"You knows about wild fruits too?"

On the simple bed made from leaves, Lea held a small, adorable wild fruit in her hands. She took a gentle bite, her cheeks flushing a shade as red as the fruit itself.

Feeling the sweetness and juice overflow in her mouth, she asked in mild surprise.

Would a nobleman’s son really bother to learn about such things?

"I don’t know them," Moen replied casually.

"I can’t even distinguish the effects of potions, so how could I recognize them?"

"…"

Lea froze for a moment, her expression stiffening. "But why…"

"Because Lea clearly knows them."

Moen chuckled mischievously.

"If the fruit I ate was poisonous, you would definitely stop me."

"…Absolutely not."

Lea paused briefly, then angrily took a fierce bite of the wild fruit. "It would’ve been better if you’d been poisoned to death."

"Well, that can't be helped."

Moen shrugged. "Though, before dying, I’d have to figure out how to leave this place. Leaving a beautiful maiden’s corpse exposed in the wilderness—that would be so unchivalrous."

"…"

"Anyway, let’s sort out our situation first."

Moen sat down, lifted his head, and gazed at the colossal trees towering above, even larger than the redwoods he’d seen in his previous life. He sighed.

"First of all, it's clear we’re in Deathbane Forest."

"Yes," Lea nodded lightly, sneaking a glance at him.

"This ominous feeling can’t be mistaken for anywhere else."

"If this was a random teleportation accident, it’d be too much of a coincidence. So, it seems the enemy deliberately sent us here, likely aiming to separate me from Pink Bear and the others.

I remember you mentioned that Disaster haunting this forest doesn’t allow other Crowned beings to enter its territory."

"Not just the Crowned," Lea added quietly. "The stronger the being, the more likely that one’s attention is drawn. So, I’m guessing that anyone entering this forest must be below Tier Five."

"Below Tier Five…"

Moen smiled wryly. "Doesn’t sound like levels we can easily deal with, does it?"

Given they had taken the trouble to teleport him here, there was no way the enemy intended for him to simply vanish into the wilderness and starve to death.

Which meant this perfectly-timed assassination plot surely had more layers awaiting. Most likely, the "hunters" who now saw him as prey were sharpening their claws and getting ready to join the "party."

"I underestimated just how determined those people could be," Moen mused silently to himself.

To take down a minor Tier-Two duke’s son, they had spared no expense in hiring a renowned Crowned figure and other unknown elite forces. What kind of ultimate VIP treatment was this?

Logically, wouldn’t this level of targeting make more sense for his father, the higher-ranking duke?

He chuckled bitterly—what did he, a useless layabout who daily dreamt of clinging to Celicia’s coattails, ever do to deserve this level of attention?

But... oh well.

He had faced situations a hundred times worse before. Just take things one step at a time.

"Thanks."

"?"

Lea tilted her head, not understanding why Moen suddenly thanked her.

"You saved me back then, didn’t you?"

Moen smiled softly. "If you hadn’t risked yourself to help me, I’d probably be in an even more dire predicament now."

The enemy’s first priority had been eliminating him. So when the spatial magic hit, it came with devastating chaotic properties—any ordinary person caught in it would likely have been reduced to minced flesh instantly.

Although his physical condition wouldn’t let him perish so easily, being gravely injured amidst mounting dangers would've certainly been a step closer to death.

"It wasn’t… it wasn’t intentional," Lea muttered, pouting lightly. "I wasn’t trying to save you deliberately… I just…"

"I know, I know."

Moen nodded knowingly and smiled with a hint of deeper meaning.

Lea was truly worthy of being the future Saintess. Though her most urgent task was to reach the Holy City, when faced with someone in danger, no matter who they were, she would always risk herself to save them.

This kindness and bravery were essential qualities for becoming a Saintess.

"But don't worry."

Moen suddenly looked straight into Lea's eyes, his tone serious.

"I promise I’ll escort you to the Holy City. No matter what."

Because if Lea failed to become the Saintess due to his involvement, who knew how much chaos that would wreak on the future storyline?

And on top of that, it would simply be unfair to the girl whose fate had been affected by him.

"…"

Avoiding his gaze, Lea lowered her head. After a moment of silence, a small, gentle "Mm" escaped her lips.

"Still, there are so many troubles we need to deal with now," Moen sighed. "Your spatial magic artifact was lost along the way, wasn’t it?"

"Yes."

"Damn it."

It seemed the enemy’s actions had been meticulously planned. Their spatial artifacts hadn’t been "lost" but had likely exploded during the chaotic collision of space magic, making it impossible to get them back.

The loss of their belongings didn’t just eliminate most means of seeking external aid—it also left him unable to use prepared tools and items.

Before setting off, Moen had packed his spatial artifact full of illicit weaponry and magic scrolls, telling himself he might as well go all out since they weren’t in Belland anymore. His plan lay shattered now, leaving him significantly weaker.

He touched the pure-white dagger at his waist.

Luckily, Elizabeth had its own sentience and autonomously escaped the spatial artifact; otherwise, he would have suffered a truly catastrophic loss.

"You didn’t lose anything particularly precious, did you?" Moen asked.

"No… not really."

Lea gently rubbed a plain-looking ring on her pinkie finger, shook her head, then hesitated and nodded.

"The lost spatial artifact only contained miscellaneous and personal items—it wasn’t valuable. The important stuff is stored here… But the five hundred thousand you gave me… that’s gone."

"Nothing precious lost, that's good."

Moen gave a glance at the seemingly simple but unusual ring and let out a relieved breath. This mishap had at least taught him to secure higher-grade spatial artifacts next time. Smiling, he added,

"As for the other stuff—and the five hundred thousand—I’ll reimburse it fully later."

"No… that's unnecessary!" Lea instinctively wanted to refuse.

But Moen immediately adopted a stern expression and said, “That won’t do. We agreed on everything beforehand. If you reject compensation, then wouldn’t that make me a breaker of promises? What if the Goddess really sends a punishment upon me?"

"…"

At the mention of "promises," Lea remembered that night in the carriage, when they’d had that strange conversation. Her eyes wavered briefly before she bit her lip and relented.

"Alright, fine."

"Now that's more like it."

Moen’s smile returned.

The immunity talisman he’d carefully tricked (ahem, negotiated) out of her—the Ariel-exclusive "get-out-of-jail-free card"—would’ve been a shame to lose here.

"But for now, things indeed don’t look ideal."

Moen’s expression gradually grew serious as he scanned their surroundings again.

A gloomy, chilling environment seemed to seep through their skin.

Even though no immediate danger had appeared, the eerie quiet resembled the calm before a storm—making their unease grow stronger.

"And the most important issue now is... How do we leave this forest?"

Moen fell deep into thought.

He had just made a round nearby—trying to climb giant trees to scout the horizon—yet still found no answers.

Only trees. And more trees. It was like being at the center of an endless ocean; every direction offered identical scenery.

A sight that sparked despair.

With the enormous canopy blocking the sky above, he even lacked tools for determining direction.

He tried consulting Black Book, but it gave no response, as if unwilling to bother with such trivialities.

At this rate, they’d only get completely lost in the vast forest.

“Um... I might have a way to help us leave,” Lea suddenly interjected hesitantly, raising her small hand.

“Huh? You do?”

Moen’s eyes lit up.

“What kind of method?”

“Um… the holy light.”

Lea extended her palm outward, sacred light gathering in it. She gazed at the light and softly explained,

“Since Holy City is a place devoted to the Goddess, it possesses the purest concentration of holy light in the world. Using the holy light within myself, I can faintly sense the direction of Holy City.”

“That means we won’t get lost in the forest anymore!”

Moen clapped his hands in delight, exclaiming,

"You’re amazing, Lea! That solves our biggest problem effortlessly!"

“No, it’s nothing… It’s just…”

Clearly embarrassed, Lea's cheeks flushed as she continued shyly,

“Holy City is very far away, after all… I can only sense the direction faintly. If I make an error…”

“You won’t."

Moen bent down and began gathering their belongings, casually and confidently reassuring her,

"I trust you, Lea. If even your guidance to Holy City ends up being wrong, then truly, no one on this earth could find it.”

After all—she was destined to be the Saintess.

"…"

Lea didn’t know Moen’s inner thoughts, but as silence enveloped them—peaceful and free of fear—she quietly watched Moen go about his work.

Her heart stirred again with that indefinable emotion, rippling faintly yet persistently.

"Mm."

For the umpteenth time that day, she responded softly.

This time, though, her reply carried an imperceptible sense of quiet excitement.

"And besides…"

Moen broke the silence as he wiped away traces of their presence, suddenly lifting his head to grin mischievously.

“If we can’t leave, being stuck in this forest forever alongside a beauty like you doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

"F-F-Forever!?"

Lea’s body trembled as if struck by lightning.

Her mind—still reeling moments ago—resumed frenzied spinning, chasing the implications of Moen's teasing words down an irrational spiral.

Forever...Forever... That means, they'll have to stay here a lifetime, naturally becoming *that* kind of relationship, and then naturally doing *that* kind of thing?

Like the thing that this guy and that senior's doing?

At the end of her train of thought, Lea once more recalled that shameful image. Though months had passed, it was still vivid as if it had happened yesterday.

This is unacceptable!

As one of the candidates for the Saintess, how could she indulge in such shameless behavior?

Her thighs subtly rubbed together as a familiar blush crept across her charming face. At the same time, a small delicate fist suddenly enlarged in Moen's bewildered gaze.

“Eh? Wait a second, Lea, did I say something wrong?”

“Pe... pervert!”

“Ah—!”

The pained scream startled the birds resting on distant treetops, their piercing caws echoing like a summoning chant, or perhaps a jaunty melody.

---

"Hey, dead bird!"

A shadow flickered by as a man with a sinister look and piercing glare reached out with a large hand. The enormous raven, half his height, had barely awakened and had no time to flap its wings before the man snatched it from the branches.

Licking his lips, the man asked, "Have you seen a blonde-haired man?"

"Squawk—" The raven struggled but couldn't escape, so it nodded its head reluctantly.

"Or a woman said to have a big breast and beautiful features?"

"Squawk—" The raven fluttered its wings instinctively.

"Seen them? Say something."

"Squawk—" The raven called out loudly.

"Hmm, I see."

The man nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “I didn’t understand a single word. Absolutely useless—you can’t even talk human!”

Gripping the raven's body at both ends, the man twisted hard. Like invisible shears snapping shut, the bird cried one final note of agony before splitting into two halves. Streams of blood flowed, and the man drank deeply, laughing aloud:

“This damned bird actually tastes decent!”

“Disgusting.”

Nearby, a woman wearing heavy makeup with flowing wavy hair held her wand and pinched her nose. She stepped farther away, frowning.

“Barton, could you hold off on your blood-drinking habit until we complete the mission? It's unbearable.”

“Hmph, it’s precisely amidst this dreary assignment that I need fresh blood to keep my soul ablaze!”

“You’re going to get us exposed this way.”

“Heh.”

Barton dismissively shook off the feathers and blood from his body, casting a sideways glance at the woman:

“And what’s your purpose here, as our mage? Just a 'trophy wife'? Ms. Fular? Though frankly, I don’t fancy vases with wrinkled skin like you.”

“Are you picking a fight, Barton?”

Fular’s expression turned icy as her magic power surged around her:

“If you don’t mind, I can bury you right now.”

“Oh? You think I’d be afraid?”

Barton sneered coldly: "Now, if your sister— the renowned Radiant Flor— were here, I might feel slightly intimidated. But you, Fular? Just some pathetic loser who hasn't managed to break into the Radiant Tier for decades. I—"

“Enough.”

A soft-spoken voice interrupted them, instantly defusing the tension.

The silver-haired priest knelt to carefully bury the bisected raven, holding a holy text in his hands and humming a prayer of compassion.

His expression radiated serene kindness, as though basking in divine light. Yet when he spoke, both Fular and Barton showed expressions of respect... mixed with fear.

“The great Lord gathered us not to quarrel, but to fulfill the destiny entrusted upon us. So... be kind, okay? Our Lord is watching.”

After completing his burial rites, the priest’s face retained its gentle calmness. However, he then casually dug the raven back out of the earth and swallowed it whole.

Both individuals visibly shuddered, averting their gazes in silence.

“Found it!”

Nearby, a hyena crouched low on the ground suddenly thrust its hand into what seemed to be an ordinary patch of earth, pulling out... a wild fruit.

Excitedly, the creature stuffed the fruit into its mouth, chewing fiercely, its juices dripping like animal drool.

“That’s it, no doubt. Based on what the council provided, Moen Campbell definitely stayed here not long ago!”

“Haha, ha! He thinks he’s cautious, wiping away all traces. But there's no way he can pass through here without leaving anything behind!”

“How long will it take to find him?”

“Three hours, tops. In three hours, we’ll have him within reach!”

“Great.”

The priest gracefully retrieved a handkerchief, wiping his lips clean. His gaze turned to the serene depths of the forest ahead as he smiled:

“Then let's begin, under our Lord’s ever-watchful gaze, a hunt that will surely please Him.”