The next morning, explosive news spread like wildfire.

The Church’s Holy Maiden had eloped with the Sage from the Radiant Star Squad.

According to eyewitnesses, it seemed Her Holiness had practically abducted the Sage.

Though the Sage showed little resistance.

Anyway, Delan Capital was buzzing today.

Taverns big and small were abuzz with gossip.

No one had heard of any past between them before this elopement, so the "love at first sight" theory gained traction fast.

“Jetri and Violette eloped?” Victoria’s first reaction was sheer disbelief.

The Half Elf and Vya were both in the capital. Princess Delan quickly gathered her teammates.

The three sat on the palace terrace, their expressions unreadable.

Vya’s face was grim. The Half Elf’s expression was icy, yet her gaze drifted absently.

“Vya, you…” Victoria began hesitantly, “Jetri…”

“Mm.” Vya’s reply was dark.

“How could he suddenly… uh…” Victoria trailed off, lost for words.

“You and Jetri weren’t lovers, were you?” The Half Elf’s words cut like a blade, sharp and cold.

“Mm.” Vya didn’t deny it. Or perhaps she couldn’t be bothered.

The Half Elf closed her eyes.

Her chest rose and fell slightly.

Then she drew a deep breath.

Her chair screeched harshly against the floor as she stood.

“I’m leaving.”

She strode off, leaving a stunned Victoria and a silent Vya behind.

“I fear if I stay another second, I’ll want to kill you.”

Her final words were quiet, yet thick with barely contained hysteria.

Victoria’s expression shifted repeatedly.

She finally sighed.

“Let’s go. We have other matters today.”

Her tone was heavy. Yet she didn’t wait for Vya. Rising unsteadily, she stumbled away.

After a long pause, Vya quietly left too.

The Radiant Star Squad was now history.

The Demon King had fallen.

The Valiant Hero returned in glory.

Most citizens even blessed the Sage and Holy Maiden’s elopement.

Violette left a letter in the confessional booth before leaving, resigning her position as Holy Maiden.

Her younger sister became the new Holy Maiden of the Church.

Their elopement changed little. The influence Violette had built within the Church passed to Celine. She might become the most powerful Pope in history.

Vya returned to Aelons Kingdom to claim the throne.

Lilith stayed in Delan Capital.

Victoria remained Princess of Delan.

After her brother’s coronation, she became First Princess.

Jetri and Violette’s departure rippled through the city like a stone tossed into a lake—ripples faded, leaving calm waters.

Public opinion was unanimous: blessings, respect, understanding, acceptance.

Even tavern bards had already composed new ballads celebrating their love.

In a corner of Central Land, an ordinary-looking man rested his chin on his palm, listening to a bard’s song.

“My dear~”

The woman across from him smiled sweetly.

“What is it?” His attention shifted to her.

“Isn’t this amusing?” Her eyes sparkled.

“I suppose so.” He chuckled softly.

Every man in the tavern envied the husband sitting opposite her.

His wife was breathtakingly beautiful.

Especially that aura of sacred gentleness—none had seen its like elsewhere.

No one dared approach her. The archmage’s robe he wore was too conspicuous.

No sane person would provoke a Sage.

Not even the drunkest drunkard in this tavern would stagger over.

“How long since we left Delan?” The Sage casually lifted his wooden mug, taking a swig of ale.

“About two months?” The former Holy Maiden smiled.

“The Church…”

“I told you not to worry about the Church.”

“Alright, alright…” He offered an apologetic smile.

“Still thinking about your Half Elf and Princess?” A dangerous glint flashed in Violette’s lovely eyes.

“Of course not,” the Sage sighed wryly. “Do I seem that kind of man?”

“Hmph.” Violette pouted, propping her chin on her hand.

“My eyes, my heart—they hold only you. No room for anyone else.” Jetri’s voice was warm.

“My dear, you’re so sweet~” Violette’s earlier displeasure melted into radiant joy.

“Naturally. If I weren’t sweet, why would you love me?” Jetri grinned.

“Mm-hmm!” She nodded vigorously.

“Alright, we’ve heard enough. Let’s go.” Jetri stood, offering his hand.

The former Holy Maiden let him pull her up, then immediately wrapped both arms around his, clinging to him.

“Shall we head to the Eastern Continent tomorrow?” Jetri asked, tilting his head with a smile.

“Yes~ Whatever you say~” Violette beamed, utterly besotted.

They left the tavern.

Patrons began whispering about their identities.

After heated discussion, they reached a wild conclusion: Could these two be the Holy Maiden and Sage who’d eloped recently?

Their conversation hadn’t been private. Fragments painted a clear picture.

And it hinted at even juicier secrets.

Hadn’t Her Holiness mentioned a “Half Elf and Princess”?

Were they the Sage’s other teammates?

The tavern buzzed with excitement. But the couple, long gone, cared nothing for the chatter.

“Do you like me a little more today than yesterday?” Violette nuzzled Jetri’s chest, gazing up at him.

“Perhaps?” Jetri teased, his tone playful. “Maybe because you’re a little more beautiful today?”

“My dear, you’re so sweet~” Violette looped her arms around his neck, half-hanging off him. Her sapphire eyes shimmered with foolishly tender affection.

“What’s so sweet about me?” Jetri slid an arm under her knees, lifting her effortlessly. He grinned down at her.

“E~very~thing~” She swayed happily in his arms.

This shameless pair scattered love like confetti in broad daylight.

Their pink, saccharine aura made everyone on the street roll their eyes.

*Where did these love-struck fools come from?*

Jetri carried Violette steadily, unfazed by her wriggling.

He might not match her strength, but he wasn’t weak. Lifting one Violette was no trouble at all.

At the street’s end, sunset painted the sky. Jetri held Violette close, smiling as he teased her.

Violette nestled in the Sage’s arms, blissful.

Their height difference wasn’t extreme enough to make her look petite at first glance.

Yet the sweetness and coyness on her face made her seem utterly delicate.

The man holding her radiated reliability—his gentle movements, soft voice, tender expression.

To passersby, they were a perfect match. Natural. Meant to be.

*Just…*

*Could you not do this on the main street?*

*Damn you lovebirds!*

—The silent scream of every pedestrian.

Their sweetness made singles ache for love and couples hurry home.

The Sage ignored the stares. He simply carried his girl down the dusk-lit street.

His expression tender. His movements tender. His voice tender.

Like the evening breeze brushing the pavement.

Violette felt utterly happy.

She gazed dreamily at the man holding her.

At *her* man.

At the overflowing tenderness on his face.

“Chad…” Violette murmured, lost in Jetri’s warmth.

“Yes?” Jetri smiled, his eyes fixed on her.

“I love you.”

Jetri paused, then chuckled softly. “I love you too.”

A dizzying wave of happiness washed over her.

So intense it stole her breath.

After a thoughtful moment, under the witness of sunset and evening breeze,

Jetri shifted Violette to one arm. With the other, he pulled a small box from his robe.

As Violette gasped, covering her mouth in delight, he asked gently, “Will you marry me?”

Tears traced twin paths down her cheeks.

“Yes!”

She beamed through her tears.

Their joy needed no hiding.

So.

*Passersby: How lovely. How sweet. How touching. But seriously—damn you, go home and be cute there!*

*Die, you lovebirds!*

Amidst smiles that hid gritted teeth, Jetri carefully slid the ring onto Violette’s finger.

Violette stared at the glittering band on her slender finger.

Her sapphire eyes sparkled like the ring itself.

Words failed her.

The sheer, unreal happiness made tears stream freely.

“My dear…” Her voice trembled with sobs. “Is this… a dream?”

“No. But you can think of it as one. Because I’ll make every dream of yours come true.” Jetri’s dark eyes held only her reflection.

“Wahhh… wahhh…” Violette sobbed into his shoulder. “My dear, you’re so good to me…”

“Of course I am. If I weren’t, why would you love me?”

Jetri chuckled, adjusting his hold on her tear-streaked face.

He let her bury her face in his neck, soaking his collar without complaint.