Jetri rarely joined wars, even with demon blood already staining his hands.

But those kills were either easy prey or victims of his underhanded schemes.

Jetri seldom faced strong foes head-on.

Even among the continent’s scarce Sages, he ranked among the strongest.

Yet bullying the weak and scheming through conspiracies were habits—unrelated to power.

So he’d seldom witnessed hellscapes like this meat grinder before his eyes.

As expected, Chelsey circled overhead—but didn’t attack. Waiting for someone.

“Richard Jetri!!”

The succubus’s voice held addictive allure. Even her shrill, excited shrieks sounded mellifluous and decadent to Jetri’s ears.

Her massive black wings snapped upward. After a midair flip, she folded them and dove straight at Jetri.

No words needed. The Radiant Star Squad—forged in thousands of battles over five years—instantly positioned themselves without orders.

Simultaneously, they began channeling sword techniques, magic, rituals, and blessings.

“Hahaha! Hahahahahahahaha!!!” Pink hair streamed behind the diving succubus like a straight line. Her dark eyes, eerily similar to Jetri’s, burned with madness and exhilaration.

Chelsey was powerful—but loved frontal assaults.

The polar opposite of Jetri.

She might’ve tempered it now, but four years ago, when Jetri first killed her, this Succubus Lord would charge into obvious traps.

Little had changed.

Jetri never bothered understanding why a succubus craved battle so fiercely.

He only knew one thing: Chelsey was coming.

The moment she entered range, thunderous booms shattered the battlefield.

First—a deafening barrage of explosions.

Then—countless high-tier spells stampeded toward Chelsey like wild horses.

A colossal fire dragon squeezed from a magic circle. Before it could roar its arrival, other high-tier spells drowned its voice.

*7th-Tier Magic: Flame Dragon Summoning.*

Humiliated by its unceremonious debut, the magical beast surged faster than the rest toward the succubus.

But instead of crashing straight in like direct-damage spells, it veered and unleashed a wall of scorching dragonfire.

Chelsey emerged as if taking a bath. Only a trace of burns marred her skin; her expression never flickered.

A casual flap of her black wings dissolved the dragon mid-air.

“RICHARD!!!!” Chelsey’s frenzied cry cut through the magical detonations.

The Succubus Lord’s gorgeous, manic face burst from the smoke.

Jetri’s magic failed to stop her—but Vya’s sword did.

Vya and her blade seemed to vanish the instant they clashed with Chelsey.

Chelsey vanished too.

Only sonic booms and vapor clouds proved their collision.

Jetri’s eyes snapped to track them, but his spell-chanting hands moved slowly.

Lilith struck first.

A blinding green arrow flashed—gone in a heartbeat.

Chelsey reappeared. Her massive black wings shielded her body, now pierced by a long arrow that seemed grown from nature itself.

The arrow dissolved after embedding.

Jetri’s barrage of spells followed.

Lilith vanished. A steel dagger materialized beside Chelsey before her body did.

The dagger struck true. Lilith disengaged instantly—even before Jetri’s magic arrived.

Jetri tossed aside the spent magic scroll.

He drew an expensive wand. Magic circles bloomed densely around his left wand hand and right palm.

He *could* cast barehanded—but left-hand casting was slower. Against Chelsey at close range, speed was life.

Vya gave no breathing room. She lunged again.

A blinding light erupted from her body.

“Almighty, merciful deity! Lend Your authority to this valiant hero!” Victoria raised the holy cross hovering before her chest.

*9th-Tier Magic: Page of the Divine Realm.*

Vya’s sword descended in sync.

A muffled groan—pleasure or pain?—escaped Chelsey.

One massive black wing tore free.

Black blood gushed from the stump.

Yet Chelsey showed no pain.

Her grin turned feral.

Losing a wing barely dented her power.

No time for taunts.

No time for speeches.

No time for farewells.

Chelsey ripped off her remaining wing. Blood erupted from her back as the severed limb melted into ominous black sludge, fusing with her arm to form a living blade.

She charged Vya. The blade slashed downward.

Vya parried without retreating.

This legendary sword—sister to the Lady of the Lake’s blade, wielded only by pure, loyal knights—rippled with light on impact.

But its divine power couldn’t bridge the gap between Vya and Chelsey.

Vya flew backward.

A midair flip left her unharmed—but opened a path straight to Jetri and Victoria.

“Richard!”

Chelsey’s cry—ecstasy? joy? hatred? twisted longing?—sent chills down Jetri’s spine.

His dual-casting couldn’t match her speed.

*Damn! Spells are too slow.*

In a flash, Jetri switched tactics:

Instant damage spells → aura and domain magic.

*8th-Tier Magic: Starfall!*

Chelsey’s steps grew heavy. Grounded without wings, her mobility dimmed despite unchanged speed.

Jetri’s spells finally landed.

With little effect.

Jetri’s face darkened.

“The Lord grants protection!” Victoria’s urgent cry and Chelsey’s seductive silhouette arrived together.

A golden holy barrier enveloped Jetri.

He seized the moment to chant:

“Fleeting stars, grant me an instant’s impact, grant me eternal burning, grant my enemies—”

“Your voice… is so lovely…” The barrier shattered like glass. Chelsey’s manic smile and whisper invaded his mind.

His thoughts turned to chaos.

Only two words left…

“Purify!” Princess Delan’s cleansing arrived just in time.

Clarity flooded Jetri’s eyes.

The final words tore free:

“Annihilation!”

Before her slender fingers could touch him, the incantation completed.

*Magic Scroll: 9th-Tier Magic: Meteor Swarm!*

Chelsey’s body slammed into the earth—embedded deep, impossible to pry out.

Lilith flashed in for the kill—but found only black feathers where Chelsey had lain.

“Four years made you strong. I’m thrilled. No killing today—see you next time, Chad~”

Her playful, seductive tone suddenly turned hollow and low.

She vanished without hesitation.

Her severed wing regrew seamlessly.

With a wingbeat, she soared into the distance.

Lilith wanted to pursue—but neither Vya nor Jetri moved.

“Trap,” Jetri warned, blocking the Half Elf.

“Hmm.” The Half Elf nodded obediently, stopping before his outstretched hand.

She stared at his palm.

Her crimson, moon-like eyes glazed over—lost in thought.

*Chelsey’s wounded but combat-ready.*

Their unanimous conclusion.

Frankly, her final burst was her true power. Before that? She’d tanked Jetri’s spells, toyed with Vya in close combat, outmaneuvered Lilith, ignored Victoria’s blessings.

She wasn’t stupid—just experienced.

As if this battle were an amusement park ride.

Jetri and Vya? Just attractions.

“Help clear some demons, then we withdraw,” Jetri said, gaze fixed on Chelsey’s vanished trail. Headache brewing.

Demon soldiers weren’t mindless—they fought fiercely.

Ordinary troops often lost to same-tier demons.

Border clashes were routine, yet oddly, demon casualties dominated despite their numbers and discipline.

Not just “evil loses to good.”

Jetri refused to dwell on it. He’d considered—but feared digging deeper.

His path was simple: kill Satan again, or die by Satan’s hand. End of story.

Deep waters like this? Not his concern.

Night brought a lively border camp. A bonfire celebration welcomed the Radiant Star Squad.

Performances, laughter.

Jetri had no interest.

*Would Vya or the princess struggle among rough soldiers?* He almost laughed. Level 90 professionals didn’t drown in gutters after five years of exile—unless some world will intervened.

*Then I’d know this was a hentai manga world.*

He glanced at the festivities.

Vya, Lilith, and Victoria sat on a raised platform, smiling at the show.

He shook his head.

*If I weren’t a Sage—if I weren’t the squad’s Mage—I’d join those grinning border guards. Just for fun.*

But his presence would stiffen them.

No need to ruin their joy.

Jetri returned to his map, face unreadable.

Hours passed. Noise faded. Lights dimmed.

Only night patrols remained.

“You never liked these gatherings.” Vya’s voice came from behind.

“I never have,” Jetri sighed.

“Too late out. Wear a coat?” Vya leaned on the table beside him, hand resting on his shoulder. Her eyes stayed on the map.

“Hah. Can Sages catch colds?” Jetri chuckled, not looking up.

Vya smiled faintly. “Wear it anyway.”

A warm coat draped over his shoulders.

Jetri looked up, startled.

Vya leaned against the table, gazing down at him.

As if she’d only watch the map when he did.

The dim light, the quiet care—it struck deep.

Suddenly, Vya seemed softer. Fragile, even.

“Thanks.” He looked down, tugging the coat tighter, eyes back on the map.

“No need.”

“Why give me your coat?”

“Someone caught a cold doing this once.”

“Hah… How long ago was that?”

“Long? Only a few years.”

“Years aren’t long? Vya—how long do you think you’ll live?” Jetri teased, still studying the map.

His careless words hit hard.

Vya pressed her lips together.

Yes, it had been five years since graduating from the Valiant Hero Academy. How many five-year stretches did one life have?

Years... such a long time.

"Truly a long time," Richard murmured.

The magelight remained steady, but the icy wind outside kept rattling the wooden cabin’s windows.

Perhaps it was the contrast of this warmth.

Jetri suddenly felt a wave of relaxation and comfort wash over him.

"I’ll nap first…" He yawned.

"Go ahead." Vya smiled, watching him rise and amble slowly toward the bed.

"Goodnight, Vya."

"Goodnight, Chad."

Hm?

Hm…

Jetri’s eyelids grew heavy. He drifted off in moments.

Listening to his steady breathing, the warmth in Vya’s expression slowly drained away.

She glanced back at the map.

Her finger traced the same spot Richard had just touched.

*Richard Jetri…*

*Why do you trust me so completely?*

Vya let out a long, quiet sigh.

She extinguished the magelight.

Silence filled the room.

Richard woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the window.

He blinked open sleep-crusted eyes.

His brain froze the instant they focused.

Vya’s peaceful sleeping face hovered right before him.

Her long lashes fluttered gently; her breaths were soft and even.

Sunlight flooded the room, bright and clear.

"Jetri?" A knock sounded at the door. "Breakfast?"

It was Victoria.

Before Richard could react, Vya’s eyes fluttered open too.

Golden irises clearly reflected Richard’s face.

Vya smiled lazily. "Morning."

Her voice was drowsy, tinged with innocent sweetness.

Though her tone remained softly androgynous, today Richard felt Vya was exceptionally feminine.

"M-morning…" Richard fumbled, unsettled. Something about Vya felt different.

But he couldn’t pinpoint what.

Only this:

She was even more heart-flutteringly captivating.