"…Because I think I know where Monesa is."
The Princess stared at John for a moment.
Then calmly turned away and resumed her sword practice.
Steel sliced through the night air once more.
"If that's all," she said coldly, "you may leave."
John blinked in disbelief.
"…You don't believe me?"
No response.
He sighed dramatically.
"Am I really that untrustworthy?"
The Princess stopped mid-swing.
"Why are you here, John?"
He smiled slightly.
"Well… I wanted to practice with you."
Her eyes flicked toward him.
"Then where is your sword?"
John laughed softly before pulling a blade from beneath his cloak.
Moonlight flashed against steel.
"Right here."
The Princess lowered into a fighting stance.
"Then don't waste my time."
The clash came instantly.
Steel rang sharply through the silent camp.
John blocked her first strike and immediately countered, forcing her backward half a step.
The Princess's eyes narrowed slightly.
Better than yesterday.
Their swords collided again and again beneath the moonlight.
Neither spoke for several moments.
Only the sound of steel echoed through the night.
Then—
"You're skilled," the Princess admitted while parrying another strike. "Your father trained you well."
John grinned.
"I'll accept the compliment."
Their blades scraped together violently.
"But honestly," he continued, "the way you fight is incredible."
The Princess spun low, forcing him to retreat.
"Flattery won't save you if you make a mistake."
"Good thing I rarely make mistakes."
She attacked again.
Faster this time.
John barely blocked in time.
Interesting.
The battle slowly intensified.
Their movements became sharper.
Cleaner.
More dangerous.
The Princess pressed forward aggressively while John adapted to every attack with unsettling ease.
Then suddenly she asked—
"You never speak about your family."
Their swords locked together.
"What about your mother?"
For the first time—
John hesitated.
It lasted less than a second.
But the Princess noticed.
Then—
CLANG.
One powerful strike knocked the sword from her hand.
Her blade flew across the ground.
The Princess's eyes widened slightly.
Before she could react, John had already stepped forward.
Too close.
Their faces were inches apart.
The Princess froze.
John looked down at her quietly.
Moonlight reflected in her green eyes.
"…Princess," he murmured softly.
Her breath caught.
"Your eyes are beautiful."
The Princess stiffened instantly.
"And your voice…" he continued with a faint smile, "it's calmer than you pretend."
Heat rushed unexpectedly to her face.
John's expression softened slightly.
"…I don't think we should talk about family tonight."
For a moment, neither moved.
Then he stepped back slowly and lowered his sword.
"How about we call this a draw?"
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away into the darkness.
The Princess remained completely still.
Speechless.
Why… did he suddenly feel so distant?
Her gaze slowly lowered toward her fallen sword lying in the grass.
The moon reflected faintly across its silver blade.
And for the first time in a long while—
Her thoughts felt unsettled.
━━━━━━━━━━
The Next Morning
The camp stirred awake beneath pale morning light.
Soldiers prepared supplies while horses were fitted for travel.
A black carriage slowly rolled toward the center of camp before coming to a stop.
The door creaked open.
A man stepped out.
Middle-aged.
Elegant.
Dangerously charming.
Black hair framed sharp features, while mismatched red-and-blue eyes observed the camp calmly. A thin scar stretched across the corner of his lips.
Marco approached with folded arms.
"So," he said casually, "you finally arrived."
The man smiled faintly.
"My apologies for the delay."
Marco laughed.
"The Princess has been waiting for you."
Then his grin widened slightly.
"Though personally, I'm more curious why you're so eager to die."
The man didn't answer.
Marco studied him briefly before turning away.
"Come on."
━━━━━━━━━━
Inside the command tent, the Princess stood beside a table covered in maps while several soldiers awaited orders.
Marco entered first.
"Princess," he said, "the Chosen Angel has arrived."
The Princess looked up slowly.
The moment her eyes landed on the man, the atmosphere shifted.
Cold.
Sharp.
Without a word, she dismissed the soldiers.
The tent emptied immediately.
The mysterious man stepped forward and bowed politely.
The Princess studied him carefully.
"Why?"
The man looked up.
"Princess?"
"Why are you willing to sacrifice yourself?"
Silence lingered briefly before he answered.
"…Is it truly a sacrifice?"
"If you guide us to Monesa," the Princess replied coldly, "the curse will kill you."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You already know that."
The man smiled faintly.
"If my death helps restore humanity… then why should I fear it?"
The Princess crossed her arms.
"You devoted your life to worshipping Monesa."
Her voice remained calm.
"You became a Chosen Angel because of her."
A pause.
"If you survived, you could become something far greater."
Her gaze sharpened.
"So why throw your life away for humanity?"
For the first time, emotion cracked through the man's composure.
"My beloved died because of this curse."
The Princess fell silent.
The man lowered his gaze briefly.
"I want this world freed from it."
His fist clenched tightly.
"I thought… if I devoted myself to Monesa… perhaps one day I could awaken her."
His voice trembled slightly.
"And maybe she could return the person I loved."
Silence filled the tent.
Then the Princess asked quietly—
"How did your beloved die?"
The man's expression darkened.
"A monster."
"What kind?"
"A water-type creature."
Something about his answer felt wrong.
The Princess noticed it immediately.
But she said nothing.
Instead, she turned away.
"You may leave now."
Then she spoke toward Marco.
"Take him to Esabell."
Marco nodded.
"We resume the journey immediately."
As they turned to leave, the Princess spoke once more.
"…Your name."
The man paused.
"Tomasi, Princess."
The Princess repeated it softly.
"Tomasi…"
The man laughed quietly.
"I had a twin brother once."
His smile faded slightly.
"He died at birth."
"So my mother combined both our names together."
For a brief moment, the Princess simply stared at him.
Then—
"You may go."
Tomasi bowed politely before leaving with Marco.
━━━━━━━━━━
As Tomasi stepped outside the tent, his eyes landed on someone nearby.
John.
He sat beside several soldiers, laughing casually as though he didn't belong in a royal expedition at all.
Then suddenly—
John looked up.
Their eyes met.
Silence.
Something unreadable passed between them.
Then Tomasi calmly looked away and continued walking beside Marco.
━━━━━━━━━━
Night fell once more.
Steel clashed beneath the moonlight as the Princess sparred with Marco outside the camp.
Fast.
Precise.
Merciless.
"Why the delay?" the Princess asked while blocking another strike.
Marco pushed her back slightly.
"Replacing dead soldiers took time."
Their blades collided again.
"And adding Tomasi complicated things."
The Princess suddenly stopped attacking.
"…Too convenient."
Marco lowered his sword slightly.
"He surrendered himself willingly."
A pause.
"Says he's doing it for love."
The Princess's eyes darkened faintly.
"Lies often sound beautiful."
Marco smirked.
"You think he's dangerous?"
"I think he's hiding something."
The Princess turned away.
"Watch him carefully."
Marco nodded immediately.
"Understood."
Without another word, the Princess disappeared into her tent.
━━━━━━━━━━
Elsewhere in camp, laughter echoed around the soldiers' fires.
Inside Esabell's tent, however, everything remained quiet.
Knock. Knock.
Esabell looked up from her book.
"…Come in."
John stepped inside with a grin.
"Thank you, Miss Cute Glasses."
Esabell immediately frowned.
"Why are you here?"
"Curiosity."
He sat down casually nearby.
"About gods. About Chosen Angels. About you."
Esabell sighed tiredly and closed her book.
Before she could answer—
A small monster suddenly formed behind her.
Black flames twisted through the air.
John moved instantly.
SLASH.
The creature dissolved into ash before it could even scream.
Silence returned.
Esabell blinked.
"…Oh."
John casually cleaned the blade.
"You're welcome."
Esabell stared at the ashes.
"I've only fought small monsters during stone retrieval missions."
John leaned back slightly.
"So how many god stones do you have?"
Esabell hesitated.
"…Six."
John's brows lifted.
"Out of eight?"
She nodded carefully.
"And where are they kept?"
Esabell immediately narrowed her eyes.
"If you value your life, don't ask that."
John laughed softly.
"Fair enough."
Then his expression turned thoughtful.
"Has the Princess spoken with any of them yet?"
"Not yet," Esabell admitted quietly. "I'm still searching for a safe method."
Her fingers tightened slightly around her book.
"But recovering six stones is already a miracle."
John studied her silently.
"And what do you get in return for all this?"
Esabell froze.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
"…Anything else?" she asked quietly. "Or can you leave now?"
John blinked.
"…Did I say something wrong?"
Esabell remained silent.
For once, John lost his usual playful expression.
"…Right."
He looked away briefly before forcing a small smile.
"Then let's change the topic."
Esabell gave a reluctant nod.
Suddenly—
The tent flap burst open.
The Princess stood there.
Cold fury radiated from her presence.
"How dare you."
The entire tent fell silent.
...CHAPTER 4ENDS...