Mushoku Tensei: the Apostle of God

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Eris placed her hand on Allen's palm, her movements slightly stiff as she glanced at the surrounding crowd.

Allen smiled.

Despite Eris' usual brash demeanor, she was a girl with intense pride.

During their afternoon dance practice, she hadn't made a single mistake.

But that didn't stop her from tensing up in front of the crowd tonight.

The reason, however, was no longer the fear of making a mistake—as it might have been in the original story.

Instead, she feared she wouldn't be able to dance as perfectly as she had that afternoon.

Allen tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her firmly toward him.

A collective gasp rose from the nearby noble girls, most of them young, around Eris' age, dressed in elegant gowns with an air of youthful innocence. Why were they all so young? Because those even slightly older were already betrothed.

Yet, as their eyes trailed over Allen's figure, their gazes held a knowing glint.

They had been encouraged by their families to attend, but that didn't stop them from genuinely wanting to invite Allen for the next dance.

After all, no matter how you looked at it…

This was far from a "loss."

It wasn't every day they encountered such a refined, noble-like swordsman.

This was likely the norm for young noble girls in Asura's academy. If everyone had been so reserved, how could Paul have gotten up to so much mischief by the age of ten?

Eris inhaled sharply, then heard Allen's voice—steady, serious, and precise, just like during their sword training.

"If you're nervous—"

"I'm not!"

Allen chuckled.

The next moment, with that laughter still lingering, Eris felt her body lift slightly.

Instinctively, she stepped back, but Allen followed seamlessly.

Tap.

His foot landed perfectly on the beat as the music swelled.

"Too slow."

Eris' eyebrows shot up, her gaze flickering toward her feet.

"Don't look."

She jolted, lifting her chin, but the motion was smoothly disguised by Allen's guiding step, the momentum carrying her into a graceful slide.

Applause erupted around them.

"She dances so well!"

"Yes, her rhythm is perfect!"

Eris blinked, then heard Allen's voice again, low and close.

"Hear that? They're praising you. Want more?"

A spark lit up in her eyes.

"Yeah!"

From nearby, Sauros' booming voice rang out. "Dances well? Hah! That's nothing, nothing at all! Hahaha!" The usually stern lord of Boreas sounded like a tipsy old man after a few drinks.

Eris' expression stiffened slightly. Before tonight, her beloved grandfather had never seen her dance—only Hilda had witnessed her rehearsals.

Allen smiled.

"Where's your mother?"

Eris started to turn her head, but Allen's voice, woven into the music, reached her ears again.

"To your right. Follow your index finger—five meters."

As they moved, their steps shifting in sync, Allen's words flowed like rapid fire.

"Left, just past your sleeve—four meters."

"Right rear, behind your heel—five meters."

"Left rear, outside your foot—three meters."

With each direction, Eris' focus locked onto Hilda, who stood slightly off to the side, her expression a mix of fond exasperation and quiet happiness.

The crowd faded.

The noise dimmed.

Only the music, their footsteps, and her mother's gaze remained.

Even Allen's presence seemed to vanish from her perception.

Water God Style—Mind Flow.

But because Eris hadn't fully mastered it yet, Allen's voice still reached her through the void.

"See her now?"

"Yeah!"

"Then—"

A brief pause.

"Let's dance for her."

Eris grinned, her brows lifting confidently.

The sensation of practicing in her room every day surged back.

Eyes closed—

Then open!

The banquet hall's clamor rushed back in.

Figures reappeared at the edges of her vision.

But Eris only felt Hilda's eyes on her.

Her steps became natural, leading Allen effortlessly through the fox-trot her mother had taught her.

A proud, fiery joy burned in her movements.

Her hair swayed like dancing flames.

"Yeah!"

"Let's show Mom!"

——

"I heard the Boreas young lady was unruly, but she dances quite well."

"Not what I expected. Impressive."

"The one dancing with her is that guest from this afternoon, you know~"

"Ahh, he's so dashing. I wouldn't mind offering myself~"

"What are you saying? Your husband—"

"It's fine. He's scouting too."

"Hehe~ Then may I…?"

In a dimly lit corner of the banquet, Sylphiette's ears twitched, her face flushed.

She didn't want to listen to the indecent chatter of the noble trio beside her, but they spoke freely, assuming she was one of them.

After all, tonight, Sylphiette shone.

Dressed in a white gown that hugged her waist, her fair skin glowing under the chandeliers, she looked every bit the noble-raised half-elf.

She tore her gaze away from Lady Hilda and back to Allen, dancing with Eris in the center of the hall.

Her neck felt bare.

The reason she had avoided Allen today was simple.

Last night, after receiving that letter, she had cried, laughed, and rolled around her bed in joy—only to freeze in realization.

If she had gotten a letter from her teacher…

Then Allen must have too.

Which meant the necklace should have reached him as well.

Her teacher's words were clear—she was allowing Sylphiette to join her and Allen's "adventuring party."

And by telling her to believe in herself and try again…

Did that mean she had asked Allen to place the necklace around Sylphiette's neck himself?

Was this her teacher's way of giving her a chance to take the next step?

Sylphiette's head drooped, her cheeks burning as she stared at the half-heeled sandals Hilda had bought to match her dress.

Earlier, Hilda had said something similar:

"You're beautiful tonight, Roxy. Take that step—you're no less than your teacher."

Her heart pounded.

How… how do I take that step?

I don't know what to do…

Suddenly, a burst of applause and Sauros' booming voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head.

No. I can't think about this now!

Right now, she was the key.

Compared to stepping toward Allen, the priority was—

Abruptly, the noise around her dulled.

Then, murmurs rose.

"Ah! He's coming this way!"

"Really? For the first formal dance? How lucky~"

"Tch. You promised me—"

"Another time, Viscount Leyton~ Today's special~"

Sylphiette's breath hitched.

A strange premonition prickled at her.

She looked up.

And froze.

In her rose-tinted eyes stood a young man in a black tailcoat, effortlessly declining the advances of noble ladies as he strode forward.

From the brightly lit center of the hall, he walked steadily toward this dim corner.

Past the murmuring crowd.

Past the reaching hands.

Until he stood before her.

His eyes crinkled with a smile.

Even in the shadows, his gaze glowed—

Just like under the sunlight filtering through leaves on the hillside.

Just like under the soft moonlight in the snowy valley.

And now.

Here.

In the flickering banquet lights.

Allen Boreas Greyrat

Bowed.

Extended his hand.

A perfect Boreas-style invitation.

"Lady Sylphiette."

"May I have this dance?"

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