Return of the Legendary Runesmith - Chapter 443

Chapter 443: Chapter 442- What about Ruby?

Adrian and Ariana were currently lying on the bed, a thin sheet barely covering their bare bodies.

After their love-making session—which had stretched on for nearly four relentless hours—the two had taken a long, quiet bath before returning to bed, slipping under the sheets without bothering to wear anything. Their skin still carried the warmth of the water… and of each other.

Adrian softly ran his hand along her back, fingers tracing slow, idle paths as their warm bodies pressed together.

Ariana propped her chin on his chest, her hair spilling across his skin as she stared into his warm eyes.

“What?” he asked, his voice rumbling against her cheek, the sound tickling her skin.

She kept staring at him for a moment, studying him as though weighing something heavy in her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Have you thought about how you’ll break the news about Raven to Ruby? I mean, it was different with Annabelle—she’s directly connected to your past life. But Ruby… it isn’t the same for her.”

Adrian hummed thoughtfully. “You’re right. It will probably be difficult for Ruby to accept everything unless I explain it slowly and calmly.”

Ariana raised a brow. “What if she cries and runs away?”

Adrian smiled, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Did I let you run away?”

Ariana narrowed her eyes at him. “I went easy on you. Don’t expect the same mercy from her.”

Ruby was different from Ariana in every possible way. When it came to Adrian, she often hid her true feelings, sometimes even treating herself as a burden to him. But that only made her reactions unpredictable. Ariana knew Ruby’s temperament well—the girl was the true huntress among the Wardens. She had seen her mercilessly torture anyone who dared harm those she cared about. While Ariana was certain Ruby would never direct that fury toward Adrian, she knew Ruby’s response would be nothing like Annabelle’s calm acceptance.

Adrian chuckled and suddenly flipped her onto the bed, pulling her into his chest. His arm curled around her head, tucking her close as he murmured, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle things somehow.”

Ariana snorted softly. “Look at you—becoming a proper Casanova for real.”

Adrian’s smile deepened. “Well, I won’t deny it. I’m shamelessly trapping the four of you in my love. But I promise I’ll keep you all happy.”

“You better,” she mumbled, her lips brushing his skin. “Or I’ll bite you until you bleed.” And with that final threat—one he knew was only half a joke—she closed her eyes, snuggled even closer, and slowly drifted into slumber.

Adrian held her tighter, listening to her breathing soften, and allowed himself a small smile in the quiet dark.

….

Nearly in the middle of the night, Adrian slowly slid Ariana’s arm off his chest and rose from the bed, careful not to disturb her peaceful slumber.

He walked toward the wardrobe, the cool air brushing against his bare skin, and took out a black shirt along with a pair of fresh black trousers. As he slipped into the clothes, he quietly channeled mana through his fingertips, summoning several elemental birds that fluttered into existence around him—soft glimmers of color circling in the dim room. One water bird hovered over him and gently splashed, making his hair damp with a controlled burst.

With a flick of his wrist, he directed a wind bird to swirl around his head, drying his hair just enough to leave it slightly glossy—perfect to comb back neatly.

Once fully dressed, he applied a subtle perfume and glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the collar before turning toward Ariana again.

He had already told her he would be meeting Raven tonight and wouldn’t return until tomorrow evening.

Naturally, she had been slightly upset. But she hadn’t stopped him—not even once. She had simply accepted it with a quiet compromise that tugged faintly at his heart.

Adrian only hoped that one day Ariana and Raven could stand before each other, speak openly, and perhaps understand the truth from each other’s hearts. Only then, he believed, would the silver-haired woman fully grasp everything.

He reached into his bag, pulled out a small parchment, and scribbled a short note for her. After folding it neatly, he placed it on the bedside table beside her.

Taking one last lingering glance at Ariana—her hair scattered softly across the pillow, her breathing light and steady—he whispered to the system in his mind,

‘Initiate the World Transfer.’

….

His vision shifted—the familiar sensation of being pushed through a long, compressed passageway washed over him again, that gentle yet disorienting force pressing against his body. But this time he handled it far better, keeping himself steady and composed until the world finally settled around him and he appeared inside a familiar room.

He hadn’t informed Raven of his arrival, so naturally, the room was empty.

Without a word, he stepped outside, and almost immediately a maid spotted him.

“Ah—Sir Adrian!” she exclaimed, a bright smile blooming on her lips.

Adrian returned the smile politely before asking, “Where is she?”

The maid straightened. “She is in her workshop, but only Madeline is allowed to enter that room.”

Adrian’s brows lifted slightly. “Hmm? What does she do there?”

The maid shook her head. “I have no clue, Sir Adrian.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Where can I find Madeline?”

The maid glanced toward the reception area below before lifting her finger to point at a blonde woman standing near the counter. “There she is.”

Adrian followed her gaze, nodded, and made his way down the stairs. Once he reached her, he called out softly, “Madeline.”

The blonde woman turned and blinked, genuinely startled. “Sir Adrian? You didn’t inform us about your arrival. Ah—I will inform the Queen at once—”

She was already beginning to turn when Adrian placed his hands on her shoulders—gently, but firmly enough to halt her.

“Oh my,” he said with a light smile, “you will ruin the entire surprise that way, Madeline.”

The maid soon realised his plan and sheepishly smiled.

“I apologise for being so enthusiastic. I will lead you to her workshop.”

Adrian gave a small nod and followed her down the corridor.

By now, Adrian had become a familiar presence among the servants. He was well-liked, not because of his status, but because of what he had done for the city. The incident involving the Apostle had spread to every corner of the kingdom, and with it, the story of the man who stood beside their Queen. Naturally, the maids and servants had begun to regard him with genuine respect—respect for the man their Queen had chosen for herself.

Madeline walked through a short gallery lined with tall windows, sunlight spilling across the marble floor, before coming to a halt in front of a wooden door reinforced with brass hinges.

Adrian leaned closer and whispered, “Tell her you need to deliver a letter.”

Madeline suppressed a smile and straightened her posture before speaking in a louder, proper tone.

“Your Majesty, a letter has arrived addressed to you.”

There was a brief pause from within, followed by the soft scrape of a brush being set aside.

“Hmm? Bring it inside,” came the voice from beyond the door—calm, focused, yet unmistakably hers.

Adrian gently tapped Madeline on the shoulder. Understanding immediately, the maid gave a brief bow toward the door and quietly made her way back toward the reception hall, her footsteps fading down the corridor.

Adrian reached for the handle and slowly pushed the door open.

The scent of fresh paint instantly surrounded him.

It was thick and unmistakable, carrying with it the quiet intensity of long hours spent in solitude. The workshop was bathed in warm light, canvases leaning against nearly every wall. Some were stacked neatly, others left carelessly where they had been set down, as though the artist had forgotten the world beyond her work.

And on every canvas—

Adrian’s steps slowed.

Everywhere he looked, there were hand-drawn paintings of a single man.

The man in those paintings was none other than Avirin.

Some portraits were rough, sketched in quick strokes, capturing fleeting expressions. Others were painstakingly detailed—his gaze, the curve of his lips, the way his presence seemed to command the space even in stillness. In a few, he was smiling faintly. In others, his expression was distant, almost sorrowful.

Adrian felt a quiet weight settle in his chest as he took it all in.

This wasn’t admiration.

It was longing, preserved in paint.

His eyes then landed on Raven whose back was facing him.

The current picture she was working on was different.

Rather than Avirin, a certain familiar brown head was in the picture.

Adrian smiled as he approached her and hugged her from behind, “Missing me so much that you created a portrait of me?”

Raven was fairly surprised to hear his voice as she turned to look at him, “When did you arrive?”

Adrian smiled, “Just now. I missed you, Raven.”

The woman smiled as their lips connected without another word.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was here, a disaster had befell upon the Academy.