Personality

Olifendo.

Inside the manor.

"You're back, Xia Lun?" Aina gently stroked Xia Lun's cheek, her eyes filled with an unmelting tenderness. "Did you gain anything?"

"Mhm... it felt pretty good." Feeling the warmth of Aina's fingertips, Xia Lun nodded.

True combat was obviously much more effective than ordinary training. Although he hadn't encountered any truly difficult situations, Xia Lun still remained highly vigilant and went all out.

Regardless, it was better than nothing.

Completely clean. There was no suspicious, fishy scent lingering in the air either.

It seemed Aina hadn't been sneaking any bites.

"What are you thinking about?" Aina chided playfully, scratching Xia Lun's chest with a force as light as a brushing feather.

"I'm thinking about you, of course," Xia Lun said with a serious face and an open gaze.

"Hmph!" Aina suddenly turned her head away, letting out a deliberately drawn-out, coy snort. "Even if you say things like that, I... I won't be happy!"

Xia Lun blinked. "What's this?"

Aina: "I learned it from a book."

"What book?"

"The Hero and the Seven Witches. The second witch to appear, the Frost Witch, has this exact personality. She has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. She clearly likes that blockhead hero more than anyone else, yet she insists on putting on a face of disgust..." Aina counted on her fingers, detailing, "Actually, my favorite is the first one, the Dawn Witch. She's obedient, well-behaved, beautiful, kind, elegant, and generous. She's exactly like me..."

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Regarding Aina's hobby of reading fan fiction where she was the main character, Xia Lun still found it hard to understand and felt a subtle trace of awkwardness.

Especially since many of them were harem novels.

"Don't you feel offended? Aina, you are my wife."

"They are all fictional stories, Xia Lun. Because I know that in the real world, your heart belongs only to me, and no one can steal it away... I'm not that petty, and besides, those stories are actually quite interesting to read."

Aina suddenly lifted Xia Lun's chin again. "Man, what kind do you like? ...Ah, by the way, this is the personality of the third witch, the Explosion Witch."

Xia Lun: ...

"Oh, ignoring me, are you? Are you playing hard to get?" Aina deliberately raised her eyebrows, carrying a rather domineering aura as her burning gaze locked onto him. "Interesting man..."

Xia Lun kissed Aina's lips. That deliberately constructed aura instantly melted away. Aina only had time to let out a short, sweet moan before her true colors were immediately revealed.

"No matter what you become, I like it all... but of course, my favorite is your true, original self."

"What an expected answer..." Aina panted slightly, her cheeks flushed red. Her small tongue gently licked her slightly moist lips from the kiss, her eyes hazy and carrying a trace of playful reproach.

"What, have I become a boring man?" Xia Lun narrowed his eyes, his fingertips twirling a strand of her soft hair.

"Yes, but I've known that for a long time. You've always been a boring man." Aina snorted softly. "You were like that in the past, too. Rigid, stubborn, clinging to boring justice... Even though you're young, you're already a hopeless old antique."

"Hmm, is that so?" Xia Lun touched his nose.

"But, even so, I like you the best." Aina's warm lips took the initiative to press against Xia Lun's earlobe, murmuring with a breathy, moist voice that was almost seductive.

The fire in Xia Lun's heart slowly began to rise.

Not just the fire in his heart, but the fire on his body also rapidly flared up.

"Ah, the clothes I just put on..." Xia Lun couldn't help but say as he watched his clothes turn to ash from tiny golden flames.

Aina proudly raised her delicate chin. "Hmph, I told you you were a stubborn, traditional old man, and you didn't believe me... Who told you clothes are only meant to be worn?"

Xia Lun also knew clothes could have other uses.

But they probably weren't meant to be burned.

"Xia Lun..." Aina had already fallen lazily onto the soft, large bed. Her hands were submissively raised above her head, her slender wrists seemingly bound together by an invisible ribbon. She was brimming with a silent invitation and anticipation, looking entirely ready to be taken.

There were clearly more important matters at hand right now.

...

Dusk. The sky was gradually darkening, and the distant clouds blurred the boundary between day and night.

Andor finished a busy day and prepared to return to his dormitory to rest.

To call it busy was quite a stretch. His work at Olifendo was so leisurely it felt like a vacation to him.

In his youth, he had been one of the most outstanding geniuses of the giant race. Possessing terrifyingly monstrous strength and rich combat experience, he was a natural-born warrior who was invincible in battle.

However, the long years had eventually caused that peak strength to quietly slip away, leaving behind accumulated wisdom and a sigh of inadequacy. Ultimately, he chose to settle down and seek a bit of peace.

Olifendo offered a rather good salary, and... he could eat his fill at every meal.

A giant's appetite was not something ordinary people could compare to. Andor could eat nearly a hundred people's worth of food in a single meal.

Giants could usually live to be four or five hundred years old. Compared to humans, they were quite long-lived, but compared to long-living species like elves, it was nothing.

And Andor was already nearly six hundred years old, yet his body remained as sturdy as cast bronze. This vitality, far exceeding that of his kin, was perhaps thanks to Olifendo's uncompromisingly healthy diet.

Andor picked up his broom, planning to return to his house.

It was a massive shed, and inside were many custom-made pieces of furniture suited to his size... Olifendo really had put a lot of thought into it. This was also the reason why he was willing to peacefully guard this academy for nearly a hundred years.

There was a saying circulating in the academy: Principals come and go, but the gatekeeper is made of iron. Andor had indeed outlasted quite a few principals.

Sweeping was not Andor's actual job, but he was truly too idle. Absolutely no one dared to come here and cause trouble... He felt a bit embarrassed taking this salary, so he found some work for himself to do.

Andor's relationship with the students was also quite good. After all, his towering figure provided them with a full sense of security.

Andor narrowed his eyes. He still remembered what that little guy Wolund looked like when he first enrolled. Now, he was already the principal... Time really flew by.

Every so often, that guy would unfailingly go out on a trip, claiming he was going to the snowy plains to visit the elders in his family... To bribe him for this, he had sent over quite a lot of good wine.

In recent years, however, Wolund hadn't been going out.

Perhaps that elder had passed away.

Andor shook his head with some regret.

But Wolund would still occasionally send over fine wine.

Andor smacked his lips, pondering over opening a barrel after going back tonight.