After the class ended, Edward stood up and waited for Yevdokiya to pack her things to leave.
Looking through the half-open door, they watched her jump off her seat and saw her being helped by the people around her. In fact, she did not touch a single item. The people around her moved immediately, gathering her belongings as if it were routine.
A good portion of the students present stood still, waiting for her. The sight before them was quite something to behold, as a group of people followed her like a bunch of ducklings.
Nuriel noticed their faces, recognizing that they were the same soldiers who had unleashed fire from above during the train incident.
He remained seated, quietly observing Edward as he approached the girl.
Yevdokiya paused right in front of Edward, the height difference forcing her to look up almost at the ceiling.
Edward immediately presented himself with a solemn bow, stating his business with her with practiced charm. "If there's something you want, I can provide it."
He waited for a response. However, it did not come as quickly as he had imagined, as Yevdokiya stared at him blankly, with an expression resembling dismissal rather than acceptance.
Nuriel, watching from the bench, nearly laughed as Edward's stoic face cracked ever so slightly with each passing second, as if willing her to request something grand, something lavish.
Behind Yevdokiya, the group began to develop a more anxious posture for every second that she didn't speak.
Nuriel continued watching, finding the growing scene almost comical. He couldn't help but relish it deep in his memory.
Finally, Yevdokiya sighed. She turned to glance at her entourage, and they snapped to attention at once. Her gaze alone was enough to knock the breath out of them.
She turned back after seeing the pathetic sight.
"You're that person from before, right?" she said flatly. "Go treat them to a meal." She gestured behind her.
After those touching words, the people behind her cheered. Yevdokiya turned around again, silencing them almost immediately with a mere stare.
"You people should go do your thing. I'm leaving."
Before she could take another step, the soldiers behind her shouted in protest.
"No, Major!"
"We won't accept this"
"Absolutely not!"
The group shouted before standing at attention. The synchronized stomping of boots shook the hallway with a loud bang, then they saluted and shouted, "Please come with us!"
Yevdokiya turned around again. The group's vigor faltered the moment they met her gaze.
***
Nuriel helped himself to a seat in the corner, choosing to eat alone in the restaurant that was now packed with officers from Yevdokiya's group.
He observed the rowdiness while chewing freshly made steak. Despite being students, most of them were just as old, or even older, than him.
While eating in the midst of his thoughts, a gentleman a bit older than him approached, snapping Nuriel back into reality.
"Is that Edward your friend? I'm envious. He's quite loaded," the man said with a wry smile before sitting down at Nuriel's table.
Nuriel quietly took his time to swallow his food before replying with a question. "Who is that girl to you?"
The man cleared his throat as a bead of cold sweat appeared on his forehead. His fearful gaze fixed on Nuriel.
"I'd recommend not saying that in front of the Major," he said, staring into the distance where Yevdokiya was seated, eating.
He added, "Major Yevdokiya is the leader of our flight group. She's also our ace witch. Don't let her age fool you for even a second."
The man discreetly turned to Nuriel, covering the side of his mouth before speaking in a shaky tone.
"She's a monster… like… I'm pretty sure she is..."
Nuriel chuckled at the statement, but he took every word seriously inside and chose not to show it.
"Why did she join the military at that age?" Nuriel asked, picking up a glass of wine courtesy of Edward.
"I just joined this regiment a month ago, but I think no one knows why. Apparently, some of my comrades tried bringing it up once, but she quickly punished everyone with more drills and training whenever it happened," the man said, leaning back in his chair as he imagined whether he would've survived had he joined earlier.
"Right..."
Nuriel remained quiet for a while, focusing on tasting the wine in his glass. After a satisfying sip, he drifted into thought about which person he would pick for the Witches' Scepter.
There wasn't any point in keeping it for himself. Every time he received a fragment, he gained its upgrades. He didn't fear losing it, as he imagined that he'll eventually find a way to use the scepters that didn't belong to him, like Yushin's
For the current time and for him, it was a waste to let it float idle in the throne room without an owner.
'How did you go about this, Steel Witch.'
Twirling the glass, he began comparing the red liquid to a person. Nuriel only wanted the best of the best, not some cheap wine that could easily be acquired and discarded after use.
But how could he find such a person when it required strict qualifications? Not that he was a picky drinker, but it was rather how difficult it id to obtain good candidates.
Vivienne was an agent loyal to Solaris, Edward Mass or his sister weren't good candidates despite their wealth, a Yuncandel is also devout to the service of the Steel Witch and the kingdom.
If he encountered a prime candidate, he could certainly communicate with them and somehow coerce them into joining him.
Finding the air too still between them, the man blurted out some words in an envious tone.
"She also has the most potential out of all of us. The highest magic capacity, firepower, control, and some other stuff I won't even bother listing... As a matter of fact, she'll actually be appointed as a saint sometime next week."
'A saint?' Nuriel had some unpleasant thoughts.
. . .
'I wouldn't drag someone her age into this... right?'
Nuriel questioned himself. He stared at Yevdokiya, a girl peacefully eating a hearty meal, ignoring the loudness and mess of her officers, who were twice her size and some thrice her age. A rifle too big for her, and the stories the man had told him. Maybe she was indeed a monster disguised as a little girl.
The word "saint" was too appetizing. There was a jackpot right in front of him, a powerful and high-ranking person, just what he needed.
'Sorry Steel Witch, but you won't get a saint next week.'
"Praise the Witch," Nuriel whispered.
The man beside him flinched at the strange tone of voice. Something in Nuriel's smile made him uneasy.
But Nuriel didn't notice. His eyes were still locked on the girl across the room.
She was the perfect vessel.