She stood taller than Yedi—taller than most men or women in the Empire.

Her eyes held an allure both unapproachable and mesmerizing.

If the Seductive Demon Seris possessed the world’s most irresistible temptation, then Qingruo embodied its most unattainable yet deeply coveted divinity—a sacred, untouchable grace.

What could not be had was always the most desired.

To every man in the Empire, she was precisely that.

Her path had long been sealed: total devotion to the Holy Lord and the Holy Church. Who dared hope to glimpse her grace?

In truth, no supreme power needed to threaten would-be suitors. Her own will was unshakable—perhaps stronger than any man’s in the Empire.

*Unlike me…*

Yedi gazed up at the statuesque Qingruo. Her pristine white uniform glowed fiercely under the sun, as if purging all sin and shadow from the world.

Yet her breathtaking face, her chest rivaling even a succubus’s curves, the supple strength of her waist, the powerful grace of her hips and legs sheathed in tailored white trousers—all radiated a heat that blurred the line between angel and demon.

She was a Lady Templar Knight, an avatar of divine will. Yet her beauty and figure, impossible to hide even beneath modest attire, carried a devilish magnetism.

Enough to ensnare even the Empire’s former strongest warrior.

Of course, Yedi would never succumb merely to her appearance.

For a moment, he found himself utterly spellbound.

"Teacher Yedi," Qingruo stepped forward, hands clasped before her. She bowed with the poise of a top-tier imperial heiress, her eyes holding both tender warmth and unbreakable resolve. "Many rumors spread during your absence. But I always believed the Holy Lord’s light would guide you back. Your return today silences them all."

She advanced again, those long legs drawing the eye yet commanding respect through sheer presence. This time, she offered the formal salute of one Holy Temple Knight to another.

The first bow honored teacher and student. The second honored comrades-in-arms. Qingruo was a woman who upheld rules to the point of severity.

To her, Yedi was both mentor and brother-in-arms from the Sacred Temple Knights. Since joining the order, she had ceased seeing herself as a woman.

Yet she kept her long, flowing hair—a testament to her absolute certainty. No hesitation. No doubt.

Those who masked their femininity to prove indifference still clung to gender. Qingruo did not.

Even radiating sensual charm, she stood utterly unwavering—like the Valkyries in ancient Holy Church epics. Were they not also embodiments of feminine allure, loyalty, and purity?

But this knightly salute unsettled Yedi. His slight frame stood dwarfed by hers, making him seem almost boyish beside her mature elegance.

He couldn’t return the salute properly. He knew it was improper—but he simply couldn’t.

"Qingruo," he deflected, forcing steadiness into his voice. "Shouldn’t you be in second-year, class three right now?" He had to maintain authority before this towering student. What was the point of reclaiming his manhood if he crumbled here? He’d regret it tonight.

Before Qingruo, he was the teacher. His presence couldn’t falter.

"My apologies," she replied, her stunning eyes sharp with zero tolerance for error. That gaze made Yedi’s heart skip—a flicker of guilt, though he’d done nothing wrong. *I wasn’t this nervous around her before…*

"It’s fine," he placated. "My sudden return disrupted schedules. Let it go, Qingruo. Class begins now." He avoided mentioning the dean’s ties to the Imperial Prime Minister. Trouble was the last thing he needed.

"Understood, Teacher." A flicker crossed Qingruo’s eyes—she’d likely still file a formal complaint later. But during swordsmanship lessons, she obeyed the instructor without question.

She turned away. Her long black hair swept past Yedi’s vision.

A faint, spring-like fragrance drifted toward him. He slightly narrowed his eyes. *Her hair… that softness… it’s oddly like Selys’s.*

His heart gave a sudden jolt. *What am I thinking? Such a blasphemous comparison!* Selys’s beauty was undeniable—but it was her heart that mattered!

Rustiness and Yedi’s natural reticence made him tense. Especially with Qingruo watching. That woman sensed everything.

Yet once he began demonstrating sword forms, his body remembered its mastery. Avoiding full use of Sacred Power, he moved with instinctive grace—even using the motions to adjust to his reclaimed male physique. It felt strange, even to himself.

Swordsmanship class consumed the entire afternoon. Absent for months, Yedi spent extra time correcting stances and refining techniques.

His teaching style was simple: show, don’t preach. Words couldn’t capture a sword’s truth. That was why even the Empire’s elite warriors revered him.

As dusk neared, Yedi grew uneasy. Normally, Qingruo would bombard him with questions after class. Today, she trained silently—either following drills or practicing flawless fundamentals alone. Occasionally, he’d catch her slicing the air with such ferocious precision that chills ran down his spine from across the field.

*Her swordsmanship has advanced again.*

"Everyone," he announced, wiping sweat. "Your progress is impressive. But focus on defense timing and breaking stances—I want drills perfected by next week. Class dismi—"

"Teacher Yedi."

Exhausted students perked up at the chance to escape early. Yedi’s classes were no joke.

But Qingruo stepped forward from the front row.

*Here it comes.* Yedi braced himself.

Qingruo was ice toward men, rigid in discipline—but fanatical about swordsmanship.

"What is it, Qingruo?" he asked, masking his unease with gravitas.

"These past months," she said, her voice tight with scholarly hunger, "I’ve hit barriers in my training. No one at the Imperial Sacred Academy could answer my questions." The remark subtly dismissed her other instructors—but it was true.

"Oh?" Yedi’s pulse quickened. If it stumped Qingruo, it would challenge even his former self.

She hesitated—a rare crack in her armor. "Words can’t convey it. Teacher… I request a duel. Let my blade ask the questions."

Golden light spilled over the training ground as Qingruo Redvini advanced before the entire class. She formally challenged her teacher.

Her hair danced in the mountain wind. Her eyes held the dying sun’s fire.

"May I?"

"Yes."