His golden-lit hand trembled faintly as it came to rest on the slender curve of her waist.
When dealing with serious injury or exhaustion, directing sacred power straight to the affected area was far faster than focusing it through the forehead. This was, without question, a legitimate act of healing — and yet he could not account for why it felt so thoroughly indecent.
He had started out with purely uncomplicated intentions. Come in quietly, administer sacred power while she slept, and leave.
But the unguarded innocence of Kasha asleep, her face peaceful and her posture entirely undefended before him — along with the pale skin he had briefly glimpsed earlier — kept fracturing his concentration, and something far less noble kept rising in its place.
No matter how hard he tried to stay focused on the sacred power, the soft warmth of her beneath the thin fabric, the impression of her skin, her body heat — the afterimage of white — kept pulling his breath apart. Desires that no holy knight should harbor stirred and stretched within him.
The kiss they had shared in the forest at the imperial picnic surfaced unbidden, and his attention kept drifting to her lips. Not just her lips — her entire presence, every part of her, was acting on him.
I could blame the residual effects of the lust curse — but it’s far too obvious that it isn’t that.
No amount of silent prayer seemed to be doing any good.
Under ordinary circumstances, directly channeling sacred power to her thighs and hips — where the worst of the strain had accumulated — would have produced the best results. But given his current state, he was acutely aware that what he was doing could no longer be called healing. It was closer to something that warranted an apology.
He settled for pouring as much sacred power as he could into her waist instead, and left it at that.
When he withdrew his hand, his face was visibly drained.
His physical strength he could restore with sacred power easily enough. The real damage, he acknowledged privately, had been dealt to his dignity as a holy knight.
“Then at least this much — you’ll let me take this without asking, won’t you, Kasha.”
He murmured the words to himself, and then, without hesitation this time, his lips descended briefly and gently onto her forehead.
That you are here, that you are in front of me right now, in this moment — and that it satisfies me this thoroughly — it frightens me, Kasha. I may have finally, truly lost my mind.
For the first time since entering her tent, a smile touched the corner of his mouth.
The expedition assembled from among the Holy Knight Order’s most elite — knights who had been forged through years of service within the Order from their earliest days as trainees. There was not a soft soul among them.
Holy knights were different from ordinary knights. They had sacred power — a weapon that set them apart. They had been shaped by grueling training and iron discipline into something that carried an almost transcendent air about it.
These were men too proud, even, to avoid the occasional reputation for aloofness. And on the fifth day of the expedition, they stood in formation across the broad expanse of Svarata Plain, stretched to the horizon in every direction.
Before them stood a single young woman.
A refined, pale face with delicate features. She was holding a magical device with her thin wrists that looked like it might snap her in half — the device itself appeared to be roughly half her own size.
And yet the aura around her was, strangely, commanding. It might have been those unusual rose-pink irises. Or the composure in her expression — distant as still water, untouched.
However it was read, she had only been with the expedition a handful of days — a slender woman appearing suddenly in the midst of a rough company of men. Every pair of eyes on her was alive with frank curiosity.
Were it not for the widespread rumor that she was Sir Leon’s lover, more than a few knights — even in the Holy Knight Order — might not have managed to keep their tongues to themselves.
But it was not pure curiosity on every face.
For men who took pride in both sacred power and swordsmanship, the device instruction the noblewoman was proposing to give this morning struck most of them as rather beside the point. They held less enthusiasm for the class itself than relief that a stretch of the tedious march had been postponed, and they stood in their places with appropriate indifference.
“Has everyone assembled?”
Even under the weight of all those listless stares, Kasha did not shrink.
She straightened her shoulders and her spine.
She knew exactly why she had managed to hold herself intact across these five grueling days, despite the relentless pace. And she knew it had nothing to do with divine grace or coincidence.
Leon, who crept in and out of her tent each night so that she would not notice, doing it for her sake.
She would give him her best. Right here. Right now.
“I will begin the demonstration of the long-range attack device. Please hold questions until the explanation is complete.”
The eyes of the knights drifted with mild skepticism to the device in her hands.
We’re going to need to carry that for her, aren’t we — someone’s aside stirred a ripple of laughter across the formation, loose and careless.
Kasha deliberately did not look at Leon, who was watching from a slight distance. She kept her expression even and still, and the laughter faded.
She shouldered the device with effort and pointed to three knights in the front row.
“Do you see the glass tube beside the firing mechanism? Channel your sacred power into it, please. As much as you can.”
They moved forward slowly, in turns, and each applied their sacred power to the tube.
The golden radiance of holy power filled the tube halfway, shimmering with a sacred glow. The three knights straightened with a trace of pride.
Kasha’s expression was flat.
“Not particularly impressive.”
“…!”
While they were still struggling to believe what they had just heard, Kasha called forward three more knights from the front line.
“If possible — try to fill this tube. If you can manage it.”
The faint expectation already discarded in her voice stung their pride. They poured every bit of effort they had into it and slumped, exhausted.
Several knights nearby clucked their tongues.
“They’ll run themselves out before they ever meet a single monster.”
“They’re planning to use that thing in actual combat? What is Sir Leon thinking — it’s not as if he’s never seen a real battle.”
The complaints were only possible because Leon was standing well out of earshot.
But Kasha turned her gaze and let it settle, briefly, on the complaining knight. He went quiet of his own accord. Kasha spoke, her tone measured.
“This is, as the name says, a long-range attack device. In situations like ambushes — when the enemy holds a significant numerical advantage — it makes an attack possible. All of you know what the Holy Knight Order’s weaknesses are.”
She was not wrong, and that was precisely why the knights’ faces were not entirely pleased.
It was true that the Holy Knight Order was vulnerable to fast, close-range engagements and ambush-style attacks. Their strength lay in sustained combat — absorbing wounds, healing rapidly, and pressing on until victory was secured.
The knight who had complained spoke again, his face set.
“Monster behavior is predictable. Their numbers are never that great, and by nature they tend to scatter rather than coordinate. I understand the point you’re making — but as to how useful this would actually be in the field…”
“Don’t assume that the monsters you’ve faced until now are the same as the ones you will face.”
Kasha cut him off cleanly, and in the same motion swung the device’s barrel toward the plain.
Out in the middle of the plain, a large pool had formed from collected rainwater. A family of bison were drinking peacefully from one end.
From the far side of the same pool, a pride of lions was sauntering toward them with interest, closing the distance with lazy, predatory ease.
Kasha held her expression and took careful aim.
She knew better than anyone what this moment meant for the rest of the expedition.
The mood among the knights was casual — little more than idle curiosity about what kind of trick she’d manage to pull off.
Then—
THOOM.
A sound like something compressed and suddenly released — and from the barrel of the device, a brilliant sphere of golden light shot out at tremendous speed.
But what came next was the truly astonishing part.
The blazing golden sphere landed where the pride of lions had been moving. A faint tremor — and then a great hemispherical dome of golden light bloomed and enclosed the entire group.
In the next instant, every lion dropped to the ground simultaneously. Without a sound of protest. Without so much as a twitch. A bison calf wandered up a moment later and grazed beside them without the slightest concern.
“…Is that — did that just—”
Jaws fell open across the formation.
Kasha held her gaze on the plain for a long moment before drawing it back. She met the eyes of every man in the formation — every one of them now fixed wholly on her — and received them without expression.
“Now. Take turns. Practice.”
Tenth day of the expedition.
“Lady Kasha!”
Kasha dismounted and handed the reins to Karim as he jogged up to meet her. By now the habit had become natural — no matter how many times she insisted she would handle things herself, the knights would not hear it.
“Lady Kasha — I’ve assembled the knights designated for the long-range devices, selecting for highest sacred power capacity. Could you take a look when you have a moment?”
Kasha gave a small shake of her head.
“I trust that you’ve done it well.”
“Ha — you give me far too much credit.”
She studied his pleased expression for a moment, then turned and continued walking. Karim fell into step beside her, guiding her toward the inn without breaking stride.
“The village we’re staying in tonight is on the edge of the desert — but it’s an important supply hub for the surrounding region, so the food should be decent. Lucky, isn’t it?”
Desert. That would explain the dry, parched feel of the air.
Kasha was nodding when she stopped.
“Sir Karim.”
“Yes?”
“You’re Sir Leon’s adjutant, aren’t you? Why does it seem like you’ve been following me around lately?”
“Oh, that’s simple enough.”
He shrugged, entirely unbothered.
“Your peace of mind is our Order’s peace of mind, Lady Kasha.”
“Pardon?”
“Ha. When you eat less at supper, the atmosphere across the entire expedition turns bleak by the next morning.”
Kasha had no answer to that and simply let Karim lead her where he was going.
She had not been face-to-face with Leon since the expedition began. She could only assume he was deliberately keeping his distance — conscious of the effect their relationship might have on the Order’s cohesion.
Am I in the way because I forced my way in?
She had worried about that in the first days. But the worry hadn’t lasted.
The elite knights stationed near her like shadows, quietly checking on her state throughout the day.
Warm water and fresh food always waiting in her tent before any other, regardless of where they made camp.
On the nights they stayed in inns near the route — a gentle knock at her door, and then something sweet left outside it.
And above all — her body, which in spite of everything had not once broken down with fever or illness across this brutal journey.
All of it was Leon’s invisible care. There was no way not to see it.
And every time she did, she missed him with a helpless, steady ache. She saw him each day at the head of the formation — and it still wasn’t enough.
Wanting more, even with all this generous, thoughtful attention — she was struck, freshly, by how shameless she had become since the regression.
“Departure tomorrow will be late afternoon due to supply restocking — please rest well!”
Kasha received Karim’s cheerful goodbye with a measured nod and stepped into the room that had been assigned to her.
A few moments later, as she worked the stiffness from her body and opened the window, she startled back with a gasp.
