Never before had Yihan been so desperate to fall asleep again.

He was growing convinced someone was toying with him. Every time things reached a critical moment, he’d jolt awake—forcibly logged out, losing all control. Yet no matter how much he tossed and turned in bed, he just couldn’t fall asleep again. It was giving him a splitting headache.

Frustrated, he sat up and stared blankly at the ancient tome nearby—thick as a brick. He wondered if slamming it against his head might help.

His restless movements must have been loud. The bedroom door creaked open. A woman in thin clothing shuffled in, her face etched with exhaustion and worry.

Lia looked like she hadn’t slept all night. She still wore yesterday’s slip, haphazardly draped, revealing smooth, snow-white skin. Her long legs wobbled unsteadily as she walked. She didn’t bother adjusting the strap that had slipped down her arm, baring half her chest. Through tangled hair, her gaze landed on Yihan—dull, weary.

Seeing her, Yihan instantly recalled their fiery, passionate night. If she’d appeared like this on any ordinary morning, after their deepening bond, he’d have pushed her back onto the bed without hesitation. But now, his mind was consumed by the fierce, tense battle in Soul Valley Town five years ago. He had no heart for anything else.

Still, his emotions settled slightly. At least Lia and Carola were both safe now. That meant his actions five years ago hadn’t disrupted his present life. But did that also mean everything was unfolding exactly as before?

He got out of bed, walked over, and gently embraced her.

Her plump, supple arms drifted up to encircle his neck. Her skin felt like chilled silk, warm and smooth, carrying a faint, sweet scent.

Lia pressed her full, slender body against him, leaning her entire weight into him. Only then did Yihan notice how terrible she looked—dark circles shadowed her eyes.

“You didn’t sleep well last night?” He’d been exhausted and slept deeply, thanks to Lia. He’d lingered longer in the past this time.

The woman in his arms lifted her face, gazing at him silently. A sad, confused smile tugged at her lips. Her long lashes lowered, veiling her deep emerald eyes. Her body felt boneless. “Will you sit with me in the kitchen?”

Yihan didn’t refuse. In the kitchen, Lia clung to him, refusing to let go or dress. She sat brazenly astride his lap, legs parted, her cheek resting against his shoulder. Her delicate fingers traced his firm, broad chest. Her full red lips pressed into a dangerous line.

“I… met Carola last night.” Just as Yihan grew worried about her state, the witch in his arms writhed sensually, whispering into his ear. Her words locked his muscles rigid.

His arms tightened around her. Outwardly calm, inwardly he was panicking like hell.

He couldn’t ignore this damned truth: Lia and Carola knew each other. They remembered one another. Since Lia had sought him out last night, he’d dreaded their meeting. He’d waited, but Carola never appeared. Just as he’d thought the Witch Hunter was gone for good—Lia had run straight into her?

What a coincidence. Or had Carola never left, lingering nearby all along?

To hide his panic, Yihan forced his body to relax, feigning surprise. “When?”

“When I left your room last night. She was waiting outside—with quite a few others.”

“You two… didn’t clash?”

Lia smiled seductively, like a venomous serpent parting its crimson lips. Her voice dripped honey. “If Carola and I clashed… who would you worry about more?”

“You.”

The Crimson Flame Witch froze, stunned by his instant, unwavering answer. A trace of relief flickered in her emerald eyes.

Gone in an instant.

She shrugged off her slip, burying herself against his chest with a contented sigh. “Don’t worry. We didn’t fight. Not yet, at least.”

“…What do you mean by that?” Yihan caught the hidden meaning, unease coiling in his gut.

“It means we’ll fight soon enough.” Lia grinned, utterly relaxed. She straightened her soft back, facing him, still clinging to his neck with intimate familiarity.

In the bright kitchen light, her body looked like carved jade—every curve flawless, every inch of skin smooth and supple. Her full breasts nearly brushed his lips.

She smiled, but thick murderous intent and ferocity swirled in her eyes. Yihan felt her fingers digging into his neck, tightening.

“I could tell. She was stalling. She hadn’t brought enough people to take me down easily. So she chatted, buying time—waiting for all the Witch Hunters to gather before ambushing me.”

Lia gazed at him, sorrowful. “See? No matter where I run, the Witch Hunters won’t let me go.”

Yihan couldn’t argue. He hadn’t seen Carola, couldn’t verify the hunters’ true intentions. But given their bold moves, Lia’s words held weight.

So much had happened while he slept? No wonder Carola had vanished since yesterday morning—likely gathering reinforcements.

Now the situation grew dire again. Lia sought peace with him. The Witch Hunters refused to stop hunting her. And he couldn’t stay out of it. Abandoning her was unthinkable.

After a long silence, Yihan lifted his head, clinging to a sliver of hope. “Do you know where Carola went?”

Lia shook her head.

“Could you convince her to call off this hunt when you meet again?”

“Our next meeting will be on the battlefield. There might be enough Witch Hunters to surround this entire town.” Lia sighed regretfully. “Besides… it’s the Papal State’s command. No one dares disobey.”

So there truly was no other choice.

Yihan’s heart sank. Even if Lia abandoned her past, choosing an ordinary life, she couldn’t escape being hunted and exiled. How was this different from five years ago—driven out by townsfolk, persecuted by the Fallen Cult? He had to return. He had to change things. He had to fight for a better future.

Before revealing his secret—his ability to return to the past through sleep—Yihan cautiously probed, careful not to upset her. “Do you… remember what happened five years ago? What really occurred? Were there outside enemies? And how… how did Carola seal you away?”

He held his breath, watching her intently. If Lia remembered—if she told him everything—he could find a better solution. At the very least, it might crack this deadlock, open a new path.

But as each question fell, Lia’s smile faded. She remained astride his lap, back straight, but her expression turned icy.

After a long pause, she let out a scornful laugh. She released him and stepped away.

“I thought… you’d never ask about my past again.”

“For me, that life was pure agony. No future. No warmth. No hope. Just… existing.”

“Now I finally have you. Why force me to relive memories I never wanted to recall?”

Hearing the reproach and disappointment in her voice, Yihan felt ashamed. Her aversion to the past ran deeper than he’d imagined. She wouldn’t even think about it, let alone tell him.

If she wouldn’t talk… who else could he turn to? Carola? Even if he found her, she’d lost those memories too. How could she help?

As Yihan fell into thought, Lia drew close again. She knelt beside him, gripping his hands. Her face was solemn, her voice earnest. “Yihan. Before the Witch Hunters surround this place… let’s leave together.”

“Let’s go somewhere no one knows. A secluded corner… just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be nice?”