From Pawn to King: Ruling a Harem of Chaos
Chapter 191: The Empty Office, A Scolding Lady, and What Would You Do? (4)

Chapter 191: The Empty Office, A Scolding Lady, and What Would You Do? (4)

Lately, she felt she couldn’t face him properly, though she didn’t know why.

Something is definitely wrong with me!

It couldn’t possibly be because of his reward, could it? No way I’d feel happy over something like that!

She shook her head, frantically dismissing the thought. The more she dwelled on it, the more unsettled she became.

This isn’t like me at all.

Unwilling to think further, Violet threw herself into the task at hand—hunting down the goblin nest. She resolved to pour all her energy into this mission, reclaiming the top rank that was rightfully hers!

From the start of the exchange between Shia and Violet, Rong had been quietly standing to the side, observing. Watching Violet’s reactions—her agitation, her confusion—he seemed lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Shia was clearly slacking off.

Ambling leisurely in the midst of the group, he exuded a laid-back attitude.

No surprise there—he was practically useless in a fight for now.

The rest of the group had scattered to slay monsters and locate the nest, leaving Shia appearing quite idle.

He wasn’t the only one not engaged in combat, however. Sistine, the Saint of Swords, also refrained from taking action. Her role was to protect the safety of the novices and intervene only in emergencies.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sistine noticed Shia’s relaxed demeanor. Although uncertain, she gradually moved closer and eventually approached him.

"Junior, I have something to discuss with you," she said, her voice measured.

Shia stopped, his expression remaining warm and courteous. "What can I help you with, Senior?"

After a moment of contemplation, Sistine raised her head and responded.

"Regarding the question you asked earlier, I’ve decided. I still wish to pursue the pinnacle of swordsmanship through my own efforts."

"Relying on external aids is ultimately an illusion. Only achievements earned through my own hard work are truly mine."

With pursed lips, she finally summoned the courage to make her request.

"Therefore, I ask for your help in this matter!"

Having said her piece, Sistine solemnly bowed, her tone earnest despite her serene and holy demeanor.

At this moment, Shia was the only male she deemed trustworthy. Surely, he wouldn’t refuse her?

Sistine's thoughts swirled with unease as she awaited his response.

Shia smiled knowingly; her decision was no surprise to him. Given her relentless pursuit of swordsmanship, her choice was predictable.

"No problem. However, I hope Senior is mentally prepared for this journey."

Sistine lifted her head. Relief mingled with trepidation as she processed his agreement. Relief because Shia had consented to help, and trepidation because it meant she would have to interact closely with a boy—something she hadn’t done in years.

Her cold and aloof exterior cracked ever so slightly as a faint, adorable sound escaped her lips—a stark contrast to her usual image.

Her toes tapped lightly against the ground, and her grip on her sword tightened.

Being this close to a boy again—how long had it been? Years, at least.

Although she had resolved herself to this path, her mind betrayed her, conjuring all sorts of terrifying scenarios about interacting with the opposite sex.

Would he deceive her? Was his current demeanor just a façade, hiding darker intentions to humiliate her later?

These ridiculous, self-imagined fears swirled in her mind, making her complexion pale. Her resolve wavered.

Maybe… maybe I should back out now?

After all, we haven’t even started. It’s not too late to change my mind, right?

Sistine instinctively took a small step back. Just as she was about to retreat, Shia unexpectedly extended his hand.

He didn’t move closer, maintaining his warm, gentlemanly smile. His demeanor radiated a reassuring calm.

"Senior, since you’re determined to overcome your obstacles, how about starting with a simple handshake?" he suggested.

"A handshake is the most basic and reassuring form of contact, a gesture of mutual understanding and sincerity."

Shia waited patiently for her response.

True progress required tangible steps. Without action, she’d remain trapped in her self-made bubble of fear, forever paralyzed.

Sistine stared at his outstretched hand, stunned.

So sudden?!

She hadn’t even steeled herself yet, and now she was supposed to touch a boy?

Her anxiety spiked, making her hesitate.

Shia’s encouraging gaze lingered on her.

"Senior, be brave. It’s just a handshake—nothing to fear," he coaxed.

Sistine fixated on his hand, still unable to make up her mind.

"You mentioned wanting to overcome your struggles," Shia continued, his tone gentle but persuasive. "Surely, you wouldn’t want your swordsmanship to stagnate because of this?"

His words struck a nerve. Though laced with a subtle hint of manipulation, they rekindled her determination.

That’s right. If I don’t take this step, my progress in swordsmanship will never advance.

She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself, and slowly extended her delicate hand.

Her fingers, slender and elegant, trembled slightly as they reached out.

As Shia’s hand drew closer, her nerves flared again, conjuring another wave of fear.

Maybe… I should delay this? There’s always time to try again later, right?

Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, Shia closed the distance, gently clasping her fingers in his.

Her soft hand felt smooth yet firm from years of sword training, a juxtaposition of strength and femininity. The faint chill of her palm contrasted with his warm, steady grip.

Sistine instinctively tried to pull away, but his reassuring hold kept her in place. His hand was broad, enveloping hers securely.

Despite her initial panic, the warmth of his palm quickly eased her fears.

Nothing bad had happened.

His firm yet gentle touch was far from the terrifying scenarios her mind had concocted.

"See, Senior? This is fine," Shia said, his calm voice resonating in her ears.

Her gaze slowly lifted, tracing from their clasped hands to his composed face.

His expression hadn’t changed—still that polite, refined demeanor.

Looking at his handsome features and gentlemanly aura, she realized something: her fear was unfounded.

Shia noticed her tranquil state and, seeing she’d begun to accept the interaction, spoke to her in a soothing tone.

"Fear often exists only in our minds. Most of the time, we scare ourselves more than necessary."

"A handshake is just a handshake. It’s the simplest way to convey goodwill.”