“Why, it’s the area guarded by the Southern Holy Knights. Thanks to them, the land route has been safe for two years. This Bayern incident is a problem with the sea route, as it’s a port city.” 

The owner spoke seriously, extending a plate of oatmeal with his large hand. Leon fell silent, lost in thought. 

Did Bayern really come under attack from the sea?

Leon had boarded a ship to beat “it,” but he was too late once again. He hadn’t even come across any Bahamut on the sea route. 

How was he supposed to understand this situation?

Steam rose from the rolled oatmeal. As he was about to lift his spoon after staring at it for a while, a voice interrupted him.

“I’ll have one of those, please.”

An empty chair scraped against the floor, and a woman sat down next to him. 

Her short hair was neatly combed behind her ears, as if she had just washed it and came down. Her red eyes, which didn’t match her black hair, were lowered, as if trying to hide them. 

But the owner didn’t seem to care. From the start, it was impossible to imagine that an assimilator would walk around unscathed from the beginning.

“Would you like some alcohol too, if you’ll have the same thing?”

Veronica shook her head in disbelief at the owner’s question, noticing Leon’s glass of wine. As the owner went into the back kitchen to get more bread, she blurted out awkwardly.

“Are you actually an addict? I thought the church forbade drinking.”

“They say don’t get drunk, not don’t drink.”

“Cult.”

Leon snickered lightly at her casual muttering.

Even though they pretended to be relaxed, there was a dense tension flowing between them. Veronica lowered her eyes, remembering the vivid memories of last night.

Yesterday, she begged him for salvation.

Perhaps that was why she had vigorously brushed her lips as soon as she woke up in the morning, hoping to wash away the secretive moments of the night before. However, the result was quite the opposite.

The more she scrubbed, the clearer the redness became, like polishing colored glass. He had helped her, and now there was no denying it. 

To be human for a day, one must rely on their own god.

“You put the medicine on.”

At that moment, a low voice whispered in her ear, causing her eyes to widen. 

Veronica didn’t dare look sideways, just straight ahead. She could feel his gaze on the nape of her neck.

For some reason, she felt embarrassed, even though he was only looking at her wound. The neck wasn’t even an embarrassing part of the body. 

Yet strangely, she felt naked in front of that gaze. She wondered if she had ever been so immune to men.

In reality, Veronica had quite a few male friends, but Leon was somehow different from her peers. To put it another way, he was a bit more mature.

“It’s still there.”

Averting his gaze, Leon touched his fingertips to the table.

Veronica stared down at her hand, which was covered in white powder, without even thinking about wiping it off. Next to hers was the hand of a man with prominent veins.

She could have kept staring. If the middle-aged woman wearing a headscarf hadn’t come in and put down a plate of oatmeal and bread without ventilating the room, she would have done just that.

“Just when things were going well.”

There was a clattering sound as dishes were placed on the table. The woman looked at Veronica’s face and smiled warmly. 

Veronica was surprised and waved her hands when she saw the all-knowing smile and warmth in the woman’s expression.

“It’s not like that!”

“Hmm, if that’s not it, then are you lovers who eloped because their parents opposed it?”

“It’s similar.”

Leon picked up a napkin from the tray and spun it around. 

Veronica looked at him incredulously. Similar? 

What about the fact that he kidnapped her in the middle of the night?

The man who joked without changing his expression wiped her fingers, which were stained with medicine. His casual kindness made her fingertips tingle.

Ah, here it goes again. 

Her emotions were getting weird again, just like when he asked her to apply medicine yesterday, or when she found clothes on the bed this morning. 

His actions were confusing her. 

“Oh dear. Then don’t go far for your parents’ sake. My daughter is about your age, she’s married and lives in Kart. I’m dying to see her.”

The woman smiled at the joke, then glanced at the portrait on the shelf. A woman with short black hair and a white face was smiling amidst red flowers. 

It was a striking resemblance to Veronica, and she could see why the woman had looked at her so warmly from the start. She must have been thinking of her children.

At the mention of parents, Veronica felt a hot lump in her throat. 

Why? It wasn’t even a big deal.

It was nothing. She had to endure it.

And she did.

She couldn’t hide her reddened eyes, though. 

The woman who had been smiling warmly suddenly gaped, embarrassed.

“Oh my. Are you okay, miss?”

“Oh, yes. I’m fine. It’s just… I haven’t seen my parents in a long time, either.”

Veronica mumbled, making excuses. Here, “parents” referred to her mother. 

Her father was different from other parents. He was indifferent rather than affectionate, since her mother passed away when she was ten years old.

He found the child’s craving for affection a burden and found it hard to look at a face that reminded him of his deceased wife. 

The more her father stayed away, the more young Veronica longed for attention and affection.

Perhaps that’s why she fell in love with dancing. When she danced, people only looked at her, and they loved her. 

Veronica was particularly vulnerable to affection. 

She would stake her life for even a little bit of kindness. Her childhood friend called it affection deprivation.

She put on an awkward smile, but the woman seemed even more worried about that attitude.

“What do you mean it’s okay? There are no tears with no reason in the world. If you try to hold them in, you’re making yourself heartsick. Just because it doesn’t show right away doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Later, even when talking about something completely unrelated, tears will fall.”

Her worried gaze was kind and compassionate. Veronica suddenly envied the woman in the painting, whom she had never met.

“At times like this, your husband should be on your side.”

Even though she had heard that she was okay many times, the woman still said something to Leon. He casually lied that he would do so. 

The woman handed Veronica a few yellow fruits that were in season during winter. 

Veronica played with the cute and round fruits and then gave them to Leon, who was next to her.

She didn’t let her guard down. She couldn’t and she shouldn’t. 

She would be careful and suspicious, but at least for yesterday, he helped her.

“Let’s eat this together.”

Leon, who was leaning back loosely, had already emptied his bowl and was staring out the window. When he slowly turned his gaze, Veronica’s body tensed involuntarily. 

She wondered if he would laugh at her or say something about yesterday, but surprisingly, he accepted the fruit without a word.

Veronica held her breath at his warmth that touched her fleetingly and then disappeared.

Snow. 

Outside the small prison-like window, snow was falling softly and piling up.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ❁ ⋅.} ────── ⊰


Leon bought beef, smoked meat, and various grains from the inn they had been staying in. He didn’t spare any money because he knew that material things would soon lose their value. Whether it’s gold, silver, or even a diamond of purest quality.  

In just a few weeks, the northerners would no longer exchange their food for gold bars. 

Feeling the cold wind, Leon asked the innkeeper for a cigarette. The innkeeper sold it like a new product, but it was not surprising for Leon, who had lived in the South.

As he puffed on the smoke, he raised his head and saw the city walls rising high above the dilapidated buildings.

‘What a futile endeavor.’

For a moment, he enjoyed watching the building hope, but suddenly the inn door opened with a creak. Veronica, who was wearing only a thin layer of clothes, came shivering to his side.

“Well, I heard from inside that there are refugees gathering in the central square.”

She blurted out what she wanted to say bluntly, looking around. Leon asked while staring at her wet hair and trembling shoulders.

“So?”

“I’m thinking of going there. Maybe I know someone, and then I can ask what happened afterward.”

The woman’s eyes swelled with unconcealed anticipation and hope.

Leon smiled a crooked smile. She’d been nice enough to ask him for a favor. 

He was annoyed by the woman with lots of thorns. It was pathetic how easy it was for her to let her guard down.

As he tossed away the long burnt cigarette, the piled up snow melted into a circle. Leon trampled on it and turned.

“I guess there’s someone looking for you.”

The shadow he cast caused the woman’s breathing to become visibly shallow. 

White breath. Shoulders that were becoming more hunched. 

Despite this, her gaze remained steady.

He found the confident gaze she directed towards him interesting. 

The woman was aware that she was needed. As long as she kept to the conditions, she wouldn’t be killed. 

However, even such a woman was caught off guard by what happened next, her eyes opening wide in surprise. 

A black knight’s cloak, studded with wolf fur, was draped over her shivering shoulders.

Her eyes shook uncontrollably. 

As she tugged the cloak closer, her agitated gaze wandered over Leone’s impassive face before settling on his steady gaze. The white breaths between the two people dissipated as they watched each other. 

Leon tilted his head slightly.

“The question is, why should I trust you enough to send you out? Who knows if you’ll meet someone you know and run away?”

He recalled the name she murmured in her sleep.

Was it Benjamin? 

Perhaps she wasn’t relaxing her guard, but pretending to be naive.

Veronica frowned at the mention of fleeing, as if she’d come to her senses. She glanced down at the cloak that covered her entire body and denied it.

“I won’t run away.”

“Sorry, but I don’t have much faith in you.”

“I guess you don’t have much faith in humans.”

“That’s why I believe in God.”

For a moment, Veronica frowned at the pun but then blurted out impulsively.

“If you can’t trust me that much, just come with me.”

She was surprised at her own words.

What kind of relationship would he have with her to meet her acquaintances?

The thick cloak had certainly clouded her judgment. 

Going to the crowded square where the refugees had gathered was a bothersome task. 

Veronica couldn’t imagine Leon standing next to her, being introduced to her friends. 

She hastened to add:

“No, I was just saying that…”

Suddenly, a woman’s chilling scream pierced through the street, interrupting her. 

Veronica froze in shock. 

The sound, which should have naturally continued, abruptly stopped. 

It was as if the woman had died.

The moment Leon pulled her behind him, a neckless woman was thrown from an alley.

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