High above Iberia.
Aboard the Rhodes Island aircraft.
Outcast idly toyed with a bullet on the table in front of her.
Across from her lay a white-haired girl, breathing soft and steady like a sleeping child.
As for Kal'tsit, ever since being snapped at by Steven, she had remained silent, sitting near the aircraft's pilot, gazing into the sky with a pensive expression.
Sure, she usually looked like this, but Outcast couldn't shake the feeling that today—she was in an especially bad mood.
And the one responsible for all this?
That Ægir boy who had been cooped up in the aircraft's private cabin for nearly twenty minutes now.
Even the Ægir girl who had come aboard with him had dozed off from the long wait—yet he still hadn't come out.
"Kal'tsit, you think he just used that as an excuse to slip away?"
Twirling the bullet between her fingers one last time before pocketing it, Outcast finally gave in to her curiosity and asked her superior.
"We are thousands of meters above the ground. If he wanted to leave, he would have done so long before this."
Kal'tsit finally turned her head and answered, her cold voice even frostier than usual.
That tone alone was enough for Outcast to tell—Steven had really pissed her off.
She had to admit—this was entertaining.
She had never seen this self-proclaimed all-knowing woman get so riled up before.
"Kal'tsit, I'm really curious—just how important is that boy to you?"
If she didn't already know for a fact that Kal'tsit had never shown any interest in romance, Outcast might have seriously wondered if Steven was her long-lost son or something.
Sure, Kal'tsit looked like a young girl—but Outcast knew better.
Back when she herself was just a teenager, Kal'tsit already looked exactly the same as she did now.
So honestly?
She wouldn't completely rule that possibility out.
"Kindly discard your useless speculations."
Kal'tsit shot her a sideways glance, voice as calm as ever.
She may not always be able to read Steven's mind—but when it came to this Sakota's thoughts, she could see right through her.
"He is not important to me—but to Rhodes Island. In fact, he may be crucial to this entire land."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Outcast was someone she trusted, at least to a degree.
So after a brief hesitation, she chose to explain.
Most of this was her own intuition—but after receiving a final message from Saint Carmen of Iberia, urging her to ensure Steven's safety, she had decided to trust her instincts.
After all, for someone like Carmen—who had endured the greatest disaster Iberia had ever seen—to show such deep concern over just one person…
That alone was enough to prove how unusual Steven really was.
"So you're just gonna keep letting him get away with it?"
Outcast shrugged.
"No offense, but that kid is actually pretty easy to talk to. Maybe if you just changed the way you speak to him, things wouldn't be so tense between you two?"
She nodded seriously, offering her earnest suggestion to her old friend.
Kal'tsit herself might not notice it, due to having grown used to this way of speaking, but Steven clearly wasn't the target audience for her communication style.
Being more direct with him would actually be better.
Kal'tsit, however, simply averted her gaze without responding to Outcast's suggestion.
Just as silence settled over the aircraft once again, the tightly shut cabin door finally swung open.
The heavy thud of footsteps made both Outcast and Kal'tsit instinctively furrow their brows. But when they turned their attention toward the source—what they saw was not the slightly lanky young man from earlier.
Instead, a towering giant stood before them, fully clad in hulking purple heavy armor.
Even more bizarre, this heavily armored behemoth wasn't wearing a metal helmet—but rather, an oversized pumpkin head that looked downright comical.
The visual contrast between the intimidating armor and the goofy pumpkin head was… jarring, to say the least.
"Sorry, it took a bit longer than expected. I spent too much time debating what kind of helmet would look best."
Steven's voice came from beneath the armor, confirming his identity to Outcast—he wasn't some Iberian heavy knight who had mysteriously snuck aboard the Rhodes Island aircraft.
But his next words?
They didn't just leave Outcast speechless—even Kal'tsit's hand, mid-sip of coffee, trembled slightly.
"So… Hey, Outcast, if you saw me in the street wearing this kind of outfit, would you grind your back if I grasped your ass?"
"…"
"No."
Outcast forced out a reply between gritted teeth, her wrinkled face contorting into an expression that was difficult to describe.
If she were a few decades younger, this would have been a blatant case of sexual harassment.
But at her age, she could only pray that she was misunderstanding.
"Uhh… That comes out as pseudo-sexual harassment, forget what I said, just tell me this—do I still give off that 'powerful' feeling like this?"
Still completely encased in armor, Steven raised a gauntleted hand to his head.
With a loud "pop"—like a bottle cap being pried off a beer—he lifted the ridiculous pumpkin helmet off his head, glancing toward the two women for confirmation.
Now that he had access to EE Mod, there was no way he'd keep running around completely unarmored.
After what happened with Kal'tsit and Carmen, Steven had already made up his mind—he needed gear that could suppress his overwhelming presence.
And naturally, the Netherite Armor was his best choice.
But there was one problem—that armor left his face exposed.
And Steven was deathly afraid that people would take one look at his ridiculously handsome face and lose all will to fight.
So in the end, he decided to cover his entire head with… something else.
"No. You just look… really dumb."
To Steven's surprise, the person who answered this time wasn't the angelic-looking old lady—but rather, the cat-eared girl beside her, staring at him with an equally unreadable expression.
Wait.
Did she… just say something that short?
Did the sun rise from the west today?