Chapter 266: Make Magic Listen
The class window expanded in front of NukEncore while Alexandra continued smiling at her.
[You have received a new quest: Make Magic Listen.]
[Mage Class Evolution: Spellweaver]
[A Spellweaver shapes mana through instinct, combines compatible spells, and stabilizes new magic of her own.]
[Quest Objectives:]
[Successfully use three different original combination spells during the same battle.]
[Original combination spells used: 0/3]
[Exploit an opening created by an ally with an original combination spell five times.]
[Openings exploited: 0/5]
[Create one original spell by combining three compatible skills.]
[Three-skill combinations created: 0/1]
[Defeat an Elite or Boss with an original combination spell while every party member remains standing.]
[Elite or Boss enemies defeated: 0/1]
[Reward: Your Mage class will evolve into Spellweaver.]
NukEncore read the description once, frowned, and returned to the line about allied openings. On the second reading, her eye began to twitch.
Alexandra leaned toward her. She could not see the private window, but she had spent too long reading scripts and other actors to miss the reaction.
"Something wrong with your quest?"
"No. It has nothing to do with you."
"Then why did you glare at me?"
NukEncore snapped the window closed. "Because it wants me to use openings created by allies, and I know exactly what comparison you’re about to make."
"I haven’t made one."
"You made the harem face."
"I wasn’t aware I had one."
"You do, and I hate it."
Kumoe’s right head turned toward Alexandra, who scratched beneath her jaw.
"I’m happy for your progress," Alexandra said.
"You’re happy because you think everything supports your harem scheme."
"I wouldn’t say everything." When the right head leaned harder into her fingers, Alexandra gave in and scratched more firmly. "Most things, perhaps."
NukEncore looked at Martin. "Tell her to stop."
Martin had not moved from Kumoe’s side. Rain plastered his clothes against his body, and exhaustion darkened the skin beneath his eyes, but he was still watching NukEncore closely enough to make her cheeks warm.
"What?" she asked.
"How many of you made this agreement?"
NukEncore looked at Alexandra.
Alexandra returned the glance and offered nothing.
Martin’s eyes narrowed. "That many?"
"It depends on what you count as agreeing," Alexandra said.
"That still isn’t an answer."
"It was more of an informal understanding," NukEncore replied.
"You said the rules were clear."
She folded her arms beneath her chest and lifted her chin. "They were informally clear."
Martin stared at her.
NukEncore held out for several seconds before her chin rose another fraction.
"Don’t use that look on me. You’re the one kissing women on public roads."
"There was no one here until you arrived."
"I arrived!"
"That doesn’t make it public."
"It became public to me!"
Alexandra covered a laugh with one hand.
NukEncore whirled toward her. "You’re enjoying this because you already secured the first-mover advantage."
"The first-kisser advantage too."
"Alexandra!"
The curious head barked along with NukEncore, delighted by the noise. The middle slept through everything, while the right watched both women with the patience of someone waiting for them to reach an obvious conclusion.
Martin raised one hand. "Stop."
Neither woman spoke.
"No more making rules about me where I’m the only one not invited," he said. "You need time, take it. You want to say no, say no. But you tell me yourself."
"We were trying not to corner you," NukEncore said.
"You left me in the middle without telling me there were corners."
"That is not how corners work."
"You held meetings about me."
"They were not meetings."
Alexandra glanced at her. "There were agendas."
NukEncore stared at her. "Whose side are you on?"
"My own, naturally."
Martin dragged one hand down his face. "Exactly."
Kumoe’s curious head pushed beneath his arm. He scratched behind her ear, mostly to give his hand something useful to do while he tried to sort through the mess.
When he looked at NukEncore again, his voice had lost its edge.
"I thought the flirting was just you being you."
"It is me being me."
"You like people looking at you."
"I put a great deal of work into being worth looking at."
Martin glanced at the fingers twisting into her wet sleeves.
"But you don’t throw new Epic spells at every woman who kisses a man near you."
NukEncore’s hands stopped moving.
Alexandra stayed quiet. She did not rescue her, needle her, or turn the pause into another joke.
NukEncore looked down at her sleeves.
"It started with the critical strikes," she said. "You used Threat, my attacks finally listened to me, and I heard that sound. Then you did it again. And again."
Martin remembered the training ground, her wild Arcane Mana Bolts, and the smile she had worn before she noticed everyone staring.
"You looked at the worst part of my build and called it interesting," she continued. "Do you know how unfair that was? Everyone else either laughed or tried to fix me. You found a use for it."
"It made good training."
"Yes, thank you. Very romantic."
"You liked that I meant it."
NukEncore’s mouth opened, then closed again.
She turned her face aside. "I liked that you defended me when people stared. I liked that you remembered what I wanted to eat. I liked that you carried me through the mine even when I complained the entire way."
"You were afraid of the dark."
"I was cautious in an unlit combat environment."
"You held on to Clause with both hands."
"She has excellent balance."
Alexandra’s lips twitched, but she remained silent.
NukEncore glared at Martin for making her defend herself, though the anger could not survive the warmth creeping into her face.
"When the Goblin Boss trapped all of us, you came back for me," she said. "You could have relied on Alexandra. You could have found Clause. Instead, you planted your shield in front of me and told me to finish it."
"You were the one with the shot."
"That’s the point." Her voice lost some of its stage-bright polish. "You saw me panicking and still trusted me with the ending."
Martin’s hand slowed in Kumoe’s fur.
NukEncore looked away again. "Then I finally told you who I was."
"I remember."
"I gave you my real name. Rias practically recited my entire career at you, and I stood there waiting for the change."
"What change?"
"The one that always comes."
Her fingers tightened around the fabric at her elbows.
"People become careful. Every joke gets tested before they say it. Every favor starts sounding like an investment. Men who were perfectly normal five minutes earlier suddenly need me to understand how much they’ve always admired my work."
Martin frowned. "I hadn’t heard most of it."
"I know. It was deeply insulting."
"You seemed relieved."
"I can be two things at once."
"That sounds familiar."
NukEncore glanced at Alexandra. "Don’t encourage him."
"I haven’t spoken."
"You’re enjoying it silently."
"Immensely."
Elisebeth faced Martin again.
"You learned who I was, and then you kept calling me Encore. You still argued with me. You laughed when I missed, stared at my chest without an ounce of subtlety, and told me no whenever I deserved it."
"You’re making me sound great."
"I’m explaining why this is your fault."
"My fault?"
"I was happy being the one woman you treated normally. Then normal stopped being enough."
The rain ticked against her robes. Her eyes dropped to the hand Martin had buried in Kumoe’s fur, and after one last hesitation, her fingers closed around his wet sleeve.
"I don’t create Epic spells to throw women out of your arms because you’re a useful tank," she muttered.
Martin looked at her hand.
Elisebeth followed his gaze, but she did not let go.
"I like you, Martin. For real. Enough that seeing her kiss you made my magic lose its mind before I did."
Alexandra glanced at the ruined undergrowth. "Your magic and I remember that order differently."
"Stay out of my confession!"
"You involved me rather forcefully."
"I’ll apologize when I’m less angry."
"I look forward to the performance."
Martin had known Elisebeth wanted him. Hearing her say it still landed differently.
There was no flirtatious escape hidden inside the wording, no playful wink waiting to turn it into a joke. She stood in the rain gripping his sleeve as though letting go would weaken the admission.