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A gray arc traced through the air.

The eerie blade sliced through the void, leaving behind a distorted afterimage, like rain-soaked glass where the blade had passed.

Cut grass blades fluttered in the wind.

Isha’s sword strikes were so swift that they were nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye, yet they made no sound.

The sounds that humans naturally make—the heartbeat, the blood flow, the air splitting with movement—were conspicuously absent in her.

Because of this, Isha’s sword seemed almost formless.

Since the battle began, everything felt surreal, as if in a dream.

Her presence was so faint and indistinct that her position kept slipping away. Even when my neck was nearly severed in an instant, I didn’t realize it until it was too late.

Isha’s figure vanished from sight again. Where would she be next? Behind me? Above? Or perhaps below? My mind and senses couldn’t keep up.

The shadow’s blade struck at us once more.

* * *

At a glance, she seemed a few years younger than Sirien.

Isha was a girl with striking gray hair and vivid green eyes.

Her first impression, if you could call it that, reminded me of a small, skittish animal like a squirrel.

Given that she was the daughter of the guild master, I had expected a fierce, feline-like appearance, but instead, she exuded a gentle and calm aura.

“Hiik...”

The girl shrank back.

Was it because she had been saved just before death? The moment our eyes met, her anxiety surged.

Well, it was a natural reaction. Anyone could panic when they were on the brink of death.

And even more so for a young girl.

I tried to speak in the calmest voice possible, hoping not to startle her further.

“You’re badly hurt. What’s your name?”

Ah, I should have softened my tone more.

It was a mistake. Lately, the only people I had encountered, aside from Sirien, were rough folks, so my usual manner of speaking slipped out.

But perhaps it wasn’t entirely ineffective? The girl with the gray hair slowly revealed her name.

It was the first time I heard the name of a character who would play a significant role in the original story.

“Isha... My name is Isha.”

“Isha? Are you the Isha of the Crescent Moon?”

“I... I didn’t hear you well, but yes, my name is Isha.”

In the original work, Isha held the position of a mid-level boss.

She was known as Isha of the Crescent Moon, the head of the assassin’s guild operating in the heart of the empire.

It was later revealed that she was the silent blade of Razen.

Though she appeared early on and died, she was the villain who came closest to killing the heroine.

In fact, one of the heroine’s reverse harem members, ‘Dershian,’ was pushed to the brink of death by Isha.

At that time, the heroine, Elise, had no means to counter Isha.

In short, she drove both the heroine and the male lead into a corner simultaneously.

The problem was, Isha wasn’t the protagonist of this novel.

If Elise, the heroine, died, the novel would end right there.

So the author didn’t allow Isha to win.

The author chose to make Isha a sacrificial lamb for Dershian’s awakening episode.

In the final moments, Dershian awakened his power and struck down Isha.

From that day forward, Dershian became known as the Sword Saint, and he held Isha in such high regard that he measured every strong opponent against her.

“Let’s start by treating your wounds. One of my companions is on their way over.”

“Do you have any reason to help me?”

“I’m just naturally kind-hearted.”

“Oh, I see...”

Isha avoided my gaze.

I couldn’t see her expression, but I guessed she understood my excuse.

Maybe she accepted it because, in truth, I am kind-hearted.

In the meantime, Sirien approached.

She looked at me, then at Isha, before extending her pale hand.

“I’ll start with the healing. Is this where you’re hurt?”

“If you touch me, your clothes will get stained with blood.”

“I don’t mind.”

Sirien’s divine power flowed over Isha’s wounds.

It was a grand and sacred power. Just as I hadn’t been idle these past four years, Sirien had honed her skills as a saint.

The large wound visibly started to heal. At the same time, Isha’s eyelids seemed to slowly close.

It was the power of repose.

Hibras’s divine power wasn’t well-suited for healing, but once the patient was asleep, its efficiency improved significantly.

It seemed that sleep was considered a form of rest.

“Suddenly, I feel... sleepy...”

“Yes, you’re probably feeling drowsy. It’s okay to sleep. Once you’re well-rested, we’ll talk.”

Sirien placed her hand on Isha’s forehead.

Soon, Isha fell asleep with a peaceful expression, her breathing soft and steady.

* * *

Requitas was a place teeming with crime, so much so that its nickname, the Lawless Zone, wasn’t an exaggeration.

But if every part of the city was dangerous, there would be no customers bringing money to this place.

In the south, where the red-light district was located, the streets that had been bustling during the time of the ruling noble family still maintained a semblance of order.

Though the legitimate noble house had vanished, the people who ruled the city hadn’t disappeared.

No matter who held power in this lawless zone, their goal was always the gold that Requitas attracted.

But without a minimum guarantee of safety, customers wouldn’t come here with their money.

Someone had to maintain order in this city.

In Requitas’s red-light district, it was the criminal organizations that kept the peace.

“Did you settle her in?”

“Yes, I laid her on the bed in that room over there. Just to be safe, I tied her arms loosely. When she wakes up, she’ll understand the situation.”

“Got it.”

We took the sleeping Isha and found lodging in the southern part of Requitas.

We had plenty of money, so there was no need to choose a shabby place.

As a result, the Saint was in high spirits for the first time in a while.

“Oh? Razen! Come lie down on this bed quickly. It’s so soft and comfortable!”

“You’re right. I didn’t expect it to be this nice.”

Sirien sprawled across the large bed, rolling around with a smile that rarely appeared when she was outside.

The pleasure district of Requitas offered mercenaries an experience akin to that of nobility.

Of course, to a real noble, it might seem a bit lacking, even garish, with its excessive opulence bordering on vulgarity.

But mercenaries were accustomed to wallowing in mud, smelling the burnt flesh of their comrades on blood-soaked ramparts.

To them, a bed stuffed with soft cotton, fresh-smelling linens, and a room filled with pleasant scents was nothing short of a sweet dream.

And what of the food they had never tasted before in their lives? The alcohol that actually had flavor instead of a cheap stench, the sweetly doting beauties, and even the drugs that could numb their minds.

These would only be memories lasting a few days, but they were ones that would be etched into their minds for a lifetime.

To them, this was an irresistible temptation.

A mercenary who was submerged in this memory would find themselves returning to this pleasure district every time they had enough money.

“This bed is spacious and big. I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve seen one like this.”

“Really? It seems about the same size as the one I used when I was a child.”

For Sirien, these indulgences seemed to evoke a sense of nostalgia rather than novelty.

It wasn’t like she was experiencing them for the first time; rather, it was as if she was encountering something similar to what she once had.

Still, it didn’t seem likely that Sirien would become lost in this city.

“Hmm, but this pillow isn’t great. It looked fine, but the material isn’t quite right.”

“Do you like the rest?”

“Well, overall, the aesthetic is lacking. It feels like they just plastered everything together without understanding what’s truly beautiful.”

As the young lady of duke house and the saintess of Hibras, the standards of the grand duchess were far too high for a mere inn in Requitas to captivate her.

While I sat on the edge of the bed, Sirien ate grapes beside me, commenting on how nice it was to have such delicious fruit. Her delicate lips curved into a rounded shape.

Smiling softly, Sirien then moved closer to me, leaning against my back.

“Want to try one?”

Her words were phrased as a question, but as usual, Sirien didn’t really care about my opinion.

Her soft fingers brought a grape to my lips.

It was placed in my mouth before I could respond.

She’d always liked sharing snacks like this, so it wasn’t anything new.

But what followed was a little unexpected.

Familiar arms wrapped around me from behind, and it felt as if Sirien’s breath brushed against my back, as though she had buried her face there.

“Why this all of a sudden?”

“Just felt like it. Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s not.”

“I’d prefer if you said I could do as I please at times like this.”

“You can do as you please.”

With a playful yet gentle tone, Sirien chuckled at my response. It was a genuine, unrestrained laugh, the kind she often made back at the castle. Hearing it again was pleasant.

“So, give me a piggyback ride.”

“What?”

“You carried that girl, Isha, so easily. Do you not want to carry me?”

“She was injured, and you’re the one who put her to sleep.”

“So, are you saying no?”

“No, ma’am. Please, climb aboard, Lady Grand Duchess.”

As I got down from the bed and prepared myself, I soon felt her weight settle on my back.

Sirien seemed satisfied, resting her cheek against my shoulder.

When was the last time I gave her a piggyback ride? It was probably on a rainy day, when we were returning to the cave in the sanctuary’s forest.

Compared to then, Sirien had grown a bit taller.

Perhaps her heartbeat had grown louder too, as the steady thumping seemed to reach my ears.

Her warmth, however, remained the same, radiating softly against me.

As I carried her, Sirien’s fingers idly traced circles on my shoulder, her voice lowering as she spoke.

“I just remembered something from when I was little. When I couldn’t sleep, the nursemaid would carry me like this and sing me a lullaby.”

“Do you want me to sing you one too?”

“No, that’s okay. But could you just stay like this for a little longer? At least until I fall asleep.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. After all... you’re still mine. You’re my knight.”

What a thing to say, as if it were anything new.

And so, I continued to carry Sirien around the room until she drifted off to sleep.

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