"Hmm-hmm-hmm..."
After the amorous union had concluded, Moen hummed a little tune, savoring the refreshing, airy feeling that came with post-coital "sage time", while once again appreciating the shy way Lea dressed.
For a cute young woman, there are two moments that, in Moen’s view, are extremely sexy and full of charm.
First is taking off clothes.
Fabrics of every kind peel away layer by layer under nimble fingertips, like butterfly wings fluttering, dancing lightly, bit by bit revealing skin as white as mutton-fat jade, graceful curves, towering peaks, and the mysterious garden.
Add seasoned caresses and deep exploration to that, and as the heat gradually rises, you can see the young woman’s most rosy, captivating expression.
The second, naturally, is putting on clothes.
The scattered clothes are gathered up again; the unconscious curve when bending to pick them up, the pert waist and hips, the swaying peaks, the shyness and annoyance under a watching gaze, the instinctive covering up, and that reserved way of, from the inside out, from shallow to deep, hiding each inch of beauty and mystery back into well-fitting clothes—all of it sparks endless reverie and aftertaste.
Of course, if at this moment, as with undressing, Moen could also join in and participate together, it would certainly add many different flavors.
Sadly, the shy one right now was already mortified just being watched by Moen while she dressed, glaring hard at that lecher several times with her dewy big eyes.
Push it any further and she’d probably bristle like a cat.
So Moen could only be a graceful gentleman who admires from afar, refraining from any intimate advances.
"Bad man..."
Lea muttered, snatching up the long dress on the floor that had already been torn into strips, a trace of helplessness and sweetness showing in her eyes.
She pulled out a white long dress and slipped it on, then cinched her waist with a black belt.
The young woman’s already ethereal temperament looked even purer under the white dress’s contrast.
Only, her rosy pretty face and those shy, mist-laden eyes would make one sink into them without realizing it, like being soaked in spring water under warm sunlight.
Thinking of spring water, Moen recalled her a moment ago, that murmuring, spring-water voice, soft humming and light singing, irresistibly alluring.
But it wasn’t only the young woman who felt airy; Moen felt pretty empty too.
From top to bottom, from head to toe, emptied completely.
Truly - ammunition exhausted and supplies spent.
Not a single drop left.
"Still looking."
Lea planted her hands on her hips, puffed up with anger:
"Get up, it’s time to take care of proper business."
"Proper business? Didn’t we just take care of that?" Moen said with a grin.
"Th-that... how could that count as proper business!"
Lea glared at Moen in shy annoyance, wanting to come over and thump his chest, but after just two steps her lovely legs went a bit weak and she tumbled straight into Moen’s arms.
Looks like holy light isn’t omnipotent after all.
Moen, amused, wrapped an arm around Lea’s waist, but suddenly felt a sting in his shoulder.
He looked down and found that Lea had lightly bitten his shoulder, scolding in a huff:
"Hurry... hurry up and let me go, you lecher."
"Alright, alright, I’m a lecher, I won’t touch you."
Moen quickly let go, watching Lea get up and tidy herself as if nothing had happened, and couldn’t help wanting to laugh out loud.
Truly adorable.
...
...
After the affection, they still had to return to the "proper business" at hand.
But Lea paused, gazed around, and suddenly felt incomparably lost.
Right, what exactly was the proper business for her now?
At this moment, after the devouring by the blazing sun just now, the entire tower, even the entire space, had completely vanished. As Lea thought and looked around, the whole plain of Canterwell lay fully in view.
All the blood and savagery had disappeared; this had become an ordinary plain, an ordinary land, only with no vitality left—gazing into the distance, it was a scene of deathly stillness.
In this Canterwell, aside from Moen and Lea, there were likely no living people left.
The matter had reached its end; everything had already settled.
She had not become the saintess who saved this land, but rather a sinner who took on the sins of a million people.
"Sorry."
Moen’s hand threaded through Lea’s hair as he said softly:
"I broke my promise."
"No..."
Lea shook her head and smiled. "This was my own choice; it has nothing to do with Moen."
"..."
Though she smiled, Moen looked at Lea’s slightly bewildered eyes and felt a pang of heartache.
The young woman had indeed faced her heart and chosen the love she valued more at this moment, but how could the efforts and goals of ten years be so easy to relinquish?
Losing that qualification must be terribly painful for Lea.
Moen took that small hand and said:
"Will you come back to Belland with me? It’s your home too."
"Belland..."
A trace of reminiscence surfaced in Lea’s eyes.
Indeed, aside from the Church, the place she remembered most was Belland—the Academy.
Now that she could no longer become saintess, returning to Belland, returning to the Academy, and being with Moen should be the best choice.
But...
Lea thought for a moment and said:
"I... I’ll think about it a bit more."
"Why?"
"Because everything I have now ultimately comes from the Church, so I have to see what arrangements the Church makes next. And also..."
Lea paused:
"Even if I can’t become saintess, I still want to use the abilities I have now... to do something. Belland is wonderful, but that’s just it—it’s too wonderful. If I’m there, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything."
"Is that so..."
Moen didn’t continue trying to persuade her; he squeezed Lea’s small hand. "Let’s think about those things slowly later. We’ve been delayed in here so long that the others are probably getting anxious."
"Mm."
Hearing the words "so long," Lea couldn’t help blushing again.
Moen comforted Lea for a while, then took out a teleportation scroll, ready to crush it.
Just before that, Moen turned his head to sweep his gaze around, savoring it a little.
This place did hold quite a few memories for him... both good and bad.
He just didn’t know whether there would be any chance...
Hm?
In the instant Moen’s movements slowed slightly, with a creak he saw a golden door suddenly open in front of him, golden light flickering as if inviting him to enter.
"This... weird... is this door really that smart about opening?"
Moen looked at the door, then lowered his head to look at the intact scroll in his hand, and suddenly had a very bad premonition.
But before he could even react, a sudden tremendous force burst forth in the void and precisely... kicked Moen in the butt.
With a stagger, Moen was booted into the doorway like a rubber ball.
Judging by the force and sharpness of it, Moen could feel precisely the annoyance and impatience contained within.
It was like seeing the Chinese cabbages you painstakingly grew in your yard being rooted through over and over by a wild boar that then dawdled and refused to roll out.
Since you won’t roll, I’ll help you roll.
"F—"
Before the instinctive curse could even leave his mouth, Moen felt like a plush toy stuffed into a drum washing machine.
His body seemed to be in a void of nothing, spinning at high speed.
Three thousand rotations to the left, three thousand to the right.
Up and down, then another three thousand rotations.
In the few short seconds of traversing space, Moen felt that everything in his body from brain matter to stomach acid—every semi-viscous liquid—had been thoroughly churned and mixed together.
The time was both brief and long; light swam up before his eyes, and Moen finally landed on something solid.
The world was still spinning uncontrollably; Moen forced his eyes open and saw a few strange expressions, faces staring fixedly at him.
"Yo, Moen."
Paul waved at Moen, looked him over from head to toe, and asked curiously:
"Judging by that distinctive look and your disheveled state upon arrival... don’t tell me someone had you got railed by someone in there."
