Evelyn spoke softly,"I've met many magicians, and in times of danger, most only know how to use their companions as shields. You're the first one I've seen willing to risk your life for a stranger."

  "Because they are my family," Ryan replied, his words growing more absurd as he locked his gaze firmly on Evelyn.

  He knew this was the perfect moment to reach the softest part of her heart. According to the memories passed down from the Grimoire, Evelyn had never experienced true emotional connection. Her time at the academy had only taught her the law of survival among the strong.

  "Family?" A faint, self-mocking smile curved Evelyn's lips.

  "I've never felt that before. Perhaps I never will." Her magic faltered slightly as images of Glacial Arcana Academy rose in her mind.

  The Headmistress had taught her to control ice magic but had never given her an ounce of warmth. Whenever she made a mistake in her studies, what awaited her was not comfort but harsh reprimand and punishment.

  Yet Evelyn did not hate the Headmistress. If the woman hadn't picked her up from the frozen plains of the North, she would have become a monster's meal long ago, and there would have been no future as a Grand Magus.

  Still, their relationship had always been that of teacher and apprentice—it had never carried the warmth of family.

  Ryan caught the fleeting vulnerability in her eyes and pressed on while the moment lingered."Then would you like to become my family?"

  Evelyn froze instantly, as though she hadn't quite processed what he had said.

  After a few seconds, she came to herself, quickly withdrawing her hand from Ryan's chest. Her tone returned to its usual coldness."Your magical energy has stabilized. The rest will recover naturally."

  She deliberately avoided answering the question. Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the hem of her robe. The suggestion had been too sudden, leaving her momentarily at a loss.

  After living tens of thousands of years, she had grown used to solitude and had never considered forming a bond like that with anyone.

  【Why did you always want to kill her before?】

  The voice of the Grimoire echoed in Ryan's mind, full of curiosity.

  【You're so good at emotional manipulation now. Why were you so obsessed with killing Evelyn before?】

  Ryan ignored the Grimoire's sarcasm and simply nodded to Evelyn."Thank you for your help."

  He was about to get up when his gaze fell on a bowl of meat soup sitting on the wooden table beside the bed.

  "The chance is here," he thought with quiet delight. He deliberately pretended to lose strength as he tried to rise, collapsing back onto the bed with a pained frown.

  Evelyn immediately reached out, grasping his arm to help him sit upright."What's wrong?"

  "I'm hungry." Ryan lifted his head, his eyes showing a hint of pitiful weakness.

  Seeing that Evelyn merely stood there without moving, he subtly hinted—he couldn't let the act lose momentum now.

  Evelyn gave a quiet hum in response but still didn't move.

  Ryan cursed silently in his heart: Come on, bring over the soup already! Outwardly, however, he kept up the frail expression and said nothing.

  Fortunately, Evelyn soon understood. She turned to the wooden table, picked up the bowl of meat soup, and grabbed the wooden spoon beside it. Handing it to Ryan, she said,"Eat. It will help you regain your strength."

  Ryan could only lift his hand shakily, his fingertips trembling as they reached weakly toward the bowl in Evelyn's hand. The movement was so feeble that it looked as if a light touch on the rim would send the whole bowl of soup crashing to the floor.

  He deliberately exaggerated the exhaustion caused by magical overuse, even letting his arm tremble slightly, appearing so fragile that he seemed on the verge of collapse.

  Evelyn frowned."I'll call one of the villagers to help you."

  She turned toward the door as she spoke. Back at Glacial Arcana Academy, she had never taken care of anyone. Confronted with Ryan's pitiful state, her first instinct was to seek help elsewhere.

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  "Wait!" Ryan called out quickly."It's too late now. The villagers must already be asleep."

  His voice grew weaker, carrying a faint note of loneliness that was easy to miss."Forget it, it doesn't matter if I don't eat."

  Evelyn didn't think much of it. Seeing him give up, she didn't insist further and turned to place the bowl back on the wooden table.

  Ryan kept a look of disappointment on his face, but inside, his thoughts were in complete turmoil. You really didn't feed me?

  Not even a word to persuade me? Didn't Glacial Arcana Academy teach you that when a man says he doesn't want something, he often means the opposite?

  Evelyn seemed oblivious to his inner grumbling. Her tone remained calm."You can take the bed tonight. I'll sleep on the floor."

  At the moment, she was only a Sixth-tier Magic Apprentice, and she had spent much of her energy earlier stabilizing Ryan's magic source. She truly needed rest, though she refused to keep the only bed for herself.

  Ryan closed his eyes. He had no energy left to continue the act; he needed to recover first and wait for another chance later that night.

  Seeing no response from him, Evelyn quietly gathered some dry grass in the corner, sat down against the wall, and closed her eyes to rest.

  As a Sixth-tier Magic Apprentice, she couldn't stay awake for long stretches without sleep. The repeated use of the ultimate ice sword during the day had already drained her. Fatigue soon enveloped her, and her breathing steadied into a calm rhythm.

  The cabin fell silent. Ryan slowly opened his eyes, listening to Evelyn's even breathing—only for his stomach to growl at the worst possible moment.

  This time, it was real hunger. The magical energy he had burned through during the day could only be fully restored with food.

  He hesitated for a moment but decided to keep up the act. If he got up normally now to fetch the soup, all his earlier performance would be wasted, and Evelyn would immediately realize he had been faking weakness.

  After thinking it over, he concluded there was only one way—to make it look like an accident. He would roll off the bed, make enough noise to wake her, and let her come to his aid.

  Ryan took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. Pain is temporary. Success is worth it.

  He suddenly rolled over and fell straight off the bed, hitting the floor hard. His back slammed against the wooden boards, and the sharp pain made him grit his teeth.

  The color that had returned to his cheeks drained again, replaced by a faint bluish-red mark—this time from genuine pain.

  He endured it, using the momentum to roll toward the wooden table. His elbows and knees knocked against the floor with soft thuds as he dragged himself forward.

  The sound was enough to wake Evelyn. Her eyes snapped open instantly, her hand instinctively reaching for the sword at her waist as she scanned the room warily.

  When she saw what was happening, her movements paused. Ryan was sprawled on the ground, inching his way toward the wooden table.

  His posture was clumsy and pitiful, his fingers still stretching stubbornly in the direction of the bowl of soup.

  Ryan had noticed the moment Evelyn woke but deliberately pretended not to. He kept crawling weakly, making each movement look painfully difficult, even forcing out two deliberate coughs.

  Ryan crawled only a few steps before deliberately collapsing onto the floor, his arms hanging weakly at his sides.

  He was gambling—gambling that Evelyn would soften and come to help him. If he lost, he could always spend the night on the floor, though the gnawing hunger in his stomach was becoming unbearable.

  Silence filled the cabin for several seconds before the faint sound of footsteps broke through.

  Evelyn, after all, rose and walked to his side. She bent down carefully and helped him up, her movements gentler than before, and guided Ryan back onto the bed.

  Ryan quietly savored the nearness of her presence, a faint warmth rising in his chest. Such closeness—something so ordinary—had been unthinkable during the eight lifetimes he had spent running from her relentless pursuit.

  "Do you want that bowl of soup?" Evelyn asked, standing by the bed.

  Her tone was calm. Compared to their earlier tense encounters, this conversation sounded almost like that between companions.

  "I'm hungry." Ryan softened his voice on purpose, adding a hint of pitiful weakness to it.

  Evelyn glanced at the bowl of soup on the table and frowned slightly."It's cold now."

  "It's fine," Ryan shook his head."I've eaten frozen black bread before. A bit of cold soup is nothing. I really am hungry."

  Looking into his tired, longing eyes, Evelyn hesitated briefly before finally turning back to the table and picking up the bowl.

  "I can't hold it," Ryan murmured as he raised his arm halfway, only to let it drop limply again, as if he didn't even have the strength to lift a bowl.

  "Open your mouth," Evelyn said as she knelt beside the bed, scooped up a spoonful of soup, and brought it to his lips.

  Ryan's heart leapt—he knew he had finally made real progress.

  He obediently opened his mouth, letting the warm broth slide down his throat, soothing the hunger burning in his stomach. This time, he wasn't pretending. Every swallow was genuine; he truly was starving.

  He opened his mouth again, cooperating as Evelyn fed him spoonful after spoonful. His eyes drifted to her face without him realizing.

  Moonlight streamed through the window, tracing her delicate jawline. Her long lashes quivered faintly as she focused on her task, her expression calm yet strikingly gentle.

  A memory from his past lives surfaced. In those lifetimes, Evelyn had chased him with the ultimate ice sword in hand, her eyes cold as frost, their every meeting ending in blood and death.

  Now, that same woman knelt beside him, patiently feeding him soup. The contrast stirred something deep and complicated in his heart.

  In truth, he had already felt something for her during those hunts—not only because of her beauty but also for her unshakable dedication to magic and her unwavering pursuit of strength.

  Yet back then, he had been both arrogant and weak, hiding his feelings behind hostility, until they were doomed to stand on opposite sides forever.

  "Does it look good?" Evelyn's voice broke his reverie just as she lifted the final spoonful of soup to his lips.

  "It looks good," Ryan blurted out instinctively, only to meet Evelyn's cool, unreadable gaze.

  He quickly looked away, trying to cover his embarrassment."I'm… a bit tired. I should sleep."

  Reaching out for the blanket beside him, his hand met empty space. Only then did he remember—there was just one bed in the cabin.

  His hand froze awkwardly midair, and an uneasy silence settled between them.

  "Good night." Ryan gave a forced laugh, then shut his eyes and pretended to fall asleep, slowing his breathing deliberately, terrified she might notice his discomfort.