"How about it? The feel of... a young girl's hand like this?" Lilithia's crimson eyes brimmed with mockery. "Someone like you must've experienced similar things before—though always by accident, right? But having me deliberately place your hand there... does it excite you?"

Fiore couldn't resist flicking Lilithia's forehead again.

Lilithia clutched her forehead. "Do that one more time and I'll get angry! And trust me, you don't want to see me angry!"

"Oh?"

"Darn it!"

*Damn it. So these seemingly gentle male leads are all secretly scheming types! All smiles and kindness in front of girls, but pulling shady moves the moment they're alone with their buddies.*

Lilithia rubbed the spot where her arm had fractured earlier. The pain was already gone. "This badge of yours... you got it from the Church, didn't you?"

"Hmm... a friend who serves there gave it to me."

"A woman, I bet?"

"... ..."

Lilithia's expression screamed *I knew it*.

"Let me guess—the Holy Maiden?"

Silence was answer enough.

*So he really is a harem-seeking bastard?! If I hadn't transmigrated, would I have ended up as just another girl in his collection too?! How outrageous.*

Admittedly, he *was* a remarkable man. Lilithia had to confess—even she’d felt her heart skip a beat earlier when Fiore carried her. If a former man like her could react that way, an ordinary girl would’ve been utterly smitten.

The part of her that was once male felt deeply ashamed.

Standing before a protagonist like him, that masculine pride struggled to stand tall. She knew she couldn’t match his actions—even if she faced the same trials, she’d never act as he did.

Hiding her flicker of insecurity behind a smile, Lilithia teased, "What if your Holy Maiden finds out you’re using her gift on another girl...?"

Fiore shook his head. "She’s kind. She’d probably be happy for me."

*Heh.*

*So this is the protagonist’s signature obliviousness and calm? From my pre-transmigration knowledge, that Holy Maiden is far less forgiving than he thinks.*

*If she truly were that generous, she’d have given him a powerful healing scroll—not a keepsake badge. Let’s be real: this thing’s basically a territorial marker. And Fiore, being utterly dense, probably mistook it for a token of friendship. Clever woman—she knew he’d refuse anything too valuable. So she just enchanted it with a minor spell. But following tropes... this badge likely has another purpose. A key? A token to unlock something special?*

"You should keep this badge safe~" Lilithia turned serious. "It might be crucial someday."

Fiore frowned, puzzled. "Of course I’ll keep it safe. It’s a gift. Ruining it carelessly would be disrespectful."

"Speaking of which," Lilithia shifted topics abruptly, "could you tell me about that woman—Mephas? If it’s something you need to hide from me, just say so. I’m not that nosy."

"The Tulip Empire has twelve Archdukes beneath the Emperor, each wielding supreme authority. Every one stands just shy of Sage-level mastery in magic. Only with such power can one become an Archduke. She’s the daughter of one such Archduke."

*Holy crap.*

*That sounds insanely overpowered.* Lilithia had boasted about revenge earlier to look tough in front of Fiore, but comparing that to her own pathetic mana reserves capable of only weak spells... it felt hopeless.

*Wait—if he’s the protagonist, where’s his cheat ability?*

After three years in this world, Lilithia finally faced the truth:

*She had no cheat.*

If she did, it should’ve awakened by now. Maybe she’d been too cautious? Since she started as a blacksmith... could the hammer at home actually be a Divine Artifact waiting for her blood to activate it?

*I’ll test it when I get back.*

"So she’s so obsessed with capturing you..." Lilithia mused. "Let me guess the trope: you accidentally fell into her bath, saw her naked, refused to take responsibility—and instead of being furious, she got *interested* in your resistance? Now she wants to recruit you?"

Fiore’s jaw dropped. He stared at Lilithia with wide, horrified eyes, utterly speechless.

"Lilithia... are you... a legendary Prophet? The all-knowing sage with ultimate wisdom...?"

"You’re overthinking it."

Lilithia massaged her temples. *Such cliché plots.* But if Fiore followed the standard script—mountain disciple trained by a mysterious master, summoned to the capital, climbing to the world’s peak only to uncover hidden conspiracies—what role did *she* play? She couldn’t just be another harem addition. There *had* to be something special about her...

*That’s what she believed.*

"Is our deal still on?"

Fiore blinked, thrown by her sudden topic shift.

"I mean finding my father. Yes, your antics dragged me into trouble, but didn’t we come to this town for *that*?"

"Absolutely," Fiore replied firmly. "I’d be ashamed to call myself a man if I didn’t help you find him."

Lilithia stood, brushing dust off her clothes as she surveyed the forest. "That white aura that burst from you earlier—is that ‘Qi’?"

"Don’t use it lightly. Unless you reach the ‘Saint’ tier, it harms everyone nearby. It’s purely for combat."

Remembering the nausea from earlier, Lilithia abandoned the idea of asking Fiore to fly her back.

"Will that woman attack again?"

Fiore shook his head. "No. She’s proud. After this failure, she’ll devise a more thorough strategy next time."

*You actually understand women pretty well. The contradiction of him—brilliant when it counts, utterly dense otherwise. Yet women seem to adore that exact mix.*

Lilithia held out her arms.

"?"

"Carry me."

She said it without a shred of embarrassment. "The city’s far. I’m a blacksmith, not a marathon runner. Walking would drain me, and at my slow pace, we’d arrive at midnight. Carrying me is faster."

Fiore hesitated.

Lilithia rolled her eyes. "I’m not teasing this time! Hurry up!"

*(Just this once.)*

Relief washed over Fiore’s face. He swept the petite girl into a princess carry and strode forward at a brisk pace.

Lilithia looped her arms around his neck. "Do you really believe me?"

"Hmm?"

"When I say I won’t lie to you... what if *that* is the lie~?"

"I believe you. That’s enough." Fiore’s reply held zero hesitation. "My heart chooses to trust you. I know it’s no falsehood."

Even Lilithia blushed. Being told that so bluntly *was* embarrassing. Only someone like Fiore could say such things with a straight face.

Fiore noticed the suddenly quiet, well-behaved girl clinging to him and sighed inwardly. Lilithia gave him the same vibe as the legendary "witches" he’d heard about—not that he was interested in actual witches. It was just... she seemed to see right through him, spouting cryptic remarks.

Most unsettling of all?

*How deeply she moved him.*

He recalled her oath moments ago—her guiding his hand to her chest. He glanced down, meeting her crimson gaze fixed on him, and quickly looked away.

"Don’t worry~ I’m holding tight. I won’t fall," Lilithia assured him, misreading his unease. "My injuries are fine too. For a low-tier healing item, it’s surprisingly top-grade."

*No—that wasn’t it at all.*

He trusted this girl completely. Though they’d known each other less than two days, Fiore felt absolute certainty about Lilithia.

She was so light.

Despite his strength, he felt her fragility—the thinness of her frame. Compared to peers, she wasn’t weak... but cradled in his arms like this...

His hands grew awkward. *Thighs? Knees? Calves?* None felt right. He’d always known girls smelled nice—but could a scent truly make his heart *linger* like this? As if invisible hands gripped his core...

He wasn’t holding an ordinary nine-year-old girl.

Her spirit burned so fiercely that, for the first time in his life, Fiore recognized her as—

*The opposite sex.*

*Am I... really a pervert attracted to nine-year-olds?*

For the first time, Fiore seriously considered the idea of romance.