The young man still stood where he was.
His shoulders and back were tense, his breathing short and restrained—he was obviously nervous.
Yet both feet remained firmly planted on the ground, refusing to retreat even a single step.
His gaze stayed fixed ahead, pushing through the pressure Halvir had deliberately released.
He wanted to be noticed.
He wanted his existence to be acknowledged.
And that was where his courage lay.
“I know I came here out of nowhere.
I’ll leave now, but I’ll definitely come back,” the young man said.
His voice remained steady despite the dryness in his throat.
His chest rose and fell once before he continued with confidence that was almost challenging.
“Halvir, I’ll definitely earn your recognition!”
He lowered his head politely—a brief movement filled with respect—then turned around.
His steps were light yet firm as he left, carrying a pride he made no effort to hide.
Halvir did not immediately look away.
His gaze remained fixed on the reckless teenager’s back as the figure gradually disappeared into the distance.
His eyes were sharp, carrying the kind of pressure that usually made people shrink back.
Yet beneath that tension, the corner of his lips curved slightly upward.
Almost imperceptibly—but undeniably.
A faint gleam flashed in his eyes as well.
As an adult who had lived through countless battles and failures, Halvir knew exactly what he had just witnessed.
It was not mere empty courage, but raw potential that had yet to be refined—and it filled him with pride.
Not far away, several pairs of eyes secretly observed the scene.
They belonged to the same younger generation that admired Halvir, but they had chosen to remain hidden among the shadows of the trees and the sound of the river.
Their confidence had not yet grown enough to step forward.
Unlike the teenager who had just stood directly before Halvir despite being only a *Diamond-ranked Beast.
“He’s way too reckless…” one of them muttered quietly.
“How dare he approach Halvir while he’s with his woman?”
The small group stood along the riverbank.
Reflections dancing on the water revealed their expressions—tense, admiring, and jealous all at once.
With the sharp hearing typical of Beasts, they had caught every word of the conversation despite the distance and the constant murmur of flowing water.
“But he beat us to it.
And he’s younger than us…”
“That’s true.
I’m jealous of him too.”
“You’re praising him, so why didn’t you go after him earlier?!”
One of them looked away, his jaw tightening.
“I’m not ready to face Halvir yet.”
“So you’re admitting he’s got more guts than you do!”
A brief silence followed before the answer came, like a reluctant confession.
“What can I do?
That’s the truth…”
The group fell silent again before another voice spoke, calmer and heavier.
“Even if he got ahead of us, at least he made me want to be braver and try not to lose to him.”
To all of them, Halvir was not merely a famous name.
He was one of the village leaders, a warrior who had carved his reputation with blood and victory.
But more than that, he was known as an adult who never hesitated to guide others.
Someone whose existence had become both a benchmark and a destination.
And for those young people, the courage shown by one youth today had ignited something that would not be easily extinguished.
Anindira looked at Halvir, sensing something different.
Not only from Halvir—but from that young man as well.
There had been a faint vibration she could not explain, as though an invisible thread had briefly been pulled taut before being released again.
It wasn’t hostility.
It felt more like a silent acknowledgment understood only by the two of them.
Anindira had no idea what it meant.
But her instincts told her—it had not been an ordinary meeting.
“Your friend?” Anindira finally asked, resuming her meal as though trying to hide the sudden curiosity bubbling inside her.
“Who?” Halvir asked in return.
“Hm?!” Anindira frowned at that answer.
“The guy just now?!” she replied, her mouth still full and her words slightly muffled.
“No.”
“No?!” Anindira echoed, her eyebrows rising high.
“But I know him,” Halvir continued casually, as if it were unimportant.
Anindira stared at him in confusion.
Her gaze lingered several seconds longer than she realized.
“He likes you,” Halvir added casually.
Far too casually.
“HA?!” Anindira cried out in shock.
Her hand froze midair.
Even her chewing stopped.
She stared blankly at Halvir like someone who had just heard something completely absurd.
“He approached me to let me know that he intends to get close to you,” Halvir continued without changing his expression.
“Do you like him too?”
“Kak!” Anindira called out irritably.
Her face immediately turned red.
“I don’t know him…
We only just met…
We haven’t even talked!” she protested rapidly, one sentence tumbling after another.
“Besides, he was only looking at you.”
“Mm.”
Halvir gave a short nod, seemingly indifferent.
Yet the corner of his lips lifted slightly.
“It’s almost dark.
We’d better head home.”
The tone sounded normal.
Too normal.
Halvir quickly cleaned up the remaining food, washed his hands in the river, then without saying much, lifted Anindira into his arms and carried her home—as though that decision had already been final from the very beginning.
The campfire was left behind to die out slowly.
And without Anindira noticing, the faint smile on Halvir’s face remained for quite some time…
a small, quiet smile filled with triumph.
By the time they arrived home, night had fully fallen.
The forest outside was swallowed by dense darkness, leaving almost nothing visible except the faint sounds of the night.
After replacing the animal-fur sheets that covered the straw beneath, their sleeping area—which was actually quite large—suddenly felt much smaller once the two of them sat on it.
As they had done on previous days, Anindira sat on Halvir’s lap with her back against his chest.
Halvir wrapped his arms around her small body from behind, enclosing her shoulders in a firm yet calm embrace.
That kind of attention no longer made Anindira feel awkward.
Instead, it felt…
natural.
“Anindira,” Halvir called, opening their first conversation of the night.
“Dira, Kak,” Anindira replied while tilting her head toward him, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything in the darkness.
“Hm?” Halvir sounded puzzled.
That’s my special nickname back home,” Anindira explained with a small smile.
Her hand gently stroked the back of Halvir’s hand resting across her shoulder—a little habit she always had every night.
“You can call me that.”
“So that’s your special nickname?” Halvir asked.
“Yes.
My family always calls me that.”
“All right,” Halvir replied.
His eyes sparkled in the darkness.
“You want me to call you that too?” he added, his lips curving into a broad smile.
If Anindira could have seen him, she would have known just how happy Halvir was at that moment.
“Of course!” Anindira exclaimed with an enthusiastic nod.
Halvir and Anindira had grown accustomed to spending their days together alone, and nighttime somehow made that companionship feel even more exclusive.
The deep silence of the forest seemed to shut out everything beyond their small world.
“Dira,” Halvir called softly.
His chin now rested on her shoulder.
“You talked a lot with Hans.
You also called him Kak, just like you call me.”
“Yes?” Anindira replied, though uncertainty colored her voice.
“Is something wrong?” she asked carefully, remembering that she was now living in a different world.
“The two of you look about the same age as my older brother.”
Once again, Anindira tilted her head up to answer him.
Without realizing it, their faces were nearly touching.
Halvir froze in surprise.
His body instinctively stiffened, and warmth spread across his cheeks.
He suddenly felt awkward and flustered.
Anindira, however, noticed none of it.
“Do you like him?” Halvir asked.
The discomfort in his voice was unmistakable.
“Kak?!” Anindira exclaimed.
“I’m confused by you.
You’ve already asked questions like that twice today.
Why?” she asked innocently.
“You speak very easily with men,” Halvir replied, his voice heavy.
There was disappointment in it that he did not bother to hide.
Anindira had absolutely no idea that what she was hearing was jealousy—and that Halvir was displaying it quite openly.
“Kak, is something wrong?” Anindira frowned.
“I was only talking to them.
Is that not allowed?”
Neither Anindira nor Halvir truly understood each other’s concept of social interaction.
In this world, women always maintained boundaries.
Both men and women kept a safe distance when interacting with one another.
*Imprint—a phenomenon that was both beneficial and dangerous.
A supernatural bond that locked itself onto the subconscious and could never be completely controlled.
Both men and women instinctively protected themselves from being *Imprinted carelessly.
Because of that, many women chose to lower their heads when speaking to men.
It was also common for them to ignore men who tried to approach them if they felt no intention of building a relationship with them.
That was very different from the culture in which Anindira had been raised.
In her world, being friendly and greeting others—even complete strangers—was perfectly normal.
According to the unspoken rules she had grown up with, deliberately looking away or turning one’s face aside while speaking was considered rude.
And there, without either of them realizing it, two worlds governed by completely different rules had begun to rub against each other.