"Hmm..."
In the midst of a light and satisfied sigh, the strange calls and tugs in the mind of the Crimson Witch finally dissipated in a rare moment of calm, allowing her to sway her hair comfortably and, with a flushed face, bend down to leave a moist kiss mark on Murphy's forehead.
Then she got up to go freshen up, but Murphy reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently pulling Triss, the Grand Duke, to lie beside him, shedding her usual coldness and solemnity like a docile cat curling up.
The two embraced each other like that, enjoying a moment of peace and warmth after the great battle.
The bedroom that once belonged to Salockdale was now a mess, fully proving how terrifying the Crimson Witch was in a berserk state, and it was truly impressive that Mr. Murphy managed to fight her to a draw.
"Can you still hear that voice?"
Murphy asked softly.
