The silence that descended upon the clearing after Tsurugi's departure was profound, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird. The evidence of betrayal and retribution lay starkly in the dappled light. From the dense foliage at the edge of the clearing, a figure emerged, his heart hammering against his ribs. It was Cardinal Valerius, the orchestrator of the failed plot. His ornate robes were smudged with dirt, and his face, usually a mask of pious authority, was pale with terror.
He gasped, wiping sweat from his brow. "By the Goddess... I didn't expect the Saintess to possess such power... to obliterate my High Orc..." His mind raced, replaying the crimson warrior's terrifying efficiency. "And that creature in red armor... a power that feels neither holy nor demonic, but something else entirely. Something... systemic." A shiver ran down his spine. "Luckily, I remained hidden. This is a catastrophe, but also an opportunity. The Pope must be informed immediately. The Saintess is compromised, and a new, unknown faction has emerged. He will reward me for this information."
He turned, already composing the report in his head, imagining the Pope's praise. But he had taken only two steps when he froze. Two figures stood blocking his path, having appeared as silently as ghosts.
One was a man with a powerful, well-proportioned build, his hair as red as fire and eyes a piercing green. He wore simple, functional traveler's clothes, but his posture screamed of latent, immense power. The other was slimmer, almost ethereal, with hair the color of fresh snow and calm blue eyes. He possessed a serene beauty that was somehow more intimidating than his companion's obvious strength.
The red-haired man smirked. "Lord Tsurugi guessed correctly. There really was a third person pulling the strings. Isn't that right, Albion?"
The white-haired one, Albion, nodded, his sharp eyes dissecting the Cardinal. "He is Lord Seiji's brother. Such foresight is a given."
Cardinal Valerius's blood ran cold. Lord Tsurugi? Lord Seiji? These were names, titles. They spoke of an organization, a hierarchy. And the auras these two projected... they were the same as the dragons he had seen luring the search parties away, merely condensed into human form. The realization was a bucket of ice water.
"You... you are the dragons..." he stammered, backing away.
Ddraig's smirk widened into a predatory grin. "Alright! Let's finish this quickly. We can't have you running back to your master with tales to tell."
The two of them released their killing intent. It wasn't a wave of malice, but something far more absolute—the calm, dispassionate intent of apex predators removing a nuisance. The air grew heavy, the very light seeming to dim.
Valerius trembled, fumbling for a holy symbol at his neck. "Y-You cannot! The Holy Temple will—"
His plea was cut short. There was no grand battle, no flashy spell. One moment he was standing, the next, a single, unified pulse of raw draconic power—a blend of searing heat and absolute zero—erupted from Ddraig and Albion. It washed over him silently. There was no scream, only a choked gurgle as his body was simultaneously incinerated and frozen, crumbling into a fine, gray dust that scattered on the forest breeze. The loose end was neatly tied.
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In a quiet, comfortably furnished bedroom within Tsurugi's personal quarters in Grimgar, Evelyn's eyelids fluttered open. The first thing she noticed was the absence of pain. The soul-deep agony of having her power ripped away was gone. She felt... whole, if incredibly weary.
She pushed herself up, taking in her surroundings. The room was carved from smooth, dark stone, lit by a softly glowing moss embedded in the ceiling. The furnishings were sparse but well-made—a sturdy bed, a simple desk, a woven rug. There were no windows, but the air was fresh, carrying a faint, earthy scent. It felt safe. Secure.
Then, the memories flooded back. Alice's betrayal, the horrifying sensation of the magic stone, and then... the red figure. The crimson knight who had moved like a vengeful spirit, cutting down her betrayers and catching her as she fell. A strange warmth bloomed in her chest at the memory, mixed with confusion and a dawning horror at the Pope's involvement.
She was so lost in thought, tracing the patterns on the wool blanket, that she didn't hear the door open.
"How are you feeling?"
The voice, unfiltered now, was a calm, deep baritone. It startled her, and she looked up to see the man from the forest. He was no longer clad in the terrifying crimson armor, but in simple, dark trousers and a tunic. He had the same face she had glimpsed—strikingly handsome, with sharp features, but now she could see his eyes were a vibrant, fiery red, and his hair was a shock of silver. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching her with a neutral, assessing expression.
Evelyn's hand flew to her chest. "I... I'm well. Thank you. The pain is gone." She gathered her composure, sitting up straighter. "My name is Evelyn. I am... I was the Saintess of the Holy Temple." The title felt like a lie now.
"Taidosen Tsurugi," he replied, stepping fully into the room but keeping a respectful distance. "Grand Marshal of Grimgar."
"Grimgar?" she asked, her curiosity overriding her fear.
"This place. A sanctuary." He didn't elaborate further. Instead, he gestured for her to continue.
And so, she did. The words tumbled out of her—her humble origins, her unexpected selection as Saintess, the cold reception from the noble-born acolytes like Alice, the Pope's distant, calculating demeanor, and finally, the chilling revelation of the plot to steal her power. "I... I don't understand," she finished, her voice small. "I dedicated my life to the Goddess, to helping people. Why would the head of our faith do such a thing? My faith... it feels broken."
Tsurugi listened in silence, his red eyes never leaving her face. He didn't offer empty platitudes or religious consolation. When she was done, he simply said, "Faith in an ideal is pure. Faith in an institution is often misplaced. You put your faith in the Goddess. They put their faith in power. You didn't break your faith; they broke your trust. There's a difference."
His words were blunt, but they held a strange comfort. They weren't forgiving; they were factual. They acknowledged her pain without patronizing her.
He stood. "Rest. You're safe here. No one will harm you." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Evelyn called out, then blushed at her own impulsiveness. "I... thank you. For saving me."
Tsurugi paused at the door and gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "You were worth saving." Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.
Alone again, Evelyn lay back on the bed, pressing her cool hands to her flushed cheeks. His kindness, his quiet strength, the way his red eyes had held hers with such intensity... it stirred something in her that had nothing to do with divinity and everything to do with a very human heart. A wave of regret washed over her for not finding better words to thank him.
Elsewhere in the fortress, Seiji was reviewing construction plans with Chief Ganz when a Beastman scout approached and saluted.
"Lord Seiji. Lord Tsurugi has returned. He... brought a human woman back with him. A Saintess from the Holy Temple, according to the rumors. How should we handle this?"
Seiji didn't look up from the blueprint of a new aqueduct system. He merely smiled a small, private smile. His little brother, causing trouble as usual.
"Let Tsurugi handle it," Seiji said, his voice calm and sure. "It's his responsibility. He brought her in; he'll manage the consequences. If the problem gets too big for him, then I'll intervene."
He trusted his brother's decision. And if the look he'd seen in Tsurugi's eyes when he'd briefly mentioned the "stray he'd picked up" was any indication, this was a problem his brother was more than willing to handle personally.