Fernandez fixed his gaze on the cup of water Abel had handed him, slightly pulling his chair back as he sat down. Abel sat across from him, tilting her head curiously.
“What’s wrong?”
“…What do you mean?”
“Did a bug fall into your cup or something?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“…Hmm?”
Abel shrugged her shoulders and tapped the table lightly, trying to catch Fernandez’s attention. But he was still staring intently at the water in the cup.
Abel brushed her bangs aside and looked at his dark, sunken eyes. What’s he up to?
“When are you going to start talking?”
“…You ask first.”
“Why aren’t you looking at me?”
“Is that your question?”
“It’s an important one.”
Fernandez slowly raised his head at her words… but when he saw Abel with her arms crossed, he naturally shifted his gaze to the spear. Looking at her face made his heart race, and when he awkwardly lowered his gaze, his eyes landed on the soft flesh pressed by her arm.
‘Damn it.’
-Please act your age. Be mature.
‘You do it.’
-When I was in that situation in my past life, I had a son.
‘Damn it. Faijashi.’
Fernandez thought his soul was utterly useless. Faijashi, who only seemed to laugh and make lewd jokes to torment him, and the fragments of King Dane, who kept whispering to wipe Abel’s sweat and say something warm.
“I’m right here, Fernandez.”
-Swish.
Abel’s white hand waved in front of his eyes. Fernandez was startled and looked at her. She glared at him with a pout, her bangs hanging down.
“What on earth have you been thinking about lately?”
“How’s your spiritual energy?”
“…What?”
“After transforming into a dragon in Altberth, you must have taken some damage. Are you still doing alright?”
Caught off guard by his unexpected question, Abel hesitated before answering.
“I’ll be fine for the next hundred years or so. And a hundred years is enough, isn’t it? Humans live that long anyway, so I might as well think of myself as human now.”
Abel smiled softly as she spoke, looking at Fernandez with a teasing glint in her eyes, like she was playing with a child.
“Were you worried about me? Hehe, Fernandez.”
-Screech.
As Abel pulled her chair slightly closer, Fernandez moved back exactly the same distance. It was a Diemonica-like sense of space. And Abel, with her dragon’s perception, noticed that he had moved away without even a fraction of an inch of error.
“…Why are you moving away?”
“We were already this far apart.”
Well, they were. Abel looked at Fernandez, who was avoiding her gaze. Despite his decline, the aura of a soul that had reached demi-god status allowed her to quickly grasp the atmosphere around him—or rather, the atmosphere of his soul.
It felt oddly familiar. Just as she was about to speak, Fernandez quickly cut her off.
“Um, Abel. Have you ever heard of the desert or the Great Wilderness?”
“Rumors, yes.”
Abel frowned slightly. Fernandez quickly pulled out a letter from his pocket. It was sealed with the Empire’s wax seal.
“I’ve been invited there. Will you come with me?”
“…Hmph. You sly thing.”
Abel scrunched her face for a moment, as if pondering. Soon, she smiled brightly.
“If you put it that way, I can’t ask what I wanted to ask.”
She held the letter, frowned for a moment, then slowly brought it to her nose.
“Perfume…?”
“Ah, you’ll meet them soon. Someone from the Empire’s special forces…”
“Hmmm. A woman’s perfume.”
Abel put the letter back on the table without even opening it. She stood up and stretched for a moment. The white, toned muscles visible through her loose clothes caught his eye.
“I can’t open an invitation sent by a woman first. Come on, follow me. We need to warm up a bit.”
“…Abel?”
“I need to see the swordsmanship you’ve been practicing.”
No ulterior motives. Abel strode out of the room.
As soon as she stepped out of the monastery’s main gate, Angela chuckled and pulled out a pipe. At the same time, a man waiting by the gate approached and lit it with a spark from his fingertips.
-Sizzle.
“Phew. Damn ascetics.”
“How did your mission go?”
Angela curled one side of her lips into a fierce smile. The man opened the carriage door for her and politely stepped back. She climbed into the carriage and said,
“Get in, Brandon. This isn’t something to discuss outside.”
“Yes, Captain.”
-Creak. Thud.
The carriage rattled as it sped down the mountain road. Inside, Angela closed the curtains and lowered the iron bars. In the completely sealed space, she stretched out on a carpeted sofa.
“For a treasure those idealists were hiding, it’s not bad. We can proceed with the plan as originally intended.”
“The General is quite concerned.”
“I don’t care what that old man says, Brandon.”
“The Vaitas Church isn’t some small rural temple. The saint of the Temple of the Gods isn’t just some local youth.”
“And I’m not some country woman, and our special forces aren’t just a neighborhood watch.”
