Gathering Wives with a System Chapter 428: Aftermath Of The Training, Isaac’s Mortal Enemy

Celia was buried under a pile of utter boredom. Given that her upcoming concert was drawing near, she really ought to have been far too preoccupied to even register the feeling. With a whirlwind of rehearsals, adjustments for her wardrobe, meticulous stage inspections, and relentless media engagements, the people surrounding her constanty reminded her that she was supposed to be consumed by her schedule.

However, the setting of the venue had been an overwhelming mix of noise and oppressive crowds earlier, with technicians and managers scurrying about as if a slightly misaligned spotlight signaled the end of the world. Thus, she had simply decided to vanish. Just as was her habit.

Surprisingly, she no longer felt a crushing dread regarding Vale. Previously, vanishing like this would have surely invited a grueling lecture. Yet, her own strength had flourished recently. She was certainly not superior to him, but she possessed enough power that she no longer felt like a mere child cowering behind closed doors.

Nevertheless, once she reached home, she faced a tiresome truth: there was absolutely nothing for her to do. Emily was currently occupied in another city, balancing the management of local matters while mastering a new bloodline skill. Alice, Isaac, Vale, and Professor Catherine were all away focusing on their training. Ruby, the City’s AI, had flatly denied her requests to record any more silly videos, citing strict instructions from Isaac.

Nearby in the garden, the Water Elemental Spirit hovered with a gaze fixed on the sunflowers, wearing an expression that seemed nearly affectionate. While Celia did not mind plants, she found it utterly baffling how anyone could derive pleasure from watching them for several hours.

"I am... so bored..." she murmured.

Collapsing into the sofa, she gazed at the ceiling, hoping it might spontaneously conjure some form of entertainment.

After a time, she remembered a mention from Vale before he had departed. Some youngsters from the Crawling Serpent tribe had been liberated from the Pit of Trials. Vale and the dragon maids had been tasked with their care. Celia had felt a spark of curiosity, but her own affairs had kept her from checking on them.

Her spirits lifted slightly. That adventure might serve to kill the time. She levered herself upward, forming a plan of what to say to the children, just as the front door swung wide.

Vale stepped inside. He was trailed by Alice and Isaac, with the Sword Empress bringing up the rear.

For a fleeting heartbeat, panic seized Celia, and her heart hammered against her ribs. Alarms blared in her mind. She had abandoned her rehearsal earlier than permitted. If they had discovered her lack of discipline—

She quickly straightened her posture, striving to project an air of normalcy.

Then, she locked eyes with Vale, and her breath stalled.

His aura had undergone a transformation. It felt significantly more oppressive, like a man who had weathered blood and flames and accepted them as everyday realities. Looking at him felt like encountering a predator that had just returned from a bloody hunt.

Startled, she retreated a step without even realizing she had done so.

Vale lifted his gaze as he sensed her movement. His eyes appeared hollow and drained of life, devoid of both malice and warmth.

Celia instinctively stepped back once more.

Vale remained indifferent to her trepidation. He strode past her and collapsed onto the parlor sofa, remaining silent. Isaac slumped onto the opposite piece of furniture, his limbs slack as if his very bones had surrendered. Alice navigated directly to the kitchen to fill a glass with water, consuming it in slow, steady drafts.

Celia’s throat went parched. She noted another shift. Alice had always possessed an intimidating presence, but now she felt fundamentally altered. It was as if she were a dragon that had finally grasped the art of carving through its foes to drench the landscape in red. Though her expression was vacant and her movements sluggish from fatigue, Celia sensed that a careless approach might result in genuine harm.

Isaac mirrored this shift; despite his obvious depletion, there was a sharpened edge beneath the exhaustion. What occurred during their training? Celia mused. They were supposed to be sharpening their skills, not returning as if they had survived months of brutal warfare.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to creep closer. "Brother, are you doing alright?" she inquired softly.

Vale offered no response. This non-reaction unsettled her more than the others; he had always doted on her and never ignored her in such a fashion.

"Celia, fetch them some water. They are spent," the Sword Empress commanded.

Celia offered a quick nod and hastened toward the kitchen. She filled two glasses, topped them off to ensure they were full, and carefully returned to the living room, presenting them to Vale and Isaac. Vale accepted his drink with a faint nod, and Isaac followed suit, draining his glass slowly before setting it aside.

Before Celia could inquire if they required more, Isaac’s hand lunged out, clamping firmly around her wrist. In a blur of motion, he pulled her into an embrace, and he leaned his forehead against her shoulder, inhaling as though he were drawing life energy directly from her.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Celia squeaked, her face heating up instantly. She glanced toward Vale in alarm. While doing intimate acts in front of others rarely troubled her, Vale was an entirely different sort of presence.

"Remove your hands from her," Vale grunted, not even bothering to glance in their direction.

"I am just recharging," Isaac muttered, his voice devoid of its usual playful lilt. He kept his grip firm.

Celia was left paralyzed. Vale did not press the issue, choosing instead to lean back and stare at the ceiling again, seemingly finding it more fascinating than their display. Alice emerged from the kitchen without so much as a sideways glance at them, finding a seat and closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the back of the sofa.

Celia’s mind was a muddled mess. Were these truly the same individuals she recognized? Vale was shutting her out, Isaac was being uncharacteristically tactile in public, and Alice seemed entirely indifferent to the surroundings. What kind of hellish training had warped them so drastically? she thought, casting a nervous look toward the Sword Empress.

The Sword Empress hovered calmly near the window, her posture impeccable. A ripples of mana manifested beside her, and Avery materialized in silence. The Water Elemental Spirit’s gaze scanned the three returnees.

"So, they successfully endured the Sword Maiden’s Hellish Training. I genuinely expected they might not return," Avery noted with a faint, wry smile.

The Sword Empress offered a small, annoyed frown. "...What manner of tall tales have you been circulating about me?"

"Would you truly like to know?" Avery replied, her smirk widening.

"...Never mind," the Sword Empress sighed.

Avery continued to linger on Vale, then shifted her gaze to Alice and Isaac. "I must admit, they have grown significantly more formidable. It is as if they are entirely separate beings now."

"Mhm," the Sword Empress agreed with a curt nod.

"How was their performance?" Avery inquired. "I've heard stories that even the Sword God could not sustain your Hellish Training and sought every available opportunity to flee."

The Sword Empress studied the three exhausted figures with a measured look. "They performed adequately."

Avery arched a brow. "Adequately? That carries significant weight coming from you. Your previous disciples have told me you almost never deign to use that specific evaluation."

The Sword Empress remained stoic for a beat. "These three are anomalies. Their latent talent is remarkably vast, and their willpower even more so. Not one of them attempted to abscond. Not even once," she conceded. "And do not use the Sword God as a benchmark. That brat possessed talent, but lacked the necessary discipline."

Avery chuckled, noting this detail for later.

"I also performed some diagnostics," the Sword Empress added, her voice lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. "I suspect that Vale may possess the direct lineage of one of the Seven Great Devils."

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Avery’s expression hardened, her smile vanishing.

"Does that imply that Celia might be..." the Sword Empress ventured.

Celia felt Isaac’s grip tighten fractionally, although she doubted he was coherent enough to follow the conversation. Avery eyed Celia before returning her gaze to the Sword Empress.

"You are revealing this to me because you require me to guard them?" Avery asked with cold composure.

"Indeed," the Sword Empress stated without hesitation. "I remain preoccupied with my Overlord-rank Quest. Until that is concluded, you must act as their shield. If my assessment of Vale and Celia is correct, the situation will become dire the moment the Grim Reapers locate them."

At the mention of that name, the very air seemed to thicken with dread. Avery showed no outward cowardice, but her demeanor grew grave. "I understand. I shall maintain a vigil. Should there be any disturbance, I will neutralize it before it reaches this dwelling."

"That is all I ask," the Sword Empress said quietly.

As the evening drew long, Isaac remained reclined against the dining table, his lids heavy. Alice had claimed the floor mat beside him, her head pillowed on his leg while he mindlessly threaded his fingers through her locks. Neither had the stamina for sustained conversation.

They had finally been granted a reprieve after three months. Three months deprived of consistent rest. Now that the opportunity was available, their bodies seemed to have discarded the memory of how to yield to sleep. They lingered in the silence, waiting for exhaustion to eventually claim them.

On his other side, Catherine rested against his shoulder, having succumbed to sleep almost instantly. Her breathing remained rhythmic and hushed.

Eight o'clock chimed. The door opened and Celia entered, appearing somewhat less distressed than before. Shortly after, Emily followed, dusty from her administrative efforts in the other city.

Isaac shifted his eyes to her and provided a sluggish nod. Emily froze when she beheld the group. "What has occurred?" she asked, her voice tight with panic. She scanned Isaac, Alice, and Catherine with deep concern. "Why do you all look in such a state? Are you suffering from injuries?"

"We are fine," Isaac croaked.

"You do not seem fine. You look as though you haven't closed your eyes in weeks."

"That is because we haven't," Alice mumbled, eyes remaining firmly shut.

Emily stared at them, horrified. Isaac breathed a heavy sigh. "We are merely beat from training. There is nothing to fear; we just require rest."

She folded her arms rigidly. "No training should leave you looking like you have risen from the grave."

"It was that specific brand of training," Isaac said with a grimace. He secretly swore to himself that he would rather perish than endure that [bat] again. He finally grasped why Catherine reacted so viscerally to its presence. He began plotting if he could potentially eliminate that [bat], which had securely positioned itself as his nemesis.

Following several more inquiries and assurances, Emily finally let out a breath and loosened her stance.

"Fine. But I shall prepare dinner. Alice, you ought to be resting," she declared as she ventured toward the kitchen.

"You should also seek rest," the Sword Empress’ voice echoed from behind her. "You have spent the entire day managing the affairs of your city. I shall handle the cooking."

Emily checked her pace. "It is unnecessary. I am quite capable."

"I insist," the Sword Empress stated in a tone that rendered further argument futile.

Emily faltered, then conceded with a brief nod. "Very well. But permit me to assist you."

Just then, Selene entered in silence. Her demeanor was clouded with worry, her gaze seemingly fixed on some distant horizon. She wore the look of one preparing to embark on a journey from which there was no certainty of return.

Isaac processed this immediately. It appears she lacks faith in her ability to complete that Quest, he realized. He let out a soft sigh but held his tongue.

Selene noticed the prevailing somber atmosphere and quickly plastered a smile on her face. "You have returned. How was the training?" she asked, though her voice sounded strained to her own ears.

"It was incredible. I sincerely wish all my adversaries could experience such training," Isaac replied.

Selene chuckled at the odd remark, finding a shred of humor in the absurdity. She proceeded toward the kitchen to lend a hand, and for a short time, the house buzzed with the mundane comforts of domestic life. Silverware clinked against china. Water flowed. Muffled laughter erupted at a comment from Celia.

Dinner was served shortly thereafter. Everyone gathered around the table. The meal was simple but comforting, and for a brief window, no one spoke of training, Grim Reapers, or complex Quests. They simply ate. Catherine stirred mid-meal, batting at her plate with sleepy, glazed eyes before Isaac helped feed her. It was a rare, vulnerable display from her.

Once dinner concluded, the chairs scraped against the floor as the group dispersed. Isaac remained in his seat. Selene made to rise when he called out, "Selene."

She paused and met his gaze. "Remain here for a moment," he said.

Her white-knuckled grip on the back of her chair deepened before she sank back into her seat. The others sensed the change in the room’s atmosphere and fell mute. Isaac leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the tabletop. Despite his exhaustion, his eyes were penetrating and clear.

"You are intending to depart soon, are you not?" he asked.

Selene attempted to force a smile. "It is a Quest. I truly lack any alternatives."