The amber sky was slowly fading into twilight.
Darkness once again began to blanket the entire forest.
Yet, Rikuto and Emilia were still not finished dealing with the giant wolf.
Crackle—snap—crackle—snap—
A roaring bonfire burned steadily in the center of the snowy clearing.
Thanks to Rikuto having cleared the surrounding trees earlier, there was no risk of a forest fire, and they had plenty of wood to keep it going.
Orange flames flickered upward, trailing wisps of pale smoke into the darkening sky.
Faint traces of blood still lingered on both Emilia's and Rikuto's faces—but rather than looking gruesome, it gave them a kind of hardworking, rustic charm.
Right now, the two of them radiated the aura of diligent laborers, worn but focused.
Emilia: "Rikuto."
The silver-haired girl looked up at him.
Rikuto: "What is it?"
He glanced her way, puzzled but attentive.
Emilia: "Your face."
She pointed to his cheek.
Emilia: "There's a lot of blood here."
"Want me to wipe it off for you?"
As she spoke, Emilia stood up, clearly intending to help clean Rikuto's face—even though they had originally agreed she would assist with the dissection, Rikuto had ended up doing most of the work while she handled minor tasks.
It wasn't that Emilia didn't want to help, but rather that Rikuto was deliberately using the opportunity to study the anatomy of the wolf, experimenting with various dissection techniques.
If he got the hang of it now, the next time they caught a giant wolf, he could use [Process Simplification] to automatically dissect it—efficient and clean.
Rikuto: "Of course I want you to."
He nodded without hesitation.
Having a silver-haired waifu wipe sweat and blood from your face when you're tired from work—what guy wouldn't want that? Especially with no one else around. Rikuto wasn't the type to get shy about it.
Rikuto: "But before you wipe mine…"
He looked up at her seriously.
Rikuto: "You need to clean your own face first."
"A blood-spattered girl wiping someone's face—no matter how silver her hair is—feels way too much like something out of a horror story."
"Like I'm about to get hacked by a machete or something."
Rikuto muttered his complaint without thinking.
Truthfully, Emilia didn't look much better than him right now.
The stone knives they used for wilderness survival weren't exactly sharp, and Emilia had been crouched beside Rikuto the whole time, watching him work.
Whenever Rikuto sliced into the wolf, blood would splash—and both of them ended up getting sprayed repeatedly.
Emilia: "Machete?"
She tilted her head, puzzled.
In the soft glow of the bonfire, her blood-speckled face looked innocent and curious as she asked what the word meant.
Rikuto: "…"
"That's… really not a good word. You shouldn't say it."
He put on an exaggeratedly serious expression.
A blood-covered girl innocently asking about the word machete—just the thought sent shivers down his spine.
Especially since, in a one-on-one fight, he wasn't even sure he could beat her.
Emilia: "Okay…"
The silver-haired girl nodded, accepting his warning without further questioning.
She could tell Rikuto really didn't like that word.
Silence slowly settled back over the snowy clearing.
The fire crackled and roared, its flames dancing skyward.
Rikuto resumed his focused study of the wolf's internal structure, determined to level up his wolf-dissection proficiency to LV1.
Emilia, meanwhile, continued crouching beside him, chin resting on her hand, watching him work.
Before she met Rikuto, Emilia had never really understood the concept of beauty or ugliness.
She only knew that she herself was terrifying to others—frightening and unnatural.
But when it came to judging others, she didn't really grasp what made someone beautiful or not.
Yet right now, watching Rikuto work so seriously beneath the glow of the firelight—
She was certain: this was what people meant when they said someone looked good.
Rikuto, absorbed in his task, looked really, really good.
Crackle—snap—crackle—snap—
The fire burned on, pale smoke rising into the starless sky.
Watching him, a thought suddenly popped into Emilia's mind.
"I wonder what I look like to Rikuto right now… covered in blood like this."
Once the thought appeared, she couldn't suppress it. It sprouted roots and spread like wildfire inside her chest.
A strange nervousness gripped her heart.
Emilia stole a cautious glance at Rikuto, who was still bent over the wolf.
Then, quietly, she stood and circled around to the other side of the fire, staying out of his line of sight.
There, she whispered to the blue-colored lesser spirits, who formed a smooth pane of ice in front of her like a mirror.
Using the firelight, she gazed into her reflection.
There was dried blood on the corner of her mouth. Her long silver hair was streaked with crimson. Her pale yellow coat was dotted with specks of blood.
To most people, this version of Emilia would be striking.
Like a snowfield flower stained with a sudden splash of red.
The purity and stillness twisted by a vivid, dangerous hue.
The contrast was sharp, haunting, and beautiful—enough to make one's heart race.
But Emilia, of course, had no way of seeing herself the way others might.
Emilia: "So… is this pretty or ugly?"
She stared at her reflection, suddenly overcome with a strange kind of worry.
What she really meant was: Would Rikuto think I look pretty like this? Or… scary?
Emilia: "There's so much blood… it probably looks bad, right?"
She scrubbed at her face, trying to remove the dried stains.
But the blood had already begun to crust, and with her sleeves already dirtied, she only managed to smear it around more.
Emilia: "Rikuto already said he doesn't like blood on my face…"
She muttered in frustration and began rubbing harder.
The surrounding blue spirits must have sensed her distress, because they fluttered gently around her in a calming pattern.
Watching them, Emilia suddenly snapped back to her senses.
Using the spirits' help, she melted some snow from nearby trees to wash her face and sleeves.
Then she summoned a bit of fire magic to gently dry her damp clothes.