HPV 74

The tense standoff quickly broke.

They couldn’t very well keep travelers standing in the cold any longer.

Our group was shown to rooms inside the inner castle. Banwes still carried me on his back as he followed us into the heavily guarded inner halls.

The rooms were not excessively luxurious, but they were clean—five rooms in total.

Considering our individual statuses, the High Priest must have been enduring the slight discomfort for the sake of the group’s special circumstances.

But to me, it felt like an extravagant treatment.

However, even within our group, not everyone was treated equally.

There were six of us, but only five rooms.

The lord of the castle insisted that Banwes must not have a room to himself, and that he share with his guarantor.

‘…But… there is no official guarantor.’

I lowered my head slightly.

How irresponsible and foolish of me—to suddenly get flustered and blush in the middle of the hallway.

Yurichen, who otherwise accepted sharing a room like any ordinary priest, firmly objected this time.

“No. He does not require a guarantor. Please prepare a separate room for him.”

The High Priest and the castle lord exchanged a few rapid words.

Though both seemed composed and formal outwardly, the look they shared was anything but friendly.

The Lord of Gerenique Castle—a marquis by title.

A warrior among warriors, and ruler of the monster-infested North.

Naturally, he did not mesh well with the leaders of the Gaioh Temple.

To him, the priests from the peaceful Central lands were just soft-tongued men of empty words.

To put it bluntly, this was a clash of pride.

They were only tolerating one another now for the sake of defeating the unprecedented enemy—the demon-possessed Black Dragon.

Moreover, Yurichen, though a High Priest, was still very young.

An evening primrose in a pot, untouched by the world outside the capital.

Having lived self-sufficiently, he was neither particularly sociable nor flexible.

If he clashed with the lord here, he would only end up exhausting himself.

I tugged firmly at Banwes’s sleeve.

Banwes bent low toward me, creating a small space between us, barely a handspan apart.

“Just say you’ll share a room,”

I whispered, even lower, noticing a few people watching us.

“I feel safer when you’re nearby…”

The man wore his mask, so I couldn’t read his expression.

But after a moment of silence, he finally spoke:

“I will share a room.”

Each of us went to our assigned rooms, changed out of our travel-worn clothes, and rested from the long journey.

Banwes was the first to change.

The broad, bare expanse of his back filled my view.

The muscles built up across his shoulders and even densely packed around his sides didn’t look frightening—they inspired a kind of shivering awe.

Just looking at him made me unbearably hot; I swallowed hard.

His back muscles flexed once, rippling like waves, and the muscles just above his hips twitched along with them.

As he slung fresh clothes over his shoulder and turned back toward me—

“……!”

I quickly dropped my gaze like a thief caught in the act.

I should be used to this by now, after months together.

Why was it still so provocative?

Now it was my turn to change.

I dragged my feet, pulling out a new outfit from my bag and spreading it on the bed.

Hesitating, I spoke:

“Look away for a bit.”

His gaze felt far too raw against my skin as I reached to undo my buttons.

It was unbearably embarrassing to show my bare skin.

Before, I could strip without a second thought, even bathe together without issue.

…What on earth had I been thinking back then?

“You saw me too,” he said.

“You didn’t tell me not to look,” I shot back. I was always better at nitpicking words.

Banwes shut his mouth, as if finding it troublesome to argue.

“And I,” I continued, “didn’t stare obsessively like you are now. I just saw because you were there…”

I regretted it the moment I said it.

What kind of pathetic excuse was that?

Why even say anything at all?

He turned his back to me, seeming reluctant.

I kept watch, just in case he peeked over, and hurriedly changed—slipping on my shirt and pulling my trousers over my pale skin—then collapsed onto the bed.

Ah, I just wanted to lie down and sleep.

But just as I was about to stretch out and rest, a thought struck me.

“About that ‘correction’ or whatever you call it… don’t do that here, okay?”

My cheeks burned even hotter.

Banwes’s brow twitched slightly.

“I haven’t even done it yet, nor said I would,” he replied.

“Just say you understand!”

But I didn’t stop there. For the first time in months, I insisted on setting clear boundaries.

“And… don’t come over to this side.”

“Even if it’s unavoidable?”

It wasn’t like he had to correct anything here, nor was there any danger.

If there was an unavoidable reason…My heart dropped.

I shouted to chase away the memories flashing through my mind:

“Ah—don’t even mention that!”

Banwes suddenly averted his gaze from my face.

It was a strange reaction—like he had just seen something so indecent he couldn’t bear to look.

That such a large man could show such a boyish response…

It made the day feel impossibly long.

The real problem was, it made me happy.

***

There was only a week left until the prophesied time when the Black Dragon would awaken.

Monster hordes were descending from the north.

Before they could even reach the castle walls, spells were cast, arrows flew, and soldiers charged out through the opened gates.

Countless forces were gathered here, their territories clashing within this single fortress.

The massive stronghold felt almost too small to contain them all.

When Penzey spotted his fellow mages, his face twisted as if he had just bitten into a stone.

“Penzey? How long has it been since I’ve seen that face?”

“Who knows, maybe we crossed paths by accident in a past life…”

Though he clearly didn’t want to acknowledge them, the clamor in the castle never ceased.

“You’re just in time! We were dying out here! I thought my brain was going to explode! You take over the central magic now.”

“Idiot, he’s here to slay the Black Dragon.”

At the same time, Paronai stood gaping like someone who had just walked into paradise.

“Sir Ian Hathor of the Celestial Knights…?”

These were the legendary knights he had only heard about from storytellers in his youth, guardians of the sword whose faces bore the depth of countless experiences.

Overcome with excitement, Paronai trailed after them shamelessly, huffing and puffing like an overeager pup.

Perhaps because of his obvious youth and pure, burning admiration, most of them either humored his enthusiastic questions or politely declined.

If one of them had said, “I have ten fingers,” Paronai would have responded with a wide-eyed, “Wow, really?”

The High Priest watched it all from a distance, sipping tea alone on a bench.

At that moment, Penzey brazenly flopped down next to him.

“Is it really alright to leave him like that? Wasn’t he supposed to be a hero?”

His behavior alone was enough to horrify the nearby priests, but Penzey remained utterly shameless, and Yurichen did not stop him.

“That is the very force that shall one day fell the Black Dragon,” the High Priest said calmly.

“A force that’ll probably end up chasing after the Black Dragon asking for a demonstration,” Penzey muttered.

An invisible distance formed around the two of them, a wide circle that none dared breach.

Penzey lounged back against the bench and sneered.

“You know what it means to be seen fraternizing with me in a place like this.”

Despite his insolent grin, his eyes gleamed like a cat’s in the dark.

The High Priest calmly sipped his hot tea.

“And you, too, know what it means to be seen associating with me in front of a crowd of mages.”

For a moment, Penzey almost gave a genuine smile.

“You know,” he said, “I used to be the temple’s problem child too.”

The mages and priests around them could only stare in stunned silence.

In truth, because he had discarded his disguise, the priests didn’t even recognize who Penzey was.

They merely thought some street thug was brazenly pretending to be close with the High Priest. (Which was, in itself, a problem.)

The two misfits spent their time gazing up at the dry sky, finding brief refuge in each other’s rebellious presence.

For now, they entrusted themselves entirely to the special mission of the Oracle, forgetting their original stations.

They were still young, not yet even thirty.

“What are Riarun and Banwes doing?” Penzey asked.

“They’ve holed themselves up in their room and haven’t come out,” the High Priest replied.

With no acquaintances here, and no one to welcome them, staying inside was the safer choice all around.

Paronai approached the two of them, utterly unaware of the scandalized stares he was drawing.

“I peeked in a few times,” he said. “They’re not doing anything inside. They barely even talk. They just… stare at each other.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. But they didn’t look bored at all.”

Far from being bored, they were probably sitting there, silently astonished at how quickly time was slipping away.