"Archangel? Did something come to mind?"

Watching the girl’s expression shift instantly ahead of him, Kroso finally felt a weight lift from his chest. Of course the Archangel couldn’t ignore a crisis like this.

Yet her expression was so telling it made him wonder—had he missed some hidden danger? A flicker of tension tightened his chest.

"Wait… Hero, let me think this through a little more."

Unable to answer right away, Sylvia simply raised a hand and gently massaged her temples.

The parchment’s contents were overwhelmingly complex—far beyond anything she recalled from the game’s original plot.

Yes, the Hero was wanted. With absurd charges: theft of The Church’s sacred artifact, treason, and abduction of the Supreme Archangel…

Treason was severe but refutable. Still, the Emperor issuing such a warrant meant he’d already decided to abandon the Hero—a scenario utterly impossible in the original story. Something was deeply wrong.

Then there was the stolen artifact… Sylvia strained to recall any Church-related detail from the game. None fit. The Hero had only just been summoned—he hadn’t even met The Church yet in the original plot! How could this happen?

As for "abducting the Supreme Archangel"—meaning her—it was clearly The Church’s speculation. But pronouncing guilt so readily proved they were preparing to discard her too. After all, the Supreme Archangel must remain immaculate. Now "abducted" by such an "evil" Hero? Any further "incident" would hardly surprise believers.

This was preemptive damage control—to soften the blow for the faithful.

No wonder she’d dreamed of those old monsters. A premonition of crisis?

But it still felt off. If the Hero saving her marked the timeline’s shift… why had the Imperial Court and The Church turned so aggressive? Weren’t they supposed to fear his power?

Bewildered, she glanced at Kroso—only to find him equally tense. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Hero… what exactly happened in that battle?"

After racking her brain, she concluded the anomaly must lie in the clash between the Hero and the Abyss Demon Lord.

Kroso blinked in surprise—he hadn’t expected her to ask. Since he hadn’t explained yet, he paused briefly and gave a concise account.

"Holy Cross Judgment? What is that?!"

Hearing this utterly unfamiliar term—something capable of such devastation, even slaying an Abyss Demon Lord in a sneak attack—Sylvia instantly grew alert.

Was this why The Church no longer feared the Hero? But this didn’t exist in the original game at all! What was happening?

"It’s a forbidden spell secretly developed by The Church—or rather, a powerful consumable artifact. When I prepared to use it, I knew The Church would leverage it to pressure the Imperial Court. But I never expected such a one-sided outcome. I thought His Majesty wouldn’t abandon me so easily."

Watching the thoughtful girl, Kroso held nothing back. He no longer saw Sylvia as an outsider.

After all, they’d shared the most intimate bond. Though he remembered none of it, the startling crimson stains afterward were undeniable.

His fingers unconsciously brushed the Storage Pouch at his waist. After bringing the unconscious girl to this village, he’d hired local women to clean the Archangel’s body. The bloodstained angelic attire she’d changed out of was carefully preserved inside—a silent testament to their first encounter.

If she asked, he’d say it was disposed of. She likely wouldn’t press further.

For the first time, Kroso felt a genuine flicker of attraction toward someone. Had the Empire’s crisis not escalated—and his mentor’s fate remained unknown—he might already be pursuing the Archangel earnestly.

"A forbidden spell… secretly developed?"

Another unknown variable. Sylvia’s brow furrowed. Intuition warned her: every future event would now severely deviate from the original storyline.

This was anything but good news.

"Don’t worry too much, Archangel."

Seeing her unease, Kroso almost reached to gently embrace her delicate frame and comfort her. Halfway through the motion, he caught himself—she wasn’t ready. Casually redirecting his hand, he lifted the parchment from her grasp.

"When you were still unconscious, I truly felt at a loss. But now that you’re awake… I’m confident we can break through this."

Smiling at Sylvia, he summoned a flicker of flame in his palm and reduced the wanted poster to ashes.

"You mean… me? But right now…"

Faced with his unwavering trust, Sylvia offered a bitter smile.

"How can we know without trying? I firmly believe the Archangel’s kindness and compassion can perform a miracle—one that purifies all evil in this world."

Watching her bowed head, shadowed by self-doubt, tenderness swelled in Kroso’s chest. He smoothly dropped to one knee, took her fair, delicate hand, and lavished her with earnest praise.

"Hero…"

Seeing his sincere trust, feeling the room’s heated air, Sylvia felt genuinely moved.

Then—an odd sensation on her palm. She glanced down. Her right hand, resting on her knee, had somehow been gently cradled in Kroso’s hands, softly caressed as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

Her eyes widened.

"What are you *doing*, Hero?!"