The black lady's fascinator was perched jauntily atop her head, and her elegant black pleated dress lent her an air of dignity. Black lace gloves enveloped her tender, petite hands, and the semi-transparent black tights clung to her slightly voluptuous legs, ensuring that even the little skin she showed was veiled in black. The round-toed ankle boots added a touch of playfulness to her ensemble.
This all-black attire focused on accentuating the upper waist, while the wide skirt concealed Ravenna's most alluring feminine curves. This gave our doll-like miss an appearance that truly resembled... well, a little girl.
Ansel looked down at the conservatively dressed and ascetic Ravenna: "It seems... something is missing."
He brushed his hand across Ravenna's forehead, and a piece of obscure black veil headwear obscured her mature face, which bore no trace of youthfulness.
After this adjustment, he stepped back to appraise Ravenna once more, then nodded in satisfaction:
"This is perfect now."
The young Hydral extended his hand to Ravenna with a beaming smile: "Anyone who sees you would fantasize about what kind of beauty this girl will grow into in four or five years."
Ravenna silently handed her hand, wrapped in black lace gloves, to Ansel. Truth be told, she couldn't accept this style of dress at all, but she had little choice. She thought to herself that Ansel still favored black as always.
"So—"
The wicked devil drawled with pleasure: "First, let's go meet your colleagues whom you see every day."
He felt the tender little hand he held twitch slightly. Clearly, Miss Ravenna was entirely unwilling for others to see her in this state.
Ansel's smile brightened even more: "Do you know what to call me?"
"...Father," Ravenna replied, her voice trembling slightly.
"Good girl."
Unless one mastered this independent logic, it was impossible to reverse-engineer the data system.
Some are now attempting to understand and analyze this logic from scratch, and while fifth-stage sorcerers' power is undeniable, it's uncertain how far Ravenna could advance her data systems by the time they might succeed.
Ansel hadn't anticipated Ravenna could actually create such a device—he had only provided a vague idea, a whimsical notion.
This is the talent that even fate acknowledges, willing to bet on its success.
Now, the miss puppet with such talent... was stiffly brought to an alchemy workshop by Ansel.
"First stop," Ansel whispered, "Madam Ronger, who has always cared for and protected you. Let's not get discovered, or... I'll have to explain in my own way."
The young Hydral blinked, bending down to whisper in Ravenna's ear, "My... good daughter."
Ravenna trembled slightly, instinctively gripping Ansel's hand tighter.
Being discovered... How should she explain? How would Ansel explain? And how would she face Madam Ronger?
All these thoughts froze as the doors to the alchemy workshop slowly opened.
"I had not anticipated the honor of your presence, Lord Ansel. My sincerest apologies for not being able to welcome you upon your immediate arrival," said Ronger, who had been preoccupied until he came forward to greet.
Since the incident at the Etheric Academy, the upper echelons of the Tower of Babel have been exceedingly humble in their dealings with Ansel, always maintaining a posture of humility.
"It's of no consequence; my arrival was indeed unexpected and may have caused an interruption," Ansel responded, his gaze drifting to the slightly puzzled look in Ronger's eyes as they fell upon the delicate figure of the doll-like girl, his lips curving into a pleased smile.
"Allow me to introduce her to you, Madam Ronger. This is Helen, my... daughter."
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