Chapter 223

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Chapter 223

Xerath held her hand and swayed and twirled her around. Their bodies gradually became warmer as they moved closer together, with no chance of separating, enveloped in a faint scent. The heat continued to rise.

She smelled the familiar scent, indicating that the distance between them had surpassed the width that Xerath would mind. But Xerath didn’t let go of her, the slender and elegant hand of the archmage still holding her waist, although there was not such a sensitive feeling around her waist. She could only sense some other qualities of this hand.

Warm, firm, powerful.

Every movement of Xerath was very precise, Sylas didn’t put much effort in her first dance with her mind elsewhere (she had practiced diligently for today’s performance before). She floated along in this long-awaited embrace, carried by the waves, almost without exerting any strength, hardly needing to think about the next move.

She used to think of her teacher as calm and mysterious as the sea and today, she was carrying her like the sea, until a wave tossed her out.

She suddenly woke up from daydreaming, after leaving Xerath’s guidance, she had to move on her own, luckily it was just a spinning step.

Kuowa had taught her this spinning step several times and always reminded her, "Such is human nature, even if you don’t want something anymore, once you’re about to lose it, you’ll always think about holding on to it."

Xerath held her hand and just before the turn was about to end, she suddenly let go.

Xerath almost immediately grasped her fingertips tightly, pulling her back faster than she had imagined.

Just half a beat later, she spun and crashed into Xerath’s arms, where she stopped. The stern archmage stood behind her, his right hand around her front, still holding her hand tightly. His left hand wrapped around her waist, as if wanting to keep her embraced.

Sylas turned, pleasantly surprised, only to find Xerath’s face inches away from hers, looking at her with a slight tilt of the head.

Too close, she could smell Xerath’s warm breath. Their noses were almost touching. If the archmage lowered his head a little more, their lips would touch.

This half a beat felt like a long time. During this period, her heart seemed to stop beating. She stared at Xerath, who slightly parted her lips, seemingly inclined to lower her head. With a sense of fear, Sylas closed her eyes.

The breath brushed against her face, the warmth getting closer. The archmage’s pleasant yet calm voice whispered softly at her ear, "Pay attention."

Without much thought, she counted the beats silently, taking a step back and leading Sylas in a half turn. She held her hand tightly and returned to the correct dance steps.

But that was just the beginning of the fancy dance steps. In the following steps, Sylas repeatedly moved away from her, and Xerath repeatedly pulled her back. However, she never gave the mischievous little creature a chance to fool around. From start to finish, she held Sylas’s hand tightly.

The archmage had powerful control over her dance partner. No matter how far Sylas ran, she would be pulled back into Xerath’s embrace. Then, following Xerath’s instructions, her upper body would lean forward, with only Xerath’s arm supporting her waist.

Not to mention those ambiguous closenesses that have already made Sylas’s heart flutter. Almost as soon as Xerath lightly hooked her finger, she would find herself in a comfortable position she had just arranged.

Sylas hoped that this soothing tune would never stop, but unfortunately, the ending passage had appeared. The sound gradually slowed down, became quieter, and finally stayed in the position where she was enclosed in Xerath’s arms. She dared not move, and in the silence of the whole audience, she heard Xerath take a deep breath.

She turned around and happened to see a drop of sweat sliding down her forehead, gliding down her delicate cheek, and onto her chin. She couldn’t help but reach out and wipe it off for the archmage, asking, "Are you tired? Do you want to take a break or have a drink of water?"

Xerath’s expression almost completely froze in that moment, and after a while, she answered somewhat hurriedly, "No, there’s no need. This piece of music itself is tiring. Don’t you feel sweaty after performing the male steps?"

Sylas smiled and said, "Yes," and Xerath turned her shoulder to make her face herself, holding her hand. It seemed like they were going to continue with the next piece. It seemed like there were people around who wanted to invite Sylas, but seeing someone occupying her, they hesitated and didn’t dare to approach.

Daugny noticed, but pretended not to know anything. She paid attention to quite a few things: Virgil and Titus almost escaped, so they are still surrounded by girls; Kuowa scared away everyone who wanted to dance with Eilan using illusions; Emerson and the emcee Arian Wiper were dancing together and were currently the focus of the venue…

She held Sylas’s hand and swayed slowly. Both of them unknowingly became relaxed. When their gazes met, Sylas showed that shy and timid smile again. She pursed her lips and laughed alone for a while, then softly asked her, "Teacher, is Titus really that popular?"

The archmage said, "I think you’re not bad either. Isn’t it because all of our contract demons are like this? You’re nothing like me."

"Oh, I… I…"

Xerath smiled and looked at her.

"I don’t have many friends, and there are quite a few people who dislike me."

"When they come to bother you, do they use really mean words to insult you?" Xerath asked softly.

"Yes…yes," she suddenly raised her voice, "but I don’t care. I don’t care how many people like me, and I don’t need to hear their opinions."

"Yes, you understand, that’s good." Xerath seemed to scan her shoulder seriously, as if trying to brush something off, "Your interactions with most of them will only last a year or two, and soon you’ll leave them behind. Only your contribution to the entire community will be eternal."

"You too! You too…eternal."

Xerath sighed and smiled, "The human body is still very fragile. I may not age, but I am not exempt from death."

Sylas looked up at her with sadness, her hand that was resting on her shoulder tightened involuntarily. "No, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you."

Xerath didn’t know what to say, so she gently patted Sylas’s clenched hand. But as soon as she let go of Sylas, her other hand reached out and grabbed her own.

Sylas… She didn’t know how to comfort Sylas. She only spoke the truth. Since it was the truth, they should accept it.

Sylas looked very troubled. Both her hands unconsciously gripped the fabric on her shoulders. She didn’t know where to put her empty hand, so she ended up placing it on Sylas’s waist.

If they were in a brightly lit place, the archmage would have definitely noticed that their current position was not very dignified. But here, everything was so dim, and everyone around them was in a similar position – leaning in closely, even hugging each other, swaying with the gentle rhythm.

"I’m just explaining this possibility objectively. It doesn’t mean it will definitely happen, okay? Stop worrying about these rare events and enjoy your last days of school, alright?"

Indeed, Sylas’s face brightened up with these words. The youthful smile returned to her face. Xerath held her hands, wanting her to let go of the wrinkled fabric (Hyectra would surely complain about needing to iron it), but Sylas resisted slightly, as if reluctantly letting go.

She gently pulled Sylas’s arms back. Perhaps it was the gentle smile that enchanted this beautiful beast. Sylas weakly let go of her grip, and her arms rested on Xerath’s shoulders.

This time, it was really close. They broke through the aroma of old parchment. Xerath’s breath was warmed by her own breath, turning into a warm and sweet scent. She wanted to breathe in deeply, without any care, while also being afraid that Xerath might notice something.

She thought that at this moment, those grey eyes must be incredibly beautiful: the only gleam of light in the dark night. The shimmering gaze even reflected colors on her own face. Sylas took the courage to look up, timidly meeting Xerath’s calm eyes. But after a moment of eye contact, she couldn’t bear it and lowered her head – that gaze was too clear as if it could see through all secrets. She feared that in just a few moments, Xerath would see through everything and question her about why she harbored such impure thoughts. And the warmth she currently possessed would truly become an illusion, turning into ashes with just a touch.

This thought was truly disheartening. Sylas avoided direct eye contact and quietly stared at Xerath’s lips. Just like before, in a place unknown to Xerath, she could indulge in fantasizing about her teacher.

The cold and sharp lines converged into a delicate and beautiful jaw, with lips that were deeply red and a barely visible mysterious smile at the corners. She couldn’t help but sigh, and almost at the same time, Xerath sighed too.

What is she worried about?

Sylas hesitated for a long time, unsure of how to ask, but just then, she heard a strange sound and felt a tap on her shoulder. Both Sylas and Xerath turned their heads to look, blushing, and then quickly looked away. Xerath coughed and whispered, "Excuse me."

The couple who couldn’t bear to part from their passionate kiss slowly made their way into the distance.

This is too embarrassing.

It’s also very unusual.

Archmages had always treated these men and women who were shamelessly affectionate in public, as if they were dealing with animals in heat. But for some reason, when they thought about Sylas being next to them, they felt awkward and didn’t know how to behave, as if their secret of "I want to do the same to you" would be revealed.

They were afraid that the same sound emitted by the two little people kissing in their minds would be heard by Sylas.

She almost dared not look at Sylas, but Sylas was too close, occupying every corner of her vision. As long as she didn’t completely turn her head away, she could still see Sylas.

Sylas looked down without knowing what to look at. She had no choice but to keep her head down, fearing any eye contact.

The adult-sized wild creature cuddled obediently in her arms, but the visible part of its eyes no longer looked innocent. Now, it was stunningly beautiful, and just looking at it up close made one wonder if their lips meeting would be as sweet and soft as imagined.

How excited would someone feel if she stared at them?