"Hero…"

For the first time, Sylvia saw Kroso’s face flushed crimson all the way to his ears—a strangely flustered sight that left her momentarily speechless.

Had she accidentally raised the Hero’s affection level again? Why else would he so solemnly pledge such a vital vow of protection to her?

Though not her intention, it was precisely what she needed now. Regaining her full strength remained uncertain, and in this altered galgame world where the story had already diverged… who knew how many pitfalls awaited the heroine to experience firsthand?

"Thank you…"

Not refusing his kindness, Sylvia offered her gratitude with quiet sincerity.

Once back in the Holy City, she’d carefully consider how to reward the Hero for his many kindnesses.

And knowing her generosity, the reward would undoubtedly be lavish.

***

"Heave… ho! Heave… ho!"

Across the open plains, a grain convoy—over a thousand laborers and hundreds of elite imperial cavalry—marched bustlingly toward Chernost City.

Most laborers were city criminals marked by tattoos and scars, their burly frames radiating menace.

Toma moved among them, the overpowering stench of sweat doing nothing to dim the noble elegance of his water-blue hair.

Chatty Uncle Luke had been left at the granary. Today demanded bold action—no room for distractions.

The city gates groaned open. As the convoy filed through, Toma drew a deep breath and glanced up at the watchtower. A city defense commander peered down anxiously. Their eyes met. Toma gave a grave, deliberate nod.

The rebellion within the city hung on the verge of eruption.

"Look! What is that?!"

Just as Toma raised his sword to signal, the sky blazed blinding white—as if a miniature sun had plummeted earthward. Scorching, searing light seized every gaze inside and outside the walls.

He turned. The radiance wasn’t the sun.

It was a person.

A girl with vast, pure white wings of light unfurled behind her.

From afar, she glowed with sacred grace, her brilliance outshining the sun itself.

Who…?

Toma stood frozen, awestruck.

Then—within that rushing light—he spotted another familiar silhouette.

A young man flying steadfastly beside her, guarding her like a shield.

Kroso?!

Rubbing his eyes hard, he looked again. Recognition flashed. Relief flooded through him.

The savior he’d been waiting for had arrived—just in time.

***

"My Lord! Disaster! Absolute disaster!"

A butler-like man stumbled into the city lord’s residence, face pale with panic.

"Fear nothing. I already know."

Lord Angus barely glanced up from his reagent vial, frowning slightly.

Aged, silver-streaked hair framed a wrinkled face, yet his dark green eyes gleamed sharp.

The room reeked of murky vapor—inhaling it stirred strange thoughts. The opposite wall, painted pink, bore a large, archaic "Love" character in faded script.

This "Love" alchemy lab was Angus’s sanctuary. No one knew what he brewed… or where the potions went.

"You knew? But—"

The butler faltered under Angus’s icy glare.

"So the Archangel came herself. Will she devour me?" Angus sniffed the new reagent, a blissful smile spreading across his face.

"And General Gene…?"

"My dear butler," Angus set the vial down calmly, "my brother has lain poisoned near death for a month. With the Archangel here, his recovery is certain. Shouldn’t I rejoice?"

The butler fell silent.

*An hour ago, you were frantic about the cavalry hunting the Hero and Archangel…*

His legs buckled. He dropped to his knees, trembling.

"My Lord! I swear—I’ll bear all blame! Just… protect my family afterward!" Tears choked his voice.

"Rise," Angus waved dismissively. "Dismiss every servant and guard. Take your family. Leave Chernost City. The treasury key’s in the lock—take what you dare."

Still in his alchemy robes, Angus stepped out, patted the butler’s shaking shoulder, and walked toward the gate without looking back.

The butler stared after him, stunned. Only when the figure vanished did he scramble up and sprint toward home.

He knew the treasury’s wealth better than anyone.

But now? Not even a mountain of gold could tempt him.

For if Lord Angus’s schemes failed… the Imperial Court and The Church would show no mercy.