"What did you just say?"
Her violet eyes instantly turned cold, that piercing gaze fixing directly on Linen, as if she could see through to his soul.
Holly had to admit she'd let her mind wander just now.
For a high elf who loathed the opposite sex, encountering a handsome male she didn't completely detest was rare. Sure, he was young, but it was hard not to feel a trace of fondness.
Couple that with the perfect atmosphere a moment ago, and those slightly questionable lines Linen had intentionally delivered... Any elf so single-minded about artifactcraft and so lacking in social skills might get the wrong idea.
But that didn't mean Holly would tolerate someone younger exploiting her lapse in composure.
Whatever goodwill she'd built toward Linen vanished with his impertinence.
If Linen continued to overstep—or, worse, tried to leverage this—she'd gladly teach him a lesson.
She never should've let these idiotic men get their hopes up in the first place!
Yet, beneath the weight of her penetrating gaze, Holly saw not a trembling fool, but clear blue eyes calmly meeting her own, showing just the right touch of confusion at her sudden intensity.
Linen appeared taken aback, puzzled as he explained:
"I just meant—doesn't Master Holly want to take me as an apprentice? Is there something wrong with that?"
Holly's sharpness faltered immediately.
Come to think of it... there wasn't anything wrong with his question. The situation had gotten a little dramatic, yes, but Linen really had placed first in her challenge. It wasn't strange for him to wonder. Perhaps she was being overly jumpy.
Realization crossed Linen's face, and he gave a self-deprecating laugh:
"Sorry, that was a stupid question. Someone as mediocre as me obviously isn't worth your time, Master Holly."
Honestly, Linen's self-assessment was spot on.
As someone standing near the pinnacle of artifact crafting, Holly's eyes—and judgment of students—were sharp.
Many things in this world just weren't fair. Exams, grades—all of that could perhaps be rewritten with luck or hard work. But artifact-making was different. If you couldn't do it, you couldn't.
Some people could look at something once and immediately grasp an artifact's essence, even create one by instinct. Others, despite tireless effort, would be left in the dust the moment a true genius made the slightest effort.
If an average kid started self-deprecating in front of her, Holly normally wouldn't bother responding. Her life was filled with such people—if she comforted every one, even a high elf's lifespan wouldn't suffice.
But this time, she'd misjudged Linen first. With just the right twinge of guilt, Holly—uncharacteristically—actually comforted him:
"Don't belittle yourself, Linen Norton. You have your own worth."
"Thank you, Master Holly."
Linen nodded slightly, reining in his "disappointment" with a forced smile. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he added:
"Right, Master Orlando—maybe I'm not suitable, but you still want to accept a successor from the academy, don't you? Could I recommend a friend?"
"A friend of yours?"
Holly eyed him suspiciously.
"Yes, Elena from my group."
Linen nodded earnestly.
"She might have an ordinary background, but she's the most talented artifact-maker I've ever met. I really think, if not for the surprises in the Artificer's Exam, she should've been first."
There was calculation in his words—but sincerity too.
Elena, without a doubt, had a gift for artifactcraft. In the original story, she'd begun self-taught, yet through effort—and protagonist luck—rose to become a master rivaling even Holly. With the right teacher, Elena's potential was limitless.
Of course, the hack author of the original had to slow Elena's progress somehow. After several poetic comebacks against noble brats who harassed her, she ended up withdrawing from the competition to become Holly's apprentice.
And the mastermind behind all that? None other than His Highness Linen in the original...
But now, Linen himself was persuading Holly to take Elena as a disciple. Karma, perhaps.
Linen could have taken the old route, sabotaging Elena for his own gain—but boosting himself by harming others just wasn't his style. He rejected the idea outright.
Besides, now that he and Elena shared a certain "transaction," Elena's Affection Level toward him wouldn't rise much from this—perhaps it would even drop.
After all, the system rewarded him more for rejecting heroines than pursuing them. In the long run, Elena's rapid growth was a net gain for Linen, who desperately needed strength.
Linen expected persuading Holly would require effort, yet to his surprise, she barely hesitated before briskly nodding:
"Alright, I'll consider it."
That answer caught Linen off guard, but Holly offered no explanation.
In truth, Linen's suggestion perfectly suited her needs. She'd noticed Elena's unique talent from the start of class. But Holly's standards were high—noticing was one thing; bending her rules to forcibly accept a student was another.
If she missed the chance, so be it. Holly wouldn't lose sleep over it.
Linen's request provided the ideal excuse: she could take on a clearly gifted apprentice without breaking her principles, and count it as minor compensation to Linen—or at least, that's how Holly rationalized it.
Of course, Holly secretly had other reasons.
When she'd fixed her Magic Eye on Linen earlier, she'd activated the artifact she always carried to protect her mind and soul. Both showed no signs of tampering or attack.
That meant her lack of dislike toward Linen—even that trace of fondness—wasn't due to an artifact or Arcana effect.
That left only two possibilities. First: some higher power, something nearing the realm of rules themselves, was influencing them—which was obviously impossible.
Leaving only the second: she genuinely felt fondness for Her Majesty the Empress's youngest son, a prince hundreds of years younger than her?
The thought shook Holly to her core.
At the same time, she couldn't prevent a bit of selfishness from blossoming inside...
If she took his companion as an apprentice… would that mean she'd have more justified, natural opportunities to see him again?
...
Of course, Linen had no idea about Holly's secret thoughts. So, when he finally secured the deal for Elena, he quietly sighed in relief.
And deep down, he sighed again.
Turns out she's even trickier than I expected.
Holly Orlando. For the beautiful, mysterious high elf standing before him, the original novel hadn't actually spent many words describing her—but Linen greatly valued her.
Her combat power wasn't particularly impressive. At least compared to the Empress, who'd achieved fleshly sainthood, or Headmaster Sorgana, who twisted Space Arcana into all sorts of wonders, Holly lagged far behind.
But in another sense, Holly held greater value—namely, her ability to turn fantasy into reality.
As one of the greatest artificers in the Zijinghua Empire—indeed, across the whole continent—until Elena matured, Holly was undoubtedly Linen's best chance at crafting powerful artifacts.
But only if he could win her favor. Otherwise, with Holly's temperament, even if Linen became Emperor and offered her the entire treasury, she'd sneer and ignore him.
So, Linen had done his homework on gaining Holly's goodwill.
On paper, Holly's identity and titles were intimidating enough to frighten anyone.
A high elf who lingered in the mortal world, among the continent's finest artificers, Miracle-maker of Zijinghua, and a respectable Arcana Mage herself.
To pursue the peak of artifactcraft, Holly had even left the elves' eternal paradise, enduring the natural debuff of male-aversion, to study in human lands.
She typically secluded herself in her secret realm, immersed in research, rarely appearing in public. Occasionally, one of her legendary works surfaced, endlessly praised as proof of her prowess.
Very, very few earned her true friendship—Headmaster Sorgana happened to be one.
Yet, amid this dazzling, respected history, Linen painstakingly found a crack.
The more closely he examined her grand biography, the more familiar it felt.
Aversion to men, poor social skills, reclusive, awkward around people...
Seen from another angle, Linen suddenly realized: beneath the glamorous surface of this miracle-maker wasn't she essentially… a shut-in otaku?
And given her financial independence, she was essentially a wealthy… rich-lady otaku!
Being a shut-in didn't always mean social anxiety—but it definitely meant limited communication skills.
Therefore, Linen hadn't used his usual aggressive style with Holly. Instead, he'd let her take the lead, deliberately appearing weaker, and—using his Titles—tugged gently at her emotions.
And it worked.
This was the same Master Holly who'd once broken three legs of a visiting male noble just because she disagreed with him. Yet she'd spoken with Linen this long, even negotiated—already a remarkable achievement.
Still, progress was much slower than he'd hoped.
In the original novel, Master Holly had disappeared from the story after a certain point, never reappearing. That sort of forgotten side character wasn't rare in web novels—but it was extremely troublesome for Linen.
He had to operate under the assumption Holly might vanish at any moment, making every second of this conversation critical.
He'd planned to use this rare opportunity to boost her favorability as much as possible, but he was still falling short.
Fortunately, Linen had a Plan B.
If emotional manipulation wasn't enough, he could cater to her tastes instead.
"Master Holly."
Linen suddenly spoke softly, capturing Holly's attention.
"I know I don't have much talent for artifact-making, but I really love designing artifacts. My little sister says I have a knack for it, too. Would you be willing to give me some guidance?"
Upon hearing this, Holly agreed—but didn't take it seriously.
Artifact design sounded simple but was even harder than crafting artifacts.
If artifact creation was turning imagination into reality, then design was creating something from nothing.
Every great artifact began as a design—but every designer needed deep practical experience.
Holly doubted anyone unable to craft artifacts would excel at design. Yet, out of a trace of goodwill toward Linen, she nodded anyway: "Alright, let me see."
Linen nodded, taking several blueprints from his storage ring and handing them over.
Holly frowned slightly, not reaching out—instead, with a twitch of her finger, the blueprints floated naturally into her hand.
Initially, she glanced at them absently, but quickly her violet eyes sharpened, turning solemn and deeply absorbed.
After a long pause, Holly finally looked up from the designs, asking with a strange expression:
"Your sister… who is she?"
Linen smiled, knowing he was halfway to success:
"Princess Noraviel. If I'm not mistaken, you've already met her."
Holly nodded, spreading the blueprints across the table, her expression growing even stranger:
"Who would've guessed—the brother that little princess admires so much is actually you. The world really is small."
"I thought as much. I figured the only person capable of turning those crazy designs into real artifacts would be you, Master Holly."
Linen grinned.
Indeed—the blueprints he'd handed Holly were precisely the designs he'd made for Novie: the Invisible Sword, battle dress, Ebony, Ivory, and other gear.
Of course, Holly hadn't forgotten the designs that had left such a deep impression on her. Her attitude toward Linen shifted—from indifference to genuine interest.
"So, since you've guessed the princess's artifacts were my handiwork, you're not just showing me something I've already seen, are you?"
Linen nodded, pulling out a new blueprint from his ring. "As expected of Master Holly. What I really wanted to show you was this design. It's inspired by a friend of mine, so I named it after him."
But Holly didn't seem to hear Linen's preamble.
The moment he revealed the blueprint, her eyes—all her senses—locked completely onto the slim sheet of paper, utterly ignoring Linen himself.
Perhaps it was an affinity between creators from two different worlds: the instant Holly saw the blueprint, her gaze was captured by that bizarre, shocking steel—a six-chambered design, both powerful and stylish, the brass pipes utterly mesmerizing.
This was the creation of an extraordinary designer from another world—a terrifying invention that ended one era and began another.
Presenting the blueprint, Linen's expression was solemn and cautious, as though releasing a monster.
He'd kept the design's original name:
"I call it—Maxim."
Almost by reflex, Holly reached out eagerly to take the blueprint from Linen's hand.
And at that moment, their fingertips brushed.
Instantly, the fascination and excitement vanished from Holly's eyes.
"Don't touch me!"
She recoiled sharply, pulling her hand away from Linen's.
Seeing Holly trembling faintly, her face flushed, Linen was equally stunned.
Did I just… get an unexpected bonus?
---
T/N: MAXIMM also ikeep imagining her as THE herta...