Vivian’s lips parted again, but her voice caught in her throat, useless, like a fire choking on its own smoke.

Her hand trembled, still half-lifted, fingers curled as if to cast another spell, but they no longer listened to her commands.

The flames that once obeyed her without question, the ones that destroyed both the Pope and the Saintess of Ashes, two major powerhouses, were now hesitant, swirling nervously around her shoulders, dimmer than before.

It wasn’t fear that made her falter.

It wasn’t exhaustion either, though her limbs were growing heavy, and her heart beat unsteadily within her chest like something half-broken and struggling to hold together.

It was the look in his eyes.

Aestrea hadn’t said a word, hadn’t moved from where he stood at the edge of the crater, his boots soaking in blood that wasn’t his, surrounded by melted marble and warped stone.

But something about him was… different.

He felt strangely… absolute.

The kind of power that didn’t shout or scream, didn’t erupt with fireworks or noise. The power that made the world bow just by existing, the power that pressed down on the lungs and made your breath catch without even trying.

Vivian took one slow step backward.

Her foot landed in ash, and the sound it made felt deafening in the silence that hung between them.

And still, he didn’t speak.

His expression remained unchanged, so calm that it was terrifying.

But with a stillness that felt like mourning.

Like disappointment.

And that broke her more than anything else ever could.

“Say something…” she finally managed, her voice hoarse.

“Yell at me… hate me… please…”

Her shoulders shook, her arms falling to her sides.

The Crown above her head, still spinning with voidfire and ancient sun-killing heat, began to flicker, its gravitational pull weakening as her emotions spiraled out of control.

“You must have seen what they did…” she said louder now, her tone brittle, like cracked porcelain just waiting for a final tap to shatter it completely.

“You saw what they tried to do to me. They called me a monster. They tried to erase me like I was nothing.”

She took another step toward him, and her wings curled in close, defensively, like a wounded beast desperate for protection.

“I had no choice…”

Her voice broke on the last word.

“They would’ve killed me.”

She didn’t know if she was trying to justify it to him or to herself.

Aestrea finally moved, but not much.

Just a slight tilt of his head.

Vivian’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.

For a moment, the flames died down entirely around her, flickering out in patches across her body, revealing bare, scorched skin and trembling muscle beneath the cloak of power.

Her hands hung limp now, claws fading back into human nails.

Her wings faltered.

Her voice returned, but softer, shakier, a thread of the girl she used to be before everything went wrong.

“…Do you… hate me?”

The question slipped from her red, luscious lips.

And yet, Aestrea still didn’t reply at all, his eyes narrowed slighly, and then, he took a step forward, just a single one.

And that one step—

Made every shattered nerve in her body scream.

Vivian’s legs finally gave out beneath her.

She dropped to her knees, not out of submission, not because of pain.

But because the weight in her chest had grown too heavy to carry anymore.

And in that moment—

Surrounded by the ruined cathedral, by corpses of saints and cracks in the sky, by the crater that still smoked from her own apocalyptic spell—

She looked up at him, and something inside her cracked.

“…I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Tears slowly welled in her eyes, thick and hot, blurring her vision even as the last of her flames dimmed.

She clenched her teeth, hands curled into fists against the ruined marble. Her shoulders trembled with the force of what she was holding back.

And yet…

She couldn’t stop the tears.

Her vision blurred, her chest tightened painfully, and despite everything, being a monster, a murderer, a half-blood cursed by a god she had never met, her tears fell without mercy.

And suddenly…

Swishh…

She hadn’t even noticed him move.

One second, he had been standing a few feet away, still and unreadable.

The next one, Aestrea, was standing directly in front of her, his boots inches from where she knelt, his silver hair catching the flickering light of her dying flames.

She didn’t dare raise her head, but then… she saw his hand lift.

Slowly.

And her heart lurched in her chest.

She shut her eyes instantly, hard, lips trembling harder now. Her entire body tensed, bracing herself for whatever Aestrea would do.

Whether that was a slap or something else…. she thought that she deserved at least that.

Her face turned slightly, just enough for her cheek to face him.

And her thoughts screamed behind closed eyelids.

Just get it over with. Please. Just end it already.

But what came next was not pain…

It was warmth.

His thumb brushed gently beneath her eye, the pad of his finger featherlight as he wiped away a single tear rolling down her cheek.

The touch was impossibly soft, gentler than anything she’d ever felt.

Her breath hitched again, but this time, from confusion.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, cautiously.

And what she saw made her freeze.

Aestrea, covered in blood and dust, his robes torn at the sleeve, his boots stained with the ash of gods and monsters, his chest still rising and falling unevenly.

There was blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, but he smiled.

And it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

His eyes softened as he tilted his head, strands of silver and black hair falling over his brow, and that impossible power that had made the world bow faded.

The sigils across his body slowly unlit.

The moon-shaped mark that had appeared on her forehead shimmered, then vanished like dust in the wind.

The air no longer cracked with divine pressure.

Only warmth remained.

And with that same faint smile, he finally spoke.

“…Vivian.”

His voice sounded tired and almost too soft to hear.

But to her, it was louder than anything else.

He reached out again, this time cupping her cheek fully, thumb resting beneath her eye.

“It’s fine.”

That was all he said, and it broke her completely.

She didn’t scream, she didn’t wail or collapse dramatically.

No.

Thud!

She just threw herself into his arms, hard, fast, like she had nothing else left. Like every emotion she’d been burying inside for decades surged out all at once.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his back, her face burying into the crook of his neck as her shoulders heaved.

“Sniff… sniff…!”

And finally, she sobbed.

Like a girl who’d just been told her nightmare was over.

Like someone who had finally, finally been forgiven.

Tears soaked into his collar, her claws digging slightly into his back, not to hurt him, but to anchor herself. To make sure he was real, that he was really there.

Aestrea said nothing as he didn’t need to.

He only raised one arm slowly, carefully, and began to stroke her back.

It was a moment that didn’t belong on a battlefield.

And yet, it happened.

Right there, in the middle of ash, ruin, and divine blood.

As they held each other, time seemed to stop.

But somewhere deep within Aestrea’s mind, where his breath grew shallow and his eyes fluttered with exhaustion, something flickered into view, just behind his vision.

A single translucent panel.

[Twin Heat Mana Body’s Divine Ability forcefully activated…]

[Exchanging stored vitality for output…]

[Minus one month of lifespan.]

[Current remaining lifespan: 43 hours.]

And even with those notifications, he didn’t react. He didn’t know if it was because of the Moon’s Serenity passive skill, but he didn’t feel anything looking at that.

His hand only continued to move gently across her back as Vivian clung to him like she was afraid she might fall apart if she let go.

And though his body wanted to collapse… though his limbs felt like lead and his blood no longer obeyed his veins…

He held her, just a little longer, and of course, Vivian didn’t let go of him.

Her face remained buried in Aestrea’s neck, her arms wrapped tight around his chest like she was afraid he’d vanish if she loosened her grip.

Her tears had slowed, but her body still trembled. Every breath she took was shallow, unsteady, hiccupping slightly with leftover sobs.

Step… step…

As soon as the sound of steps reached Aestrea’s ears, his eyes snapped open, scanning his surroundings directly.

“Aestrea…?”

A familiar voice called out to him, making him turn his head to the source.

And there she was.

Ruby.

Her usual graceful appearance had been torn to pieces, her light brown hair matted with dried blood, clinging to her cheeks and temples, her robes slashed open at the sleeves and singed near the hem.

Her left eye was still swollen, and her stance wavered slightly with every step.

Helene was beside her, one arm around Ruby’s back for support, her own robes tattered and dusty, her breathing shallow.

Her eyes were the first to widen.

Aestrea’s gaze softened the moment he saw them.

Despite the blood at the corner of his lips, despite the flickering exhaustion in his silver-black eyes, a familiar twitch curled at the edge of his mouth, a tired smile, barely holding together.

“…Headmistress Ruby. Miss Helene.”

The two women approached carefully, glancing not only at Aestrea but at the broken figure clinging tightly to his chest, Vivian.

Helene’s brows furrowed just a little.

“She… really lost control, didn’t she?” she said carefully.

Aestrea nodded slightly.

“She did.”

Ruby looked over the battlefield, the broken pillars, the space cracks still pulsing like wounds in the sky, the Saintess’s shattered body, Regulus barely breathing in the distance, and her lips parted slightly.

“…How long were you watching?”

Aestrea tilted his head lazily, like a child caught in the act of something troublesome. His answer was as casual as ever.

“…I just got here.”

Helene blinked while Ruby raised an eyebrow.

“I handled the rest of the priests. The correctors. Most of the reinforcements. Pretty much everyone except these two you were fighting… so, you know. The city’s fine. For now.”

A moment passed.

Both Ruby and Helene stared at him in silence.

And then Ruby exhaled the tiniest laugh.

Her shoulders sagged, not from relief, but from that quiet realization that, yes, their brilliant, annoying, overpowered student had just saved the rest of the capital behind their backs while they were fighting for their lives in one corner of it.

She took a step forward and reached out slowly, brushing her fingers along the edge of his ripped sleeve. Her touch was gentle, like she was still afraid he might disappear.

“You idiot…” she whispered.

Then she laughed again, almost sobbing.

“You absolute, beautiful idiot… you really came back at the worst possible moment.”

Aestrea didn’t reply right away.

But his free, trembling hand was softly placed on Ruby’s shoulder, giving it a few weak pats.

Then, with a half-smile, he leaned just slightly closer and murmured:

“…I’m sorry, but…”

He paused for a moment, and then his lips curled up slightly.

“…Your wallet’s about to cry from all the damage I caused.”

Ruby blinked.

Helene looked at him.

And then, despite everything, Ruby let out a short, stunned breath of laughter. She looked at him like she couldn’t decide whether to hit him or hug him.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, wiping her eyes.

But she was smiling now, even through the tears.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep