Chapter 478: Ashe, Keep It Together!

Drip, drip, drip...

Sitting on the sofa, Ashe tracked the steady sound of water echoing from the bathroom. He closed the Book of Gospel and walked over to the freezer to retrieve a chilled can of Azure Lala Fat liquor.

The Azure Lala Fat stood out as one of the rare Lala Fat species unfit for consumption, yet the alcohol distilled from them was exceptionally refreshing and crisp. For someone like Ashe, who typically showed little interest in drinking, it was an immense pleasure.

Splash... drip, drip... tick... tick, tick... hissss...

He tried his best to anchor his focus, but the rhythmic cadence of running water filled his mind, vividly painting a picture of the scene unfolding inside the bathroom.

He had never specifically trained under the Brute Body Class to strengthen his physique, but mana functioned as a universal energy source, gradually refining a sorcerer's physical capabilities over time. The Swordswoman had once proposed an intriguing hypothesis: a sorcerer, at their core, was actually a spirit. By that logic, a Four-Winged sorcerer was fundamentally a Four-Winged spirit.

Compared to standard spirits designed for a single, specialized function, sorcerers possessed a vast array of abilities, such as moving, eating, learning, and reproducing. The crucial difference lay in independence; sorcerers executed these daily functions naturally without needing mana to drive them. Consequently, they rarely consumed their mana reserves merely to buff their own bodies.

Some scholars had wondered if a sorcerer could bypass spirits entirely, using raw mana to enhance their physical body to a level where they could shatter boulders with a single punch. The catch was imagination. A sorcerer could only manifest what they could precisely visualize. To strengthen a fist, they would need to mentally map out the exact biological mechanics, like skin as hard as bronze, bones as tough as iron, and the precise execution of explosive, internal, or penetrating force.

Yet, by the time a sorcerer could perfectly conceptualize such details, they would already possess the capability to summon specialized Fist and Claw Class spirits like Iron Fist or "One-Inch Fist[1].

Mana, spirits, and sorcerers formed a closed loop. Elderly sorcerers, however, proved to be the grand exception to this rule. Their natural physical abilities faded far below their youthful peak, but they carried the distinct advantage of having lived through their prime. Because that peak condition fell well within the realm of what they could vividly remember and imagine, these elderly sorcerers could expend mana to restore their bodies to their absolute prime, maintaining that youthful state indefinitely. This stood as one of the strongest pieces of evidence supporting the Sorcerer-as-Spirit Hypothesis.

Becoming a sorcerer did not technically extend a person's lifespan. In fact, because dying in the Virtual World carried the risk of triggering sudden death in reality, many sorcerers lived much shorter lives than ordinary citizens. Supported by the luxury of never needing sleep and the ability to lock their bodies at peak physical condition, their quality of life, however, remained exceptionally stable.

All of this context served to clarify one simple truth, which was that Ashe's hearing was not naturally superhuman. Driven entirely by his own surging desires, he had intentionally pushed his auditory senses to their absolute limit using mana.

"Ah!"

Ashe bolted upright. "What happened? An assassination?"

"No, no, nothing happened," Annan's voice teased from behind the door. "Don't use this as an excuse to rush in, okay? I'll scream if you do!"

Initially, Ashe had genuinely worried that Gospel Ashe had launched a surprise attack. Hearing Annan deliberately provoke him with such playful, adorable coyness caused an inexplicable heat to bloom in his lower abdomen. He sat back down, taking a massive gulp of the chilled Azure Lala Fat Liquor, hoping the icy liquid would cool his racing thoughts.

It was a strange dynamic. Whenever Annan actively teased him or clung to him, he could easily hold the line, maintaining a righteous, defensive attitude that silently declared, You may claim my body and unlock every position imaginable, but you will never possess my heart. Yet now, with Annan explicitly stating that nothing would happen tonight and that he would be sleeping alone on the sofa, his mind ran completely wild.

He slapped his own cheeks, scolding himself thoroughly. Ashe, get a grip. Annan only wants you here because she doesn't want anyone else to see her vulnerable side, and she needs to feel safe tonight. If you lose control, she'll lose all respect for you! Besides, she doesn't even view you that way. Remember, she can control you directly, and she is carrying her second sister, Donna, who fires literal nine-millimeter rounds. If those two team up, you're done for. Maybe I should ask Iger to hypnotize me and temporarily wipe out all my desires?

He quickly dismissed the thought. No way. That veela would mock me for the rest of my life. Forget it. It's not like I've never seen beautiful women before. In terms of pure aesthetics, Annan is on the exact same level as the Swordswoman and the Witch. Those eyes of hers are just devastating. It feels like my entire soul is being pulled into them. Fine. I simply won't look at her face. Tonight should be easy enough to survive.

Just as Ashe managed to steel his resolve and calm his heart, the bathroom door creaked open.

A graceful, slender leg stepped barefoot onto the plush carpet. "Ashe, are you going to take a shower?"

"I—" Ashe turned around, immediately slamming a hand over his face. His fingers, however, betrayed him by spreading much wider than his palm. "Where are your clothes?!"

Annan emerged wrapped in nothing but a single bath towel. Steam rolled off her vibrant purple hair from the lingering heat, and stray water droplets rolled down her bare shoulders, tracing the line of her collarbone and arms. The towel offered minimal coverage, barely concealing her hips and chest while leaving her long legs completely exposed. She looked like a fresh lotus emerging from a pristine pond, radiating the irresistible charm of a veela.

To make matters worse, she had neglected to dry herself completely. A few stubborn droplets glistened on her skin, trembling with her movements. Ashe usually despised untidiness, and a stern, disciplinary lecture should have followed. Right now, his gaze was completely paralyzed.

The visual damage extended far beyond her face. Looking at any part of her felt like taking a direct hit to his sanity.

"I usually change into my pajamas in the bedroom," Annan explained, sitting before the vanity to brush out her hair. "Sometimes I don't even wear clothes to bed, so I forgot to bring a fresh change into the bathroom tonight. Asking you to fetch them felt weird. I didn't want you rummaging through my underwear drawer."

"Couldn't you have put your old clothes back on?"

Annan shot a glance back at him. "Putting dirty clothes back on after a hot bath completely defeats the purpose of washing. Since you're staying here, I can't exactly change out in the open. Hurry up and go take your turn."

Ashe snatched his spare clothes and bolted into the bathroom, throwing the lock shut for his own safety. Stripping down instantly, he stood under a freezing stream of water, desperate to shock his system back to reality.

A paranoid thought crossed his mind. Could Annan be executing a Mind Class Miracle to sabotage me?

Reflecting on her behavior, he realized that was impossible. Annan's tone had been perfectly normal, her logic was airtight, and her actions were entirely proper. She maintained a casual, friendly distance, showing zero intent to seduce him. This total loss of composure was entirely his own fault. He could hardly blame her for simply being breathtakingly beautiful.

Furthermore, her willingness to step out in a towel reflected a profound level of trust. Just as she had exposed her deepest vulnerabilities to him, she felt comfortable sharing her unfiltered, everyday habits in his presence. He had focused entirely on her physical allure, completely blind to the emotional intimacy she was offering.

Deep shame washed over him. Resolving to fix his shallow mindset, he sat down in the bathtub, determined to spend the rest of the night buried in the Book of Gospel. He would actively avoid looking at her, ensuring temptation never had a chance to take root.

He froze. Why does the room smell so distinctly of violets?

Ashe lowered his gaze, spotting delicate purple petals floating lazily in the water.

After a moment of realization, the truth hit him. This was Annan's residual bathwater. The young lady had been soaking in this exact tub mere minutes ago. Wait, wait, wait. It's not like I've never shared bathwater before. Back when Iger finished bathing, I used to hop right in after him without a second thought. Iger's cologne smelled way stronger than this! There is absolutely nothing to freak out about. Stop overthinking it. Ashe, keep it together!

Ashe tried to convince himself to stay calm, yet he still felt his body temperature rising far too quickly. He cut the most comfortable part of his day, the bath, short, dried himself off, changed into his pajamas, and walked back out into the room.

"Finished?" Annan asked.

She was propped up against the wall on the bed, her vibrant purple hair tied up loosely and draped over her right shoulder. A plush blanket covered her legs, and she wore an oversized white button-down shirt that clearly belonged to someone much larger. Perched on her nose was a pair of glasses as she quietly read through the Book of Gospel. "You can sit on the bed if you want. Just remember you have to return to the sofa once we enter the Virtual World."

Ashe stared blankly at her shirt, momentarily losing his train of thought. "That shirt..."

"It's yours," Annan raised both hands, playfully shaking the loose sleeves that completely swallowed her palms. "I left my pajamas back in the other room, and lounging around in formal clothes isn't exactly comfortable. I happened to spot this in your luggage and borrowed it. You don't mind, do you?"

"I don't mind the shirt," Ashe replied, "your glasses, on the other hand..."

Annan explained, "Blue-light blockers. The Book of Gospel is incredible in every way, yet the light it emits is simulated sunlight, which can damage the retina over time. Damage caused by it is treatable, but I prefer wearing these as a precaution. They cut down on eye strain, too."

Ashe nodded in understanding before sitting down at the vanity to finish drying his hair. Annan cast a quick glance his way, saying nothing, then turned her attention back to the drama playing on her screen.

The cult leader methodically dried his hair, masking the absolute tempest raging inside his mind. Tsunami waves crashed against his mental shores, surging forward in an endless, relentless assault. He refused to glance at her even out of the corner of his eye, terrified that he might lose his grip and transform into a lust-driven Sovereign Blade-Carp! Why is this happening? Annan isn't doing anything overtly seductive, so why is my mind running completely wild with inappropriate thoughts!?

Wearing his white shirt while sporting those glasses felt like an absolute cheat code. This level of casual allure should have been strictly illegal. Rounded up, it was practically an assassination attempt on his sanity.

Setting the towel aside, Ashe exhaled a long breath of relief and carefully climbed onto the mattress. Annan remained entirely engrossed in her show, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Taking advantage of her distraction, Ashe edged closer, inch by inch, until he sat right beside her.

Attempting to sound perfectly casual, he asked, "What are you watching?"

"From the Old World," Annan replied, tilting the screen slightly so he could share the view. "It's a fantasy comedy. The story follows a group of Old Era immigrants entering the Gospel Kingdom in a futuristic setting where the Gospel provides infinite, free resources. A series of ridiculous, hilarious conflicts unfold because they stubbornly reject the Gospel's guidance, insisting on clinging to their outdated lifestyles."

Free and unlimited supplies from the Gospel... Ashe pondered. If this were his old world, it would be classified as a sci-fi utopia powered by limitless energy. An interest in science fiction was something Ashe completely lacked. His gaze casually brushed against the projected screen, and he suddenly froze. "Who is that girl? The one hitting someone?"

"The second female lead. She's one of the Old Era immigrants, originally from an incredibly impoverished village. She's highly impulsive and reckless. Upon arriving in the Gospel Kingdom, she swings wildly between deep inferiority and defensive arrogance, sparking most of the show's major conflicts."

She shifted her gaze to him. "What is it? Do you like the actress?"

"No," Ashe quickly corrected. "She just reminds me of someone."

"Someone with a similar personality?"

"Not at all. Their personalities are completely different, and their faces look nothing alike. There isn't a single shred of resemblance."

"Why did she cross your mind, then?"

"I honestly don't know," Ashe said, scratching his head. "The thought just popped up out of nowhere."

Annan looked at him for a beat before turning back to the screen. The two of them watched the rest of the episode in companionable silence. As the story wrapped up with a heartwarming, happy ending where the immigrants finally integrated into society, Ashe spoke up, "How much time do we have left before the operation?"

"There are only two rankings left in the Woven Festival. Judging by the current progression speed, the operation will launch the day after tomorrow at the absolute earliest. At the latest, we have five days."

"Five days..." Ashe murmured. "Time is running out fast."

Annan agreed softly. "Yes. If there is anything left you want to do, you should take care of it while you still have the chance."

"Right," Ashe nodded, shifting his weight. "It's about time for me to dive into the Virtual World. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Annan said. "I'm going to review the information streams for a bit longer."

Ashe settled cross-legged on the sofa and opened Aurora's Sorcerer's Handbook. He selected Virtual World Exploration, diving into the world alongside the Swordswoman and the Witch. The moment his eyes closed and his consciousness drifted toward the Continent of Time, Annan quietly shut the Book of Gospel.

Tossing the blanket aside, she slid out of bed and padded over to him. Had Ashe been conscious, he would have realized she was wearing nothing under that oversized white shirt.

The Purple Moth leaned down, studying his resting face with a look of genuine perplexity. "Strange. The videos Evelyn sent me made it clear that this exact look was his weakness. He was clearly on the verge of losing control earlier, so why did he suddenly pull back?"

She pondered the mystery for a long moment, unable to deduce the answer. Ultimately, the outcome pleased her far more. Flirting with disaster proved the baseline strength of her allure, while his ultimate restraint proved the strength of his character.

Annan pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips curving into a soft smile. "Goodnight, my knight."

1. This is a reference to Bruce Lee's One-Inch Punch. The technique was developed in Wing Chun, a southern Chinese martial art. The style emphasizes close-quarters combat where fighters are crowded together; mastering the ability to generate explosive force with zero breathing room is a vital survival skill. ☜