After comforting Garona, Alaric finally returned to his tent, ready to rest after a long and exhausting day.
However, just as he stepped inside, an unexpected voice greeted him.
"Finally back, little Lief. First, my sister, and now that little green-skinned girl... You're quite the popular one, huh? Looks like my decision was correct—better to strike first, or I'll miss my chance."
It was Sylvanas's voice.
Alaric casually cast a Light spell, illuminating the scene before him. On his bed lay a graceful, athletic, and wild-looking high elf woman, clad in thin, lightly armored undergarments that offered little defense.
She was lying in wait for him, her gaze fixed on him with an eerie calm.
Who else but Sylvanas would dare to assassinate the army's commander in the dead of night?
Staring at the lightly dressed, picturesque ranger before him, Alaric's highly developed archmage brain momentarily crashed.
Before he could even process what was happening, Sylvanas revealed her predatory side as a ranger.
Like a mother panther, she sprang up nimbly, pouncing on the "poor" human mage, pinning him down on the bed in an instant.
Then, with a mischievous giggle, she clumsily sealed the human mage's lips in a reckless attempt to prevent him from chanting a spell.
"Mmph... What should I do next?" Despite her outward confidence, Sylvanas's movements were surprisingly amateurish.
Especially when it came to breaking through defenses—rangers specialized in striking fatal weak points, not brute-force armor penetration. She had never tried such an approach before.
Was this truly the legendary Queen's first attempt at a night raid?
Looking at the high elf before him—who, in another world, would later be widely known among players as their "Queen"—Alaric found her current behavior undeniably adorable.
So adorable that he wanted to laugh.
With great effort, Alaric held back his laughter, as well as the sarcastic remark bubbling up inside him: "Like sister, like sister. Your first moves are almost identical."
Gathering his strength, he swiftly flipped their positions, reversing the assault.
Last time, he had accidentally let the elder sister take the lead. But this time, facing the younger sister, he swore not to show weakness.
Alleria had been different—she wasn't particularly dominant and had been too intoxicated to put up a fight.
As for Sylvanas...
If he didn't properly subdue her now, who knew what kind of trouble her queenly pride would bring in the future?
With that thought in mind, Alaric pressed his knee against her legs, pinned her shoulder down with one hand, and immediately launched his own "armor-piercing" move, utterly dismantling what little defense she had left.
"Didn't expect it, huh? Little Lief may be young, but he's got quite the temper." Sylvanas smirked coldly. "But remember, you're a mage, and I'm a ranger. Let's see who truly comes out on top tonight."
Then, as if to set the rules, she added, "No magic allowed."
That nearly made Alaric burst out laughing again. He almost lost his grip on the ranger.
Seeing the amusement in the mage's eyes, Sylvanas glared at him in embarrassment and frustration.
She would never admit that Alaric's archery skills, demonstrated in his contest with Lor'themar, had genuinely unsettled her.
Thus, the duel began.
A mage and a ranger—a cloth-wearer and a light-armored fighter—engaged in a close-quarters battle.
As the fight escalated, they discarded their armor and weapons entirely, resorting to pure hand-to-hand combat.
Unexpectedly, the mage—who, by logic, should have been physically weaker—dominated the fight, making the ranger yelp in pain repeatedly until, in the end, she had to beg for mercy.
Only when she verbally admitted defeat did the mage finally let her go.
Yet, despite conceding, the ranger still had complaints.
"So tell me... Why are you so damn skilled at this?" Sylvanas's familiar question made Alaric's eye twitch. Thankfully, her next words didn't involve time travel.
"I knew it... My sister got to you first, didn't she?"
Sylvanas, usually so strong-willed, now curled up in Alaric's arms like a little girl, grumbling softly.
Alaric could only laugh awkwardly and brush it off. It wasn't that he was afraid to admit anything, but only an idiot would voluntarily confess his past romantic escapades in this situation.
"So, what do we do now? My sister... and me..." Seeing Alaric remain silent, Sylvanas took it as tacit confirmation and continued in a small voice.
"I don't want to lose to my sister, but she met you first, and she loves you so much. I've never seen her care about anyone like this before... If you leave her, she'll be heartbroken."
"And what about you?" Alaric asked. "If I leave, wouldn't you be heartbroken too?"
"Me? Heartbroken? Pfft." Sylvanas turned her head away with feigned nonchalance. "You're just my little brother.
If I set my sights on something, I take it a step further. Tonight, I was just acting on impulse, so you should feel lucky—this was a one-time opportunity."
Rather than angering him, her words only made Alaric chuckle helplessly.
"Oh? Is that so? Are you sure?" Alaric wrapped his arms around her from behind, trapping her within his embrace.
"If that's the case, why were your movements so stiff? According to you, you should be more experienced than me."
"T-That's just because it's been a long time, so I was a little rusty," Sylvanas stubbornly insisted.
"Still won't admit it?" Alaric leaned in closer, increasing the pressure. "I was paying close attention just now. That unmistakable feeling... Just admit it. This was your first time, wasn't it?"
"So what if it was?" Sylvanas pursed her lips. "I was just using you as practice. You were nothing more than a training tool for me."
"Sure, sure. I'm just your training tool..." Alaric sighed, giving up on arguing with this stubborn elf.
"But listen carefully—I'm telling you now, from here on out, you can only train with me. No 'practicing' with anyone else, got it?"
"Hmph! Like I'd listen to you!" Sylvanas huffed.
"Oh, you will listen," Alaric tightened his embrace, making his stance clear.
At last, Sylvanas understood the depth of his intentions. She sighed deeply, turned around in the darkness, and gazed into his arcane-glowing eyes.
"So, my sister and I... What happens between the three of us now? Can you tell me?"
Her weak, uncertain words made Alaric realize that, despite being the formidable Banshee Queen in another timeline, in matters of love, she was just a vulnerable girl.
So he held her tightly and spoke firmly, "No matter what, as long as the three of us are happy, that's all that matters. I don't care about what others think. What's important is that we are happy together."
Hearing his words, Sylvanas smiled. Whether it was out of amusement or genuine happiness, Alaric didn't know.
But he didn't care. He continued, "Once someone reaches a certain level, worldly laws and morals lose their meaning—simply because there are too few equals to form a society. That threshold can be power, or longevity... And for me, I have both."
His words seemed to steady Sylvanas's wavering heart.
With a soft sigh, she murmured, "Perhaps."
It was both self-consolation and hopeful anticipation.
Then, snuggling closer to the mage beside her, she drifted into sleep.
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