episode_0063

People on the street—women, children, the elderly—couldn’t help but stare as they passed by. Even men glanced at him with startled expressions. Milen, walking beside him, unknowingly straightened her shoulders, her pride swelling.

His golden hair shimmered brightly, and his crimson eyes captivated onlookers. But above all, his strikingly handsome features and godlike proportions made everything else seem secondary. The man beside her, Ian Felix, was nothing short of perfect—even by his own standards.

But looks weren’t his only asset. Though his baronial title placed him low on the noble hierarchy, he was still nobility. His abilities? Unquestionably top-tier, surpassing even Milen’s, placing him among the elite adventurers.

His personality? Loyal enough to stand against a Hero’s party for a friend, and endlessly gentle to those he cared for. The fact that she wasn’t the object of his affection was infuriating, but the devotion he showed to one woman alone made it clear—whoever earned his love would feel like they owned the world.

That was why Milen had stubbornly clung to him, even when pushed aside by Arina. No matter how long it took, if she could finally win Ian’s heart, everything would be hers.

As if warning other women not to dare interfere, Milen tightened her grip on Ian’s arm and leaned against him, her face radiant with happiness.

Meanwhile, Ian, weighed down by the intensity of her affection, watched her with conflicted emotions. Milen was undeniably alluring—petite, delicate features exuding a mischievous charm, and a well-maintained figure that set men’s hearts aflame. Her glossy ponytail practically begged to be touched. She was a woman any man would be lucky to have.

It almost felt like a waste—her spending her time chasing after him. She could’ve found someone else, lived happily without clinging to him.

But how much longer until he could truly return her feelings? He didn’t know himself. At the very least, it was impossible until Arina returned to Liel Frost. Until then, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Arina completely.

Maybe, after Arina went back, after he truly accepted her as just a friend, after the day came when her image in his mind finally faded—only then could he return Milen’s feelings.

Yet even asking her to wait felt selfish. He’d tried persuading her to move on, but she refused every time, stubbornly clinging to him until the very end.

Her obstinacy frustrated him, but in a twisted way, he saw himself in her. The unrequited love. The refusal to let go.

This strange kinship made it impossible for Ian to push her away entirely, filling him with guilt. Because whenever he imagined it was Arina holding his arm instead, his heart would still race.

—

“Ah, this one’s nice!”

Milen tugged Ian’s sleeve, pulling him toward a store selling accessories—earrings, necklaces, and the like. Nothing extravagant or expensive, but she didn’t care as long as it came from Ian.

“This! I like this!”

She held up a ring adorned with an amethyst as radiant as her eyes.

“Will you put it on me?”

With a shy yet hopeful smile, she extended the ring toward him. Sure, he’d agreed to buy it—but nothing beyond that.

“Sorry. You know I’m not there yet.”

He might’ve said he’d give up, but Ian hadn’t truly let go of Arina. Milen knew that. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she slid the ring onto her own finger.

“Tch. Next time, I’ll get a proposal too.”

—

“Thank you. Please come again~”

After the clerk’s automatic farewell, Arina packed the towels and fabric she’d bought into her bag. Stepping outside, she scanned the area, deciding where to go next.

She spotted a clothing store not far away and was about to head there—until a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Uh, excuse me?”

A man’s voice—unfamiliar, tinged with expectation. This wasn’t uncommon. Arina could guess his intentions instantly.

She turned her head to look at him. He wasn’t bad-looking—probably one of the better-looking men in town. The type overflowing with confidence, used to women fawning over him.

Their eyes met. His pupils dilated instantly. Clearing his throat, he spoke.

“If you’re free, would you like to grab lunch? I know a great place.”

“Why would I do that?”

Normally, Arina at least kept basic etiquette with strangers. But this time? No exceptions. To shake off persistent admirers, playing the cold, unapproachable woman was fastest. And even if that weren’t the case, she had no energy to spare for his ego right now.

“Meeting new people is always fun, isn’t it? I’ll pay, so just—”

“I’m not wasting my time for your amusement.”

Cutting him off, she turned to leave. Startled, he grabbed her wrist.

“Hold on!”

She yanked free. “Let go. You’re irritating me.”

His hand fell, but his lip twitched, pride dented.

“What’s the harm in one meal? I’m not exactly lacking in qualities.”

“No clue where you’re getting that confidence.”

Ignoring him, she moved to stride away—until he blocked her path.

“Enough. You’re pissing me off.”

“Who do you think you are? Damn, you’re stuck up.”

Seeing his charm wasn’t working, he abandoned pretense and snapped.

“Your shallow act is obvious. I wouldn’t eat bread with a nobody like you. Now get lost.”

“You fucking bitch!”

He raised a hand, yelling—but Arina didn’t even flinch. Her icy glare alone made him falter.

Shouldn’t she be scared? She’s nothing like normal women. Is she some noble’s daughter?

Her haughty demeanor and sharp tongue suggested he’d made a grave mistake. Swallowing hard, he clenched his jaw and glared.

But that was it. After a tense moment, he lowered his hand and stormed off.

Arina watched his retreating back briefly before turning toward her inn. The encounter had soured her mood—enough that shopping no longer appealed.

Back inside, she headed straight for the counter. The same lecherous clerk from before stiffened at her approach, clearly remembering their last exchange.

“Hot water. You prepared it, right?”

“…Yes.”

His eyebrow twitched at her dismissive tone, but he didn’t protest. Ignoring him, she fetched the water and locked herself in her room.

Without hesitation, she stripped off her dress. As it slid to the floor, she peeled off her underwear, revealing sticky traces of blood streaking down her thighs.

Her period had started days ago. Not wanting the others to know, she’d chosen to stay alone. Even now, the sight of blood—painless yet ever-present—felt alien despite her familiarity.

With a damp cloth, she cleaned herself methodically, starting with her face. Without a bath, this was the best she could manage.

After finishing, she washed her hands thoroughly—she still had one crucial task left.

Just to be safe, she pressed an ear to the door, ensuring no one was nearby, before climbing onto the bed.

Laying a wet towel beneath her, she positioned herself carefully—then let her fingers press against her core.

“Ngh…!”

A moan escaped the instant she touched herself. Years of sensory-dulling magic had made her forget just how sensitive her body was.

So lewd.

Even compared to other women, hers was a body crafted for pleasure. Years of denying herself meant even the slightest stimulation could send her tumbling over the edge.

“This is dangerous…”

But she couldn’t stop. Residual blood needed cleaning—unless she wanted ruined underwear. Though she could endure it, the thought of being caught—especially by Ian—filled her with unbearable shame.

“Hah…♡”

The moment her finger slipped inside, a sweet gasp escaped. But she wasn’t done—there was still blood deeper within.

“Haaah…”

She pushed further in gradually.

“Fuuh…”

Pausing midway as a wave of pleasure threatened to overwhelm her—

“Hyah♡”

—only to accidentally brush a dangerous spot, sending her crashing into climax instantly. Collapsing forward, her fluids soaked into the towel beneath her.

“Haah—Dammit…!”

Frustrating. It felt too good—infuriatingly so.

Since she’d already climaxed, caution was pointless. She wasn’t even sure if this was the right method—normally, magic made things effortless, and after losing her memories, embarrassment kept her from asking.

So instead, she started roughly thrusting her fingers in and out, purging the remaining blood.

“Hyaang♡”

“Fuaah♡ Ah—Haaa♡”

“Hahk♡ Hahk♡”

Each thrust brought her to another peak. By the time she finished, she lay utterly spent, panting and unable to move.

“Fuck… Why does it feel this good…?♡”

Dazed, heat fogging her mind, her fingers twitched near her entrance. The blood was gone—there was no further reason to continue.

But the switch had already been flipped.

“…J-Just a bit more…♡”

Would indulging a little be so bad? After years of restraint, surely one day of self-relief was fine.

Just as pleasure-drunk fingers dipped in again—

Click.

The sound of the door unlocking pierced her ears.