, after I defeated you the first time, I was so proud of myself. I thought I had proven something, that I could win through cleverness, that I didn’t need to be strong to be victorious."

Her expression darkened.

"But then my sister refused to accept my victory. She said it wasn’t a real win. She said I used cheap tricks, that I embarrassed myself and our family."

She scowled. "I’m used to that, though. Big Sis has always been like that—rigid, traditional, obsessed with honor. I knew she would react that way. It frustrated me, but I could handle it."

She looked at Luca with sudden intensity.

"But what I couldn’t handle—what really pissed me off—was everyone else."

"Everyone else?"

"The other centaurs!" Mavis’s voice rose with anger. "After the duel, they started saying that what I did was a fluke! A one-trick pony! They said I would never be able to defeat you again, that I just got lucky once and that was it!"

She clenched her fists, her small body trembling with remembered fury.

"They looked down on me! They dismissed my victory like it meant nothing! And I couldn’t—"

She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down.

"I couldn’t accept that. I couldn’t let them think of me as some one-hit wonder who got lucky and then faded away."

Luca nodded slowly. "So you decided to prove them wrong."

"Yes!" Mavis threw her hands up. "I decided I would defeat you again with an even better plan, an even more elaborate scheme and show them all that I wasn’t just lucky! That I’m genuinely capable! That I’m the smartest person in this entire village!"

She looked at Luca with fierce pride.

"And I did it! I caught you! Again! So now they can’t say it was a fluke! Now they have to acknowledge that I, Mavis, am truly the greatest!"

Luca stared at her in dismay and in that moment, he understood.

’They really are sisters. Completely different in personality, but fundamentally the same.’

One sister would take seventy-three rounds on her knees with a jaw like broken glass before she’d admit she couldn’t finish a promise.

The other sister would spend two days carving an anatomically correct lamia out of scrap metal, just so she could prove a point to people who’d snickered at her.

They were both immovable in their own ways.

Neither would ever back down from what they believed in.

"...What?"

Mavis snapped, catching his expression.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

She then thought of something and suddenly crossed her arms protectively over her chest.

"Hey! Don’t get any ideas, by the way! I know you just spent five minutes staring at every set of breasts in this yard. But you don’t get to see mine. Mine aren’t for public viewing."

"I’m not thinking about that."

"Then what?"

"I’m just thinking...that you really do take after your sister."

Mavis froze. Something flickered in her eyes—uncertainty? Vulnerability? Gratitude? It was hard to tell.

Then she shook her head quickly.

"What are you talking about?" She scoffed. "Me and my sister are completely different! Look at her—she’s massive. Look at me—I’m small. We’re nothing alike."

"It’s not about how you look." Luca said. "It’s your spirit. You both have the exact same spirit inside you. The thing that refuses to quit."

Mavis’s expression flickered.

For a moment, she looked almost...touched. Like someone had finally seen past her prickly exterior to something deeper.

"Whatever." She muttered. "You’re the dummy one here, Dummy Hero. For getting caught."

She started poking his forehead.

"Dummy Hero~ Dummy Hero~ Dummy Hero~"

She poked him over and over, as though he were a toy she had captured and could play with however she wanted.

Luca didn’t resist. He simply sat there, watching her with an expression of patient amusement.

"You know." He said eventually. "Even though you put this net over me, you haven’t actually captured me. I can just tear through this and escape whenever I want."

He grabbed the net with both hands, testing its strength.

"These vines don’t feel particularly strong. A little force and they’d snap easily."

Mavis stopped poking him and smirked.

"Oh, Dummy Hero~ I doubt you can do something like that~"

Luca raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Are these some kind of magical vines that can’t be broken?"

"No, the net itself isn’t strong at all. Even Nella and her little ones could break it if they wanted." Mavis’s smirk widened. "The secret isn’t in the vines themselves. It’s in what’s written on them."

Luca frowned. "Written on them?"

He looked closer at the vines.

And froze.

There were markings on them—small, delicate scripts etched into the surface.

They were written in the Elven language, he realized. The characters were a bit clumsy, clearly the work of someone who had only recently learned to write them, but they were legible.

And when Luca read what they said, his eyes widened.

"The love between Leona and I shall prosper forever."

"Luna and I will live a long, happy life."

"May my wife Alia and I grow old together in joy."

"Blessings upon every child born to our family."

There were dozens of messages. Wishes for happiness, health, prosperity. Love notes to his wives. Blessings for his unborn children.

All written in the Elven language.

All addressed to the people he loved most.

Luca stared at the net, completely stunned.

"What...What is all of this?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean, what is it?" Mavis looked at him with genuine surprise. "You lived in an elf village! I thought you would know about this tradition!"

When Luca continued to stare blankly, she sighed dramatically.

"Fine. I’ll educate you, Dummy Hero." She gestured at the vines. "This is an Elven tradition. When someone has a wish, a deep, heartfelt desire, they write it on special vines and hang them up. It’s a way of manifesting that wish, of giving it power through the spirits of the forest."

She pointed at the net.

"These are prayer vines. Wishing vines. Whatever you want to call them. And I’ve covered this entire net with them."

Luca looked again, and realized she was right. Every inch of the net was covered in those delicate scripts. Every strand of vine carried a wish, a blessing, a prayer.

"I got all the names from the other centaurs." Mavis continued proudly. "They told me about your wives back in the elf village. So I made a wish for every single one of them. For their health. For their happiness. For their marriages to you."

She looked at Luca with something like triumph.

"And now you can’t break the net—because breaking a wishing vine is taboo in Elven culture. If you break it, the wish will never come true. The spirits will be offended. Bad luck will follow."

She smirked.

"So go ahead, Dummy Hero. Tear through the net. See what happens."

Luca stared at her and then he laughed.

"What are you talking about? I’m a human! I don’t believe in such superstitions. I can easily break through these vines and escape."

Mavis clicked her tongue.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Dummy Hero. I’m saying this for your own good."

She leaned in, her smirk widening.

"If you break those vines...your wives back home will never forgive you. You’ll probably never be able to enter the elf village again. You’ll be sleeping outside forever."

Luca frowned. "What? That’s nonsense! That won’t happen."

But even as he said it, doubt crept into his voice.

Mavis’s confidence was unnerving. And when he thought about it, he realized she might be right.

He needed to check!