Gunmage-Chapter 221: Blind Judges

Xhi is here?!

Although shocked, he didn’t say the words aloud—there were too many ears in the room. Mainly Selaphiel the elf and her companion, Jahira.

He wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if they crossed paths with the enigmatic priestess, and frankly, he didn’t want to find out.

Instead, he made his astonishment noticeable to only Lyra.

"She is here? Since when?"

Lugh’s tone was deliberately ambiguous, just in case they were being listened to. He hadn’t forgotten that Selaphiel’s awakened ability had something to do with sound manipulation.

"Yeah"

She responded casually.

"I see."

A silence stretched between them. Lugh, now realizing they were still entangled in an awkward embrace under the eyes of many, tried to break free—subtly at first, then with a bit more effort.

But Lyra, for some reason, didn’t let him go. Her voice returned to normalcy, now audible to anyone paying attention.

"Now, now, it’s been so long. Why don’t we have a dance to celebrate?"

Lugh summoned his strength, a pulse of energy surging through his limbs, and finally broke free from her grip. He straightened his clothes and replied coldly.

"I’m not here to dance. I’m here to watch blood get spilled."

"Whose blood?"

"Take a guess."

"Haa..."

Lyra sighed, her gaze drifting across his new appearance. Her expression shifted subtly before she asked, with a touch of mischief,

"Come to think of it, did you get... shorter?"

"Did you get fatter?"

"Fool! I was never fat!"

"Uh... excuse me,"

Someone interrupted.

Both of their gazes snapped to the speaker.

It was Selaphiel.

Not the elf—but the oldest daughter of Isolde.

She tilted her head slightly, expression curious.

"Do you perhaps know each other from somewhere before?"

"Ah."

Realizing how the situation might appear, Lugh promptly explained, keeping his tone level.

"She’s a soldier. Like me, she sailed the Devil Sea and was a participant in the Siege of Drakensmar."

"The Devil Sea, huh..."

This time, it was the elf Selaphiel who spoke. Her voice was hauntingly soft—like a whisper carried on a dead wind.

It sent an involuntary shiver crawling up Lyra’s spine. Her glimmering eyes betrayed a faint, unknowable emotion.

She was the only one who reacted with such calm.

Everyone else in the room had been taken aback. Even Uncle Edrin, whose lascivious gaze had been quietly drifting over Lyra—subconsciously comparing her to Isolde—looked mildly stunned.

"A soldier?!"

Marcus blurted out.

The face they were seeing didn’t suit that image at all. But it explained the style of clothes she was wearing—something Marcus had been desperately trying to avoid questioning out loud.

"Hey."

Lirienne heard someone speak beside her.

She sharply turned her head to the left and saw Enji standing upright with his cane—black, gold-inlaid—resting neatly in his left hand.

A violet blindfold, embroidered with ornate golden thread, completed the look. She was more than a little unnerved by how he always seemed to just appear, silently, without her ever noticing until it was too late.

He spoke again, tone casual yet probing.

"So what’s the issue this time? I can sense a really weird aura close to Lugh."

"Aura,"

Lirienne noted thoughtfully, then replied.

"It belongs to a really pretty lady."

"...Is that why they’re acting so weird?"

He asked.

"Yes,"

She confirmed, realizing she herself had recently been among the ones acting weird.

Enji, who stood taller than her by half a head, spoke again.

"Just how beautiful is she?"

Lirienne contemplated for a moment, glancing again at Lyra’s figure.

"Full lips, symmetrical face, extremely smooth skin, a sharp but not harsh jawline... I don’t think my words can do it justice. It’s something you just have to see for yourself."

Then she paused, suddenly realizing something.

"Oh no. Sorry, I—"

"Don’t worry,"

Enji replied calmly, unbothered.

He pressed again.

"So she’s really, really beautiful."

"Yes. Exactly."

Enji pursed his lips. Then asked,

"Between her and Lady Selaphiel—or Rochelle—which is better?"

Lirienne’s gaze drifted over the cold beauty of Rochelle Von Heim, whose iron confidence had already begun to show cracks.

Then her eyes shifted to the elven Selaphiel, still hidden beneath her veil. Finally, they returned to Lyra.

She sighed.

"Beauty is subjective."

"Are you being serious right now?"

He chided.

Realizing she’d have to say more, Lirienne gathered her thoughts and began a detailed explanation.

One who observed the pair from afar would have assumed they were engaged in a serious discussion of far-reaching consequence.

"Rochelle is certainly... alluring. Yes, that’s the word for it."

Enji simulated raising his eyebrows beneath his blindfold. A pointless gesture—but one he made nonetheless.

Lirienne continued, her tone businesslike.

"She’s nineteen. Not quite matured, yet old enough not to be called childish. However, she tries to seem mature. Between the smoky eyeshadow and the low neckline, it’s obvious to anyone looking hard enough."

Then she shifted subjects.

"Compared to her, Lady Selaphiel exudes a more youthful charm. It’s ironic, considering her age. Her long ears are aesthetically pleasing.

Couple that with her lineage, her status, and above all—her glam—and she exudes an aura of something pure. Something unattainable. And as we both know, people desire most what they cannot have."

"In this regard, I’d say Lady Selaphiel trumps over Rochelle—and, frankly, any of us—by a landslide."

"Very insightful analysis,"

Enji added thoughtfully. Naturally, he was the one who taught Lirienne how to assess such things.

A blind person couldn’t enjoy the sight of beauties? Who decided that?!

Just like someone could estimate a character’s appearance through reading a book, Enji had found the calm and observant Lirienne and taught her how to grade beauty using voice and behavior analysis.

And he had to say—she was talented.

Now, if only someone else could assess her beauty for him, all would be peachy.

Shaking his head, Enji returned to the matter at hand.

He asked,

"What about the mysterious lady everyone is ogling?"

Now that Rochelle had been effectively eliminated from the rankings, Lirienne stroked her chin.

"She’s very impressive,"

She began.

"Although we don’t know who she is, or anything about her, through sheer presence alone, she managed to captivate us all."

"Hmmm..."

Enji muttered, mimicking her chin-stroking motion. The two of them repeated it in near unison, drawing strange glances from those nearby.

"Lugh introducing her as a soldier further complicates things,"

Lirienne said.

"The contrast could definitely attract many. It could also be off-putting. Her tattoos really amplify that effect."

"I see,"

Enji murmured, thoughtful.

"So... does this mean Lady Selaphiel wins again?"

"No, not really,"

Lirienne clarified.

"Oh?"

Enji sounded surprised.

The girl answered,

"If I were to describe Grandmother’s beauty as timeless... then this mysterious lady’s beauty would be—unnatural."

"Huh?"

Enji exclaimed softly, an expression of mild shock washing over his face.

"You mean to say...?"

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