"At this point, there shouldn't be any problem, right?"

In the dense jungle where deformed flesh and blood intertwined, Moen cautiously looked around. Only after confirming no one had caught up did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He gently set down Lea, who had been clinging around his waist, then casually tossed aside Arag, whom he had been holding by the back collar. Moen adjusted his breathing, quickly recovering his strength.

Because he couldn’t tell whether Freya had any other tricks up her sleeve, he’d sprinted a long distance in one go. Even for him, that distance wasn’t a small burden.

Especially while carrying two full-grown, living people.

“Tss—ow, ow, ow...”

Still injured, Arag sat up, gritting his teeth and glaring as he said:

“Couldn’t you be a bit gentler?”

“That’s my line. Couldn’t you be a bit lighter?”

Moen rubbed his wrist. “Heavy as hell.”

“Eh? Very heavy?”

Lea suddenly tilted her head, her big dewy eyes staring unblinkingly at Moen.

“Am I that heavy?”

“No, Lea isn’t heavy at all. I meant this ungrateful guy.”

Moen said sincerely.

“A beautiful girl’s weight is infinitely close to zero. No matter how long I carry her, I won’t get tired.”

“I see.”

Lea patted her ample chest and let out a breath of relief. “Thank goodness. I thought I’d gotten fat again.”

“How could that be? Lea’s figure is just right.” Moen smiled.

“...Tsk.”

Shameless couple.

Arag clicked his tongue sourly and struggled to his feet. Perhaps because of his injuries, he staggered and nearly lost his balance, then coughed up jet-black blood.

“Are you alright?”

Moen frowned and wiped off the blood that had accidentally splattered on him with a handkerchief.

He’d worked so hard to bring this tool out with him—if the guy croaked before he could shine, that would be a huge loss:

“Do you need Lea to heal you a bit?”

“No, no need.”

Arag hurriedly waved him off. “I can use healing magic too. I just administered emergency treatment—coughing up clotted blood means I’m already much better. No need to waste Miss Lea’s stamina. In our current situation, she’s far more useful than I am.”

“...True.”

Moen quickly agreed with Arag’s assessment. Indeed, no matter what, Lea was far more important than him. Ahem—he meant in terms of function, not anything else.

“So at least be a little more polite about it.” Seeing Moen’s look of giving or not giving as he pleased, Arag’s cheek twitched.

And seeing how spirited Arag seemed, Moen knew he truly wasn’t in serious danger anymore.

“I didn’t expect you to manage to cling on until now. Pretty impressive.”

“Heh, illusion magic isn’t great at much else, but when it comes to misleading others, it’s very powerful.”

“Were you not bestowed a flower by Freya earlier?”

“Of course I was, but...”

Arag clutched his chest, face intoxicated. “There’s already a goddess in my heart, so naturally I can withstand temptation. Don’t say it was just a mere flower—even if Freya threw herself into my arms in person, I wouldn’t so much as bat an eyelid.”

“...”

Great, another simp.

After confirming Arag had no major issues, Moen refocused on the surrounding environment.

In the dense, nauseatingly deformed jungle, an even thicker blood mist than before spread, the visibility not high. But perhaps because the bright moonlight spilled from the moon overhead, when he looked up, Moen could still clearly see, not far off, that tall, ancient, black tower.

“Is that... that tower?”

Arag said in surprise:

“Coming to a place this conspicuous—aren’t you afraid Freya will catch up?”

“It’s fine. If she catches up, we’ll just keep running. In that regard, I’ve never been afraid of anyone. Compared to that, what I care more about is...”

As he spoke, Moen’s expression suddenly hardened. He looked to the side:

“Who’s there? Show yourself!”

“What?”

Arag and Lea immediately tensed as well. With Moen’s sharp bark, the fleshy jungle not far away began to scrape and churn violently. In the blood-colored mist, a figure... was approaching.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me.”

The figure slowly surfaced—it was... a snake!

A giant white snake thrust a head as big as a water vat out of the forest, hissing and flicking its tongue. In its cold serpent eyes were reflected their stupefied faces.

“A magical beast! And it can talk!”

In an instant, Arag ducked behind Moen. “I can’t handle this kind of damned thing. It’s up to you.”

Lea pressed close to Moen too—not for any other reason, just because pretty girls are afraid of snakes.

“There’s actually a proper magical beast in a place like this?”

Moen frowned, then tightened his grip on his twin blades:

“Fine. Looks like dinner is sorted.”

“Wait, wait—I said it’s me, didn’t I? Do you really have no memory of my cute, melodious voice?”

The white snake suddenly opened its jaws. A figure—slimy, her clothes wet and sticking to her body, incredibly alluring—slid out of the snake’s mouth.

The white snake dissipated into mist and vanished. The figure twisted sinuously on the ground a few times, then, with difficulty, raised a hand to brush back her hair, revealing a rather delicate face.

“Miss Faye, you managed to escaped?”

Seeing that face clearly, Lea said, quite shocked.

“Heh, although this lady was the first one they targeted, as the most outstanding of the younger generation of the Tower of Origin, a dual elite—a saintess candidate and a magical prodigy—how could I possibly fall into the hands of that little bitch Freya just like that?”

“But...”

Faye looked at Moen, her face full of gratitude, and said:

“I must also thank Mr. Moen for that Lighting Spell just now. Worthy indeed of being that lord’s disciple—Mr. Moen was actually able to use a mere Lighting Spell to such a heaven-shaking, earth-shattering degree. It’s truly remarkable!”

Moen: “...”

Though her praise made sense, why did he feel guilty for some reason?

“That kind of thing isn’t worth mentioning. Are you okay?”

Moen reached a hand toward Faye. Having a powerful mage like Faye join them genuinely pleased him.

“I’m fine, I’m... pfft...”

“...”

Moen silently withdrew his hand, wiping off the fresh blood on him.

Is spurting blood the fashion now when you’re injured?

“Miss Faye!”

With a cry, Lea hurried to Faye’s side. She cast Holy Light, purifying the grime on her and healing her wounds.

The penetrating wound in her abdomen visibly knitted together. A bit of color returned to Faye’s face, but she immediately stopped Lea:

“The rest doesn’t need healing. That’s not an injury—it’s the backlash from me forcibly drawing on my mana. It can’t be healed.”

“Eh? Then what do we do?”

Although the external wounds were healed, Lea could still clearly feel that Faye’s insides were a tangled mess—her mana and vital energies were in extreme disarray.

“It’s fine.”

Faye waved it off without a care. “A small problem. I’ll be fine after a bit of rest.”

“I see.”

Seeing how relaxed Faye looked, the group collectively breathed easier.

“But...”

Faye suddenly changed her tone: “During my rest, there might be a bit of, uh...”

“Uh... what?”

“So...”

Faye shyly turned her head toward Moen and said in a sugary, coy voice:

“As the disciple of that lord, Mr. Moen must be a righteous and noble man. You definitely won’t abandon a weak woman like me, who doesn’t even have a knight of her own, right?”

“Huh?”

Moen blinked. Before he could react, the moment Faye said that... her head lolled to the side and she promptly passed out cold.

Lea: “...”

Arag: “...”

Moen: “...”

So you worked so hard to escape just to come be a burden to me?

A vein throbbed faintly on Moen’s forehead. If Faye’s injuries weren’t truly severe, he would have suspected she was a mole Freya had sent on purpose.

But...

He couldn’t actually abandon her, could he.

Moen sighed and reached out to haul this one up.

But halfway through the motion, he suddenly paused.

“Arag, you carry her.”

“Huh? Me?”

Arag pointed at himself. “I’m injured—and a mage—and you want me to carry her?”

“Of course.”

Moen nodded seriously. “As the most reliable combat power here, I need to stay on guard at all times. A small task like this naturally falls to you.”

“...Fiiine.”

Moen watched with satisfaction as Arag—whose heart held only his own goddess—grudgingly hoisted Faye onto his back.

Mm, he was merely making the most of his tools. It definitely wasn’t because, just as he was about to carry her himself, he suddenly felt a cold gaze on him.

...

After a brief rest, they continued onward and soon arrived at the base of that giant tower.

When they passed through the blood mist and truly saw the tower in full, they realized it was even more magnificent than they had imagined.

Never mind that the tower itself soared almost into the clouds—the base beneath it was a lofty hill at least a hundred meters high, with only a narrow stairway, enough for two or three people abreast, leading to the tower’s entrance.

Before this pitch-black colossus of a tower, they were as small as ants.