episode_0033

Amid the circle gathered around Arina, it was Daniel who broke the stifling silence and spoke first.

“Noona! Are you planning to leave us behind?”

“Leave you behind? The plan was always to part ways here from the start.”

“But the situation’s different now, isn’t it?”

“Nothing’s changed. You just didn’t know the full story.”

Milen, who had been listening with an indifferent expression, chin propped on her hand, finally couldn’t hold back and interjected.

“Is there a way to resolve this?”

“There isn’t. Leona was right. This was a fight we could never win from the beginning.”

‘You can’t win against the world. Right.’

Truer words had never been spoken. Arina wasn’t trying to start a revolution. She had no grand cause to change the world, nor any desire to become its ruler.

All she had was blind hatred and an obsession with revenge. Even if she succeeded, the only fate awaiting Arina—now the world’s enemy—was destruction.

“This isn’t a battle to determine victory or defeat. It’s a choice of how many will die. If that’s the case, minimizing the damage is the best we can do.”

“But Noona! Are you telling us to just stand by and watch?”

“Yes.”

Arina’s reply was simple, her tone almost refreshingly blunt.

“Who are you? The eldest son of the Hight family. I’m not the only one you have to protect.”

Those in high positions bear great responsibility. Reminding Daniel of that, Arina then turned to Ian, who had been unusually quiet.

“Same goes for you. Think of your family.”

“I know.”

His immediate compliance caught Arina off guard. Had he finally grown up? A faint smile touched her lips, relieved.

“Good. I thought you’d be the hardest to convince.”

“If I hadn’t brought the Watchers with me, you wouldn’t have been in danger today. It’s all my fault. My stubbornness. I should give up now.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

—

The next day, an unwelcome guest arrived at Hight Trading Company first thing in the morning.

Klaus, who had come in person, kept his promise—as Arina had expected—not to hold the allies accountable for this incident.

In return, their demand was simple: Arina had to leave the city within three days.

“Three days. That’s quite generous.”

“If you’re not willing to risk the city being reduced to ruins to keep her here, then you’ll have to wait for me to leave Blacksmith.”

At least while she remained in the city, she could rest easy. But Arina had no intention of staying long. Dragging things out would only give her enemies more time to gather.

To prepare for her departure, Arina headed to the blacksmith where she had entrusted the Philosopher’s Stone. Since her broken right arm hadn’t fully healed, the men followed alongside her.

Daniel, who had slipped away briefly, returned with snacks and offered her one.

“Noona, try this.”

A piece of fried chicken slipped neatly into Arina’s mouth since she couldn’t move her hand with the splint.

“Hmm, not bad.”

She chewed naturally, as if this were routine. Ian, watching, frowned in discomfort.

“Isn’t feeding her like that a bit too familiar?”

“Her arm’s injured. Isn’t it obvious? It’s not like this is the first time.”

“Not the first time?”

Well, after traveling together for months, sharing food wasn’t uncommon. But the more she explained, the darker Ian’s expression grew.

“You two really aren’t involved in that way, right?”

“How many times do I have to say it? Daniel likes men. Unlike you, who’s full of ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior motives?!”

“If chasing a woman who isn’t even your lover all the way to a foreign country isn’t ulterior motives, then I don’t know what is!”

“That’s not it! I’ve told you a hundred times—I came to help a friend!”

Ian’s face burned as he retorted, but inwardly, he was startled by Arina’s changes. Teasing him about liking her, casually referring to herself as a woman—

None of this would have happened before. Even her expressions and mannerisms had shifted. To Ian, who remembered her past self, even her walk now seemed oddly alluring, forcing him to steel his resolve.

Daniel, walking ahead, suddenly stopped.

“Noona, we’re at the location you mentioned, but… are you sure this is the right place?”

The shabby building before them was a blacksmith’s workshop. It was hard to believe this place operated in Blacksmith, a city renowned for its master smiths.

“Yes. This is where I placed my order.”

A tattered cloth bearing the shop’s name fluttered in the wind. The windows were so caked with dust that the interior was barely visible. Ian cautiously asked,

“Are you… short on funds?”

Blacksmith was located near the capital. Not only were the weapons of the empire’s knights forged here, but orders poured in from abroad as well—this was the heart of combat equipment.

In a city where business boomed year-round, the fact that this small shop couldn’t even afford maintenance suggested its owner was either a hack or something worse.

“It’s been over half a year since my last order, so I wouldn’t call it thriving. But I didn’t come here because I was broke.”

For some reason, Arina was grinning as she shrugged and stepped inside.

“Old man, you heard that, right? Clean up a bit. Most people will think the same as this guy.”

“Hmph. I have no interest in amateurs who judge a smith’s skill by appearances.”

The blacksmith was an elderly man whose hair was beginning to gray. He answered gruffly, continuing to hammer away at a sword no one would buy.

“Ugh, stubborn as ever. If I didn’t know you, even a high-tier mage like me wouldn’t have come to a place like this.”

Navigating around metal scraps and tools scattered like traps across the floor, Arina dusted off a chair and sat down.

“You know him?” Ian asked.

From the way she made herself at home to her oddly cheerful demeanor, Arina seemed as if she’d stepped into an old friend’s house.

“Fighting the Demon King’s army wears out equipment fast, so I owe this old man a lot. He’s someone I’m grateful to.”

“Hah, and yet you act like a stranger when you’re just here to take weapons and vanish? I wondered why a young lady had shown up.”

“I expected this, but word’s already spread, huh?”

“The blacksmiths must’ve been contacted first. Riel Frost is a woman now, and an official bounty is about to be issued.”

“Figures. They told you not to make anything for me, right? They can’t just let me escape with Blacksmith’s weapons.”

And of course, the person most likely to have taken Riel Frost’s orders was this old man, given their past connection. The shop’s messy floor wasn’t just due to neglect—it bore traces of soldiers searching for any weapons Arina might have commissioned.

“Did they confiscate what I ordered?”

“They didn’t take it, but whether I hand it over is another matter. I’m still a subject of the empire. I’d rather not cross His Majesty.”

“If you were really that kind of person, you’d have become the royal knights’ armorer long ago and lived in luxury.”

The old man had the pride of a blacksmith. His stubbornness—or conviction—was that the weapons he made had to be the best. On this point, he never compromised.

Because of that, he’d lost the position all smiths dreamed of, yet he showed no regret.

“Thanks to that, your work’s painfully slow, and you often ruin pieces by pushing too hard. That’s why you’ve been left behind in Blacksmith, where mass-producing quality weapons is the norm.”

At Arina’s scathing critique, the old man clicked his tongue irritably. But despite her harsh words, she had still commissioned him. Because when he succeeded, his weapons were undeniably the best.

“Where is it? Let me see.”

“That one.”

The old man pointed to the workbench in front of Arina. On it lay not a magic staff embedded with a giant crystal, but a black glove embroidered with golden runes.

Arina picked it up with her fingers, eyes widening.

“This? It’s… not what I imagined. At all.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone can take any form, can’t it? That thing’s already complete. All I could do was improve its portability. That’s why the work finished quickly.”

“I didn’t expect a legendary stone to turn into a scrap of cloth.”

Disappointment colored Arina’s eyes as she slipped on the glove. The cool, weighty sensation of wielding a staff was gone, leaving her feeling oddly empty.

Still, it’s easier to carry around.

“Anyway, that’s what you entrusted to me. Now get out. Don’t drag me into your mess.”

“Fine. Take care, old man.”

This was likely the last time they’d speak like this. With that thought, Arina left the smithy.

Daniel followed, and Ian trailed behind, but the old man stopped him.

“Wait a moment.”

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I had no idea you were such a master.”

“That’s not it. Judging by your hands, you’re clearly a swordsman. Take this.”

The old man held out the sword he’d been tempering earlier.

“Why are you giving this to me…?”

“Just an old man’s intuition. You might need it for what lies ahead.”

“I don’t have the money to pay for a master’s work…”

“No one’s buying it anyway, so just take it. If you use that sword to protect that girl someday, consider the debt paid. She’s one of my few friends.”

—

Before long, night fell. Arina planned to leave the next day, not waiting for the three days Klaus had given her.

Her brief respite was nearly over.

“The stars are out tonight.”

Standing in the courtyard, Arina gazed at the moon when a glass of red fruit wine was offered to her.

“Wine? You’ve got a taste for ambiance.”

Though she preferred beer, it didn’t suit the mood under a beautiful night sky. Arina accepted the glass and lightly clinked it against Ian’s.

The sweet, tart flavor grazed her tongue, its aroma spreading through her mouth, dulling her reason.

Is this what it’s like to get drunk on the atmosphere rather than the drink?

Arina finally voiced the thought she’d held all day.

“Ian. About yesterday.”

“That’s already in the past. You were in danger because of me. I won’t follow you around and make things harder anymore.”

“No. It’s not that…”

At her uncharacteristic hesitation, Ian tilted his head.

“Then what?”

Arina scratched her cheek, eyes still fixed on the moon.

“I wanted to say… thanks. It’s been a while since I felt protected. I used to think being shielded was humiliating. But… with you in front of me, I felt safe.”

Was this also a drunken confession? Arina, borrowing the wine’s courage, laid bare her feelings.

“So… this is my thanks.”

She turned her head, meeting Ian’s eyes. Then she stepped closer to him, where he leaned against the railing.

Mwah.

“Huh?”

Ian’s mind went completely blank.

What… just happened?

Not on the lips, but still—a light kiss on the cheek.

Arina… kissed me?

“Sorry. This is all I can give you for coming all this way for my sake. I know it’s not enough, but it’s all I have.”

Though the reward was beyond anything he’d imagined, Arina lowered her eyes apologetically.

A kiss born of affection and gratitude—not love.

It left him wanting more, but that was fine.

His resolve was already set.

Ian gripped Arina’s shoulders, restraining her as he spoke.

“You’re right. This isn’t enough.”

“Huh?”

—

Milen wandered the lodgings, searching for Ian. She wanted to discuss their next steps—and maybe steal a moment alone.

Carrying a tray of sweets and black tea, she passed through the hall and down the corridor.

“Not here.”

He wasn’t in the kitchen or his room, so the courtyard was the only place left. Through the window, she spotted Ian’s back. Delighted, she called out loudly.

“Ian!”

“Hngh—mm, ah—kch.”

In contrast to her voice, a small, breathy sound reached her ears.

A voice she recognized, yet laced with an unfamiliar, tantalizing tone.

The clouds obscuring the moonlight parted, revealing silver hair that had been hidden in the dark.

There was no mistaking it.

He was kissing her.

There was no mistaking it.

Ian was unilaterally claiming Arina’s lips as she weakly pounded his back in protest.

The man she loved held another woman in his heart.

Knowing that, she couldn’t even scold him as usual, calling him a thieving stray cat.

Milen was a thief. Her skills, honed since childhood, had long surpassed those of her teachers.

She could take anything she wanted.

Stealing, exploiting weaknesses, blackmailing—in these arts, she was a genius.

So why?

Why was the one thing she truly wanted so impossibly out of reach?

Even after calling out so loudly, the two hadn’t noticed her at all.

Milen clenched the tray and quietly turned away.

A whisper of frustration slipped out, unable to be fully suppressed.

“Just wait… I won’t lose!”

—

“Hah… mmph—chu—ah.”

The deep kiss continued until Arina grew lightheaded. At some point, she gave up resisting, praying for Ian to finish quickly.

“Pwah…!”

When Ian finally pulled away, Arina unleashed her pent-up fury.

“You bastard…! When did I ever say you could kiss me?!”

But Ian didn’t even blink, flashing an infuriating smirk.

“Hm? That’s strange. You kissed my cheek without permission first. I just gave you what I thought you wanted.”

“What?!”

Arina glared at him like she wanted to murder him.

What kind of logic is that?!

It was like taking out a gold coin to repay a kindness, only for the other person to rob her of the entire purse.

And then he had the audacity to act like this? Don’t expect me to do anything for you again.

“You perverted bastard! Predator! Forced-kisser!”

“How odd. Most women like this sort of thing.”

“I’m not most women!”

Arina’s face burned crimson, whether from anger or something else, as she panted heavily.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Flipping Ian off over her shoulder, Arina fled as if escaping.