“Training, of course.” Abigail replied, with a smile that disguised a slight hurt, her sarcastic tone trying to hide the frustration of having been fooled by Edgar’s trickery.
“I know that.” Edgar retorted, smiling cunningly. “But I want to know what kind of training this is.”
Without warning, he used his fingers to send a small portion of aura to one of Abigail’s sensitive spots. The aura once again bypassed her defense and spread gently, like an unexpected and warm touch, causing a shiver similar to that of a sudden hug.
The heat of the aura enveloped her for a moment, causing her to flinch slightly, as if she had been touched by something invisible and comforting, but at the same time, surprising.
Abigail was paralyzed for an instant, the strange sensation running through her skin, her heart beating faster because of the sudden proximity of the aura. She tried to maintain her composure, but she couldn't hide the slight shiver that ran down her spine.
"You seem really good at using Voracious Mode, don't you? How about we test it out more when we get back, Brat?" Abigail said, staring at Edgar with an angry frown, trying to hide the discomfort and the shivers that still ran down her skin. There was a slight hint of discomfort in her tone, but she tried her best to keep her seriousness.
Edgar, in turn, stared back at her with an expression of someone who knew exactly what he had caused, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. He was enjoying the situation, like a child who teased an adult in a cunning way, without the slightest fear of the consequences.
His gaze was full of mockery, as if he was enjoying the tension in the air, and his mocking attitude made Abigail feel even more uncomfortable. He knew she wanted to hide her reaction, and that was exactly what made her more vulnerable.
She kept her gaze fixed on Edgar, but her chest tightened with growing frustration. She could feel Edgar's aura pulsing in the air, as if the provocation would never cease.
Inessa, watching the exchange of intense glances, sighed with a slight disdain. She already knew the dynamic between the two very well and was not willing to let it go on. She then intervened calmly, her voice soft but firm. "They are training their concentration while learning to manifest aura," she said, diverting Edgar's attention, trying to bring his focus back to the training.
"But aren't they a little old for that?" Edgar asked, with a tone of genuine curiosity and a touch of strangeness, as if something didn't fit in the scene before him. His gaze scanned the grassy field, where the girls were focused on their exercises.
“…” Aglaya didn’t react immediately, but her gaze shifted to Edgar, her face impassive.
“Heh…” Hendrina, on the other hand, gave a bitter smile, her shoulders slumping slightly. She wasn’t sad, but Edgar’s words had struck her unexpectedly, awakening a sense of humiliation in her.
“As I said, nothing in this world is simple.” Abigail said with a sarcastic smile, her eyes shining with an almost cruel interest. She sat back in her seat, looking pleased, as if the opportunity to teach Edgar a lesson in humility was a dish she couldn’t wait to savor. “You see.”
With a slight, almost playful smile, Abigail made a movement of her fingers, and her aura materialized into snowflakes, which danced gently in the air, forming a small globe above her hand.
The flakes began to cluster together in a single point, quickly transforming into a snowball that grew to the size of a fist. Then she squeezed the ball, compressing it until it turned into a solid, cold, shiny piece of ice. With a simple flick of her wrist, the ice melted almost instantly, the water condensing into a shiny bubble.
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The bubble began to bubble gently, as if it were boiling, and soon turned into a cloud of vapor, which spread into the air with a snap of her fingers, disappearing in a sigh.
“Most people are not as lucky as you, born without talents or ideal living conditions. 99% of people need years of effort and dedication to do something like this,” Abigail said in a measured tone, but her gaze carried a subtle challenge, as if the simple act was proof of her superiority.
"Humph. A Dragon Lady talking about privilege. The height of hypocrisy.” Edgar replied, with a disdainful smile, completely indifferent to what he had just witnessed. Despite knowing the hardship involved, his posture suggested that it did not impress him in the least.
Abigail gritted her teeth, a flash of anger flashing through her eyes. “Why, you…!” She almost lunged at him, her hand raised, ready to grab Edgar’s neck, but caught herself at the last second. Her expression hardened, and with a glare, she turned to Aglaya and Hendrina. “Show him, girls,” she ordered, her voice now cold and authoritative.
The two began to manipulate their auras, trying to replicate Abigail’s feat. However, it took them almost five times longer to complete the entire cycle. The difference in execution was clear, and it did not go unnoticed by Edgar.
“You see, Young Lord, Aglaya and Hendrina, as well as the other girls in Nenvia, are the cream of the crop of talent on the entire planet Ruach,” Abigail said, her tone now more serious, but still laced with sharp provocation. “They are the 1% within that 1% of the world, and yet, they have difficulty manifesting aura and manipulating it as they wish. Imagine what ordinary girls with no talent, no support, and no resources face whenever they are undergoing training like this…”
She paused, letting the words hang in the air, a mischievous smile forming at the corners of her mouth. Her intention was clear: she wanted Edgar to see the size of the disparity between those who were blessed with Aura and those who did not have that kind of privilege.
“Dear Abigail, being so stressed is not good for you,” Edgar said, his voice soft but full of teasing. He leaned slightly to the side, his shoulders almost touching hers as his eyes fixed on her, a smile at the corners of his mouth revealing his pleasure at the situation.
With deliberate calm, he reached out his hand and, in an unexpected gesture, slid it to Abigail’s face, caressing her skin with his fingertips. His fingers glided over her skin, with the lightness of someone who knew exactly what they were doing, creating a feeling of closeness that made Abigail feel disconcerted, despite her attempt to maintain her composure.
Edgar's gesture was almost like an affectionate touch, but there was a clear provocation in his attitude. His hand, now resting lightly on Abigail's shoulder, conveyed a sense of subtle dominance, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on her.
She tried to stay focused, but his proximity and delicate touch were unsettling her. Abigail looked away for a moment, trying to compose herself as she felt the pressure of his touch, even though it was a simple gesture.
"Anyway, dear Abigail," Edgar continued, his voice now filled with slight provocation, "my question is why teenagers are practicing this. Isn't the perfect age to practice it in late childhood?"
Abigail felt an urge to retaliate, but his hand still rested on her shoulder, his fingers so close to the back of her neck that she could feel the heat of them on her skin. It was a touch that seemed casual, but charged with provocation and dominance.
“Humph, you’re too bold, brat. Careful…” She finally reacted, taking his hand firmly and pulling it away from her shoulder.
“I think it’s perfect…” he murmured, intertwining his fingers with hers just as she tried to let go. The gesture was quick, almost natural, but impossible to ignore.
Abigail pursed her lips, feeling the heat rise in her face. She looked away, this time toward the grassy field where the rows of girls were training. “Tsk,” she grumbled, but made no effort to let go of his hand.
Abigail began speaking in a neutral, professional voice, trying not to show the emotions that boiled beneath her calm surface. “The best age to start training is really at 12. It’s common knowledge,” she said, her words coming out with a soft but firm cadence.
She avoided looking directly at Edgar, keeping her gaze fixed on a distant point, as if she were concentrating solely on the explanation. But Edgar didn’t let that happen, tightening their clasped hands, and silently teasing Abigail at every turn.
She avoided looking directly at him, keeping her gaze fixed on a distant point, as if she were concentrating solely on the explanation. She continued, her words measured and precise:
“Some races may start earlier or later, but most go through puberty at this age. However, by law, in Bordium, it is forbidden to encourage and promote the manifestation of aura in girls under the age of 17.”