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When Sascha woke up the next day, she was once again greeted by a savory aroma. Stepping out of her room, she found Aderton in the middle of cooking.

The living room, which had been cluttered with medicine boxes and medical tools, was now neatly cleaned. Outside the window, in the yard, the bedding that had been drenched in blood and bodily fluids the night before was hanging on the laundry line, occasionally swaying in the breeze.

“You need to rest! Why do you keep finding things to do?”

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Startled, Sascha snatched the cooking utensil from Aderton’s hand. The wooden cutting board toppled over, and the tin ladle clattered noisily to the floor. She grabbed the knot of the apron he was wearing, and the two began to tussle.

“It’s just a meal. Skipping one won’t kill you. And if you needed laundry or cleaning done, you could’ve just woken me up—why do it yourself?”

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“If I don’t at least do this, I’m useless.”

“Useless? What do you mean, useless?”

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Why did a person need to be measured by their usefulness? Did she really seem so heartless that she would make an injured man work and feel like a burden? Sascha’s expression twisted in frustration.

Still clutching the pot he had managed to protect, Aderton muttered dejectedly.

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“I just don’t want to be a freeloading guest who only eats and does nothing. Besides, I woke up early anyway, and just sitting around felt boring.”

So he was exactly the kind of person who liked keeping busy. It made sense—someone who was used to moving around constantly would naturally find lying around all day unbearably dull.

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No matter how much you tried to stop someone like him, he wouldn’t listen. It was better to just keep an eye on him, let him do light tasks, and step in when he started overexerting himself. After organizing her thoughts, Sascha finally raised her hands in surrender.

“Do as you please.”

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As soon as she gave her approval, Aderton’s face brightened. He eagerly seated Sascha at the head of the table and began introducing each dish he had prepared. His passionate explanations were so intense that even the finest restaurant chefs might pale in comparison.

Even though Sascha reacted indifferently, Aderton didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked pleased that she wasn’t cutting him off mid-sentence.

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After finishing her meal, Sascha grabbed her outerwear and sword. As she pulled on her sturdy hiking boots, Aderton handed her a basket. It was a brown picnic basket woven from vines, with a lid that flapped slightly when moved. A small, yellow handkerchief was tied neatly around the handle.

“What’s this?”

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“Lunch. You’re not coming back until evening again, right?”

“What? You—”

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“Have a good trip!”

Just as she was about to start scolding him, Aderton quickly pushed her outside. Sascha found herself abruptly standing in front of her own house, staring in disbelief at the closed door.

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Getting kicked out of her own home—what a ridiculous situation. She let out a sigh and turned on her heel, only now realizing that she was still holding the picnic basket in her left hand.

—Where the hell did it go? Where is it hiding?

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She scoured the area, searching high and low, but couldn’t sense the same presence she had detected before. Had it shot up into the sky or vanished underground? Yet, the sky remained clear and blue, and the ground was undisturbed—not even a single earthworm in sight.

When the sun reached its peak, Sascha decided to pause her search and sat down on a rock. Opening the picnic basket, she found sandwiches, bite-sized pieces of fruit, and neatly cut vegetables inside. The meal itself was ordinary, but the way it was prepared was not.

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Every piece of bread, every ingredient, every fruit, and every vegetable—everything was cut into heart shapes.

The cuts were precise, each heart perfectly intact, without a single jagged edge.

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—Let’s cut it all into cute little hearts!

A lively voice echoed in her mind, clear as day.

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Sascha squeezed her eyes shut and slammed the lid closed.

“Seriously, what a strange guy…”

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Even though it was decorated in a ridiculous way, every detail was filled with care. More than anything, it was packed only with ingredients Sascha enjoyed. How had he gotten so familiar with her preferences in just a few days?

At times, Sascha even wondered if she had known Aderton for much longer than she remembered. That’s how naturally he had integrated into her daily life.

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The reason Aderton’s presence felt so seamless was his sharp awareness. Within just a few days, he had figured out her small habits and secret food preferences—things not even her butler, head maid, or parents had ever noticed. It was almost supernatural.

One day, she asked him how he knew what she liked. Aderton simply claimed it was “a man’s intuition.”

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—I can’t let myself get used to this…

A faint smile had unknowingly formed on her lips as she thought about him, but it quickly dropped. This was bad.

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People say you don’t notice a place once it’s empty, but you can always tell when someone new arrives. He was someone who would leave soon, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that his absence might bother her.

Sascha firmed her resolve once again—she needed to send him away before she started caring too much. Before the beasts came for him.

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Beasts were prideful creatures, easily provoked by humiliation. After their fight with the monstrous bird, they had failed to claim any spoils, so their frustration must have been at its peak. If they were cunning enough to vanish completely, it was impossible to predict their next move.

—It’s too dangerous to stay like this. A beast won’t give up on prey it failed to catch once.

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Trying to shake off her unease, Sascha shoved a sandwich into her mouth and resumed searching the mountains. Even so, she found nothing of note. As the shadows stretched longer between the trees, she had no choice but to descend the dimly lit mountain path.

When she reached the cabin and knocked on the door, hurried footsteps rushed toward her. Aderton swung the door open and greeted her warmly.

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For a brief moment, she swore she could see an invisible tail wagging behind him, like an eager dog waiting for its owner.

“You’re back.”

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“Yeah.”

“For dinner, we have fish stew with mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. I found an old pumpkin stored away in the pantry.”

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Even though Sascha didn’t say much, Aderton chattered on, filling the silence with stories about what he had done while she was gone—what ingredients he had used, how he prepared the meal, and other trivial details.

Instead of talking, Sascha simply nodded along.

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“How was the mountain? Nothing unusual happened?”

“Same as usual. Strangely, not a single beast showed up. Oh, right—I went down to the village for a bit today.”

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“The village?”

The fork in Aderton’s hand hesitated. He suddenly pressed his lips together, looking slightly tense as he waited for what she would say next.

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“Yeah. But there was no doctor.”

“No doctor?”

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“They ran away overnight. Apparently, they were practicing without a license and overcharging patients, and it finally caught up to them.”

“Ah… I see…”

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Despite his words sounding regretful, his face showed no disappointment at all. Instead, he stabbed little holes into his pumpkin pie, the corners of his lips twitching as if he was trying to suppress a grin.

“You seem… oddly happy about this?”

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“N-No, of course not.”

“Really?”

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“Uh… hmm.”

Sascha took a sip of water. What was so amusing about delayed medical treatment?

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“Anyway, I sent a request to the mercenary guild, asking if any groups with a healer could be sent here. But most of them are out on expeditions, so there’s no telling when they’ll be back.”

“I can treat myself.”

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“You still need to see a professional. How’s your wound today? Did you change the bandages?”

“Yes.”

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Aderton stretched out his injured leg, still limping slightly. The blood seeping through the bandages was much lighter than before. Given the lack of proper medicine out here in the mountains, Sascha had been worried his condition would worsen, but it seemed to be improving.

“Good. Anyway, I got everything you said you needed, so eat first and check them afterward.”

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“Alright.”

After unpacking and checking the supplies, Aderton beamed. With these ingredients, he could make delicious meals for at least another day or two. Sascha, unimpressed, scolded him to focus on the medicine instead.

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“Shouldn’t you worry about taking care of yourself first? Why do you care so much about what others eat?” She shook her head, laughing at his eccentricity.

Days passed, yet the mercenary group with a healer never arrived in the small, insignificant village. There was still no sign of the beasts either, meaning no progress in the search.

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However, as Aderton’s stay stretched longer, daily life itself began to change.

The first noticeable change was the cabin. The old wooden lodge, once filled with the musty scent of sawdust, now smelled as fresh as a flower shop. The dusty furniture gleamed, and the neglected dishes—once buried in the back of the shelves—were constantly in use, never returning to their forgotten corners. What once felt like an abandoned house had turned into a warm, cozy home.

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The division of labor also changed. Household chores became Aderton’s responsibility, while outdoor tasks fell to Sascha. After all, she couldn’t let an injured guest do the hard labor.

Still, Aderton grew sullen whenever Sascha carried three heavy water buckets balanced over her shoulders. He was clearly distressed at the thought of her working so hard because of him.

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But Sascha had been strong since childhood, easily besting full-grown men in arm wrestling. After becoming a swordmaster, her strength had only increased—no one ever worried about her capabilities. Yet, for the first time, someone treated her as fragile.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, but strangely, not an unpleasant one. So she didn’t bother correcting him.

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With their daily routine becoming more structured, Sascha’s body also changed.

During the war, she had lived in constant tension, unable to eat or relieve herself properly. Even after slaying the evil dragon, her cycle had yet to return.

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But now, with regular meals and rest, her long-lost rhythm came back.

The sudden pain from it left her bedridden.

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Aderton, as if he had been expecting it, brought her warm tea and a slice of cake.

“I’m fine. I just need to sleep it off,” she grumbled, feeling embarrassed.

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Aderton merely smiled knowingly and sliced the cake with a fork, offering her a bite.

“Sweet things are the best remedy when you’re in pain.”

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The milk cake had a rich, creamy aroma. As Sascha savored its sweetness, the discomfort seemed to ease, just as Aderton had said. She nodded.

“When you’re feeling better, I’ll make you something even tastier. Just tell me what you want.”

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“As if I’d make demands.”

“Sascha, do you really think I wouldn’t grant your wishes if you asked?”

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Aderton grinned mischievously. His confident smile was almost devious.

“I really am getting spoiled here… Though I suppose it’s not a bad thing. I never thought I’d live to see a child, after all.”

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“A child?”

“The doctor said it’d be difficult for me. That I should give up on a woman’s happiness.”

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Sascha spoke as if it were a trivial fact. She had already come to terms with it long ago—when she first took up the sword. In her mind, it was a small price to pay for slaying the dragon.

However, Aderton’s face turned ice-cold.

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“…Who was it?”

“Hm?”

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“The doctor. Do you remember their name? What color was their hair? Were they short or tall? Their age, gender? At least tell me where they practiced.”

The barrage of questions came without pause, leaving Sascha momentarily stunned.

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“Why do you care?”

“I want to know which so-called doctor dared to spout such nonsense.”

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Though his lips curved into a smile, his eyes gleamed with something dangerously sharp.

In his grip, the cup he was holding had begun to crack. If she had given a name, he looked ready to chase them to the ends of the continent and make them pay.

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“It was a long time ago. I don’t even remember.” She shook her head.

Aderton sighed, clearly disappointed.

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“For a doctor to utter such reckless words… Someone like that deserves to be condemned. And what kind of absurdity is that? Since when was having a child the only measure of happiness? There are plenty of people who live fulfilling lives without them.”

His anger didn’t subside. He continued ranting, unable to let it go.

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He knew medicine, understood herbs—was he really a doctor himself? The way he spoke, citing technical terms and principles, reminded her of the prestigious physicians in the imperial palace.

As Sascha quietly listened to Aderton’s words, her head grew heavier. The tea must have had pain-relieving effects because as the ache dulled, drowsiness took over.

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Her blinks became slow and languid as she leaned against the headboard.

Seeing her nodding off, Aderton gently laid her down and pulled the blanket up to her neck.

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She stirred slightly, shifting once or twice, but soon, she was completely still.

Her breathing evened out, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She was in such a deep sleep that she wouldn’t have noticed if someone carried her away.

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Watching her for a moment, Aderton quietly closed the door.

“Sleep well.”

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Despite the small commotion earlier, it had been yet another peaceful day.

* * *

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In her dream, Sascha stood in a desolate field. The earth was blackened and scarred, littered with broken spears and arrows. A sharp gust of wind carried the metallic scent of blood through the air.

One by one, soldiers clad in familiar armor approached her from behind. They were her old comrades—the ones who had fought beside her in the subjugation force. Their heavy armor clanked as they moved.

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—Sascha, you look good these days. Something happened?

—Something? Who knows.

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Had there ever been a time when she truly looked “good”?

Curious, Sascha glanced at her reflection in a puddle.

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Now that she thought about it, she had been smiling a lot lately. Sleeping well, eating good food—all because of Aderton. That fool…

Was she happy?

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Maybe. Ever since Aderton arrived, her dull, monotonous days had changed.

As if sensing her thoughts, the soldiers began removing their helmets one by one.

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Beneath the steel, their faces were grotesque. Skin peeled away, blood streaming down their ruined features. Some had empty sockets where their eyes should have been, hollow and black. A skull, half-melted and clinging to scorched flesh, let out a piercing scream.

—Happy? Why?

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—You shouldn’t be. Not if you’re human.

—You don’t deserve it.

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The voices of the dead swarmed her, pressing down on her body with their accusations. Each voice was different, but their condemnation was the same.

—After all, you were the only one who survived.

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“———!”

Sascha jolted awake, her breath caught in her throat.

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Tears streaked silently down her cheeks, and cold sweat soaked her back and forehead. Even as she covered her ears, their voices lingered, refusing to fade. Her chest heaved as she struggled for air.

Between her gasping breaths, she caught a familiar scent.

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A sharp fragrance, lingering in the air.

She had smelled it before—usually at night, just before she fell asleep.

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Last night, the night before that… It had been there all along.

“Sascha? Are you awake?”

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Hearing the rustling in her room, Aderton limped in, his expression filled with concern.

In his hands, he held an unfamiliar object.

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“What’s that?”

As soon as she motioned toward it, Aderton quickly hid it behind his back. But it was too late—she had already seen it.

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Sascha extended her hand.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly.

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“Give it to me. What is it?”

She didn’t lower her arm, making it clear she wouldn’t back down. Feigning weakness, she gently swayed her arm, as if too exhausted to hold it up any longer. Aderton sighed, reluctant, but eventually placed the item in her palm. His hesitant hands made it obvious—he didn’t want to hand it over.

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Sascha examined the object.

It was a simple candle.

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Handmade, uneven, and imperfect in color.

Bringing it closer to her nose, she recognized the scent immediately.

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The same one that had filled her room night after night.

“Why do you have this?” she asked.

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“You kept having trouble sleeping, so I started lighting it. Supposedly, it helps with deep sleep.”

“Trouble sleeping? Sometimes?”

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Sascha let out a dry laugh. The faint curve of her lips was anything but amused.

“Liar. It wasn’t ‘sometimes’—it was often.”

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Aderton remained silent.

“…”

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“Was it like this every night?”

Aderton didn’t answer right away. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his lips parting slightly as if to deny it, but no words came. After a long silence, he suddenly spoke in an overly bright voice, as if nothing had happened. “Oh, aren’t you curious how I made this candle? There’s a rare herb that only grows near certain springs—”

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“Aderton.”

Sascha’s voice was quiet, but something in her tone made him freeze. She rarely spoke so softly, and it carried a weight that left no room for avoidance.

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“…I’m sorry. I want to be alone.”

He hesitated, unwilling to leave, but when she repeated herself, he had no choice but to listen. Even as he turned to go, he kept glancing back, reluctant to take his eyes off her. “If you need anything, call for me.”

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Once Aderton left, Sascha curled up on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. She pulled the blanket over her head, trying to shut out the world. The room was empty, yet no matter how hard she covered her ears, the voices still reached her.

—The hero. The hero Sascha. The hero who slew the evil dragon.

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She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to remember. What did those words even mean? Victory hadn’t been hers alone, yet she was the only one left alive.

Kalceus had been a dragon that lived deep in the northern mountains. It had once remained in its cave, undisturbed, but one day, it began gathering monsters, summoning them to its side. At first, no one took notice. By the time they did, it was too late. The creature had amassed an army, stretching its influence across the land, and when it finally set its sights on human territory, nothing could stop it. The northern lord had been the first to flee, abandoning his people as he begged the emperor for aid. The empire sent army after army, but not a single one returned victorious. Soon, even the emperor himself had abandoned the north, retreating south to save himself.

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Sascha had been left with nothing after Kalceus took her parents. There was nowhere left to run, no reason to flee. So she took up her sword and fought.

Word of a lone knight defeating monsters spread quickly. Warriors from across the land sought her out, and together, they formed the subjugation force. As the world crumbled, they became the last beacon of hope. Wherever they went, people welcomed them, sharing what little food they had, offering shelter, and calling them saviors. Even some of the monsters, sensing Sascha’s presence, would lower their heads in respect. Some chose to fight alongside them, forging contracts with humans to join the cause.

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Not everyone trusted them. Some of Sascha’s comrades viewed the monsters with suspicion, but she had been firm—if they were willing to fight, she would accept them.

She shouldn’t have. At the very least, she should have trusted her comrades’ instincts.

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Their victories had come from accepting everyone. But their downfall had come for the same reason.

During the final battle, some of the warlocks and monsters in their ranks betrayed them. Their reasoning was simple: if Kalceus won, they feared the consequences of staying on the losing side. Sascha’s forces hesitated in confusion as former allies either fled or turned against them. But she had no time to hesitate.

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Before her, Kalceus and its minions. Behind her, the traitors. Her comrades were dying, and she couldn’t stop. There was no time to grieve, no time to mourn. She fought and fought, cutting down countless enemies until, at last, Kalceus was the only one left standing. Their battle lasted for ten days, a grueling clash of strength and endurance. When it was finally over, Sascha stood victorious, Kalceus’s severed head at her feet.

Without rest, she rode straight to the capital, carrying the dragon’s head with her. When she presented it to the emperor, the people erupted in cheers, praising her as the hero who had slain the great evil. The emperor rewarded her with gold and jewels, calling her the pride of the empire.

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But none of it mattered. The battle had not been hers alone. And yet, she was the only one who remained.

Sascha refused all of it—the riches, the glory, the honor of being a hero. Instead of living the rest of her life in luxury, she spent her years hunting down the remnants of Kalceus’s forces and the traitors who had fled during the final battle.

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She had no idea how much time had passed before her vengeance was complete. One by one, the warlocks and monsters who had betrayed the subjugation force fell by her hand. Kalceus’s remaining followers were nearly wiped out as well. But despite having defeated every last enemy, the emptiness inside her remained. It was not the feeling a hero should have—the kind who protected the weak and fought for justice. Caught between her ideals and reality, she had used the excuse of “eliminating the last remnants” to settle in the northern mountains, far away from the world.

The guilt of making the wrong choices, of watching her comrades die because of her misjudgment, had never stopped weighing on her. And yet, why had she forgotten about it lately? Was it because of the candles that chased away her nightmares? Because of the warm meals and peaceful nights?

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No. It was because of Aderton.

Sascha ran a hand down her face. Maybe that was why she had been so wary of him when they first met. Some part of her must have instinctively known that he would change her, that he would unravel the life she had clung to. That was why she had gone to such ridiculous lengths to push him away. She didn’t want peace. She didn’t want to forget.

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But even in stories, it wasn’t the wind that made the traveler remove his cloak—it was the warmth of the sun. In the end, Sascha had succumbed to Aderton’s kindness. The sharp edges of her resolve had dulled, and she had grown accustomed to the comfort he provided.

Was that really okay?

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Could she continue living like this?

What did she even want?

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The answer didn’t come easily, no matter how hard she thought about it.

As she wrestled with her thoughts, the door creaked open. She didn’t notice—her view was still blocked by the blanket she had wrapped herself in.

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A moment later, the covers shifted slightly, revealing a tray placed beside her. A slice of cake, a teacup, and a small pot of tea. Through the small gap in the fabric, a familiar voice drifted in.

“I wanted to drink tea, but it felt lonely.”

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She remained silent.

“Will you join me?”

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Still, she didn’t answer.

Aderton didn’t comment on the tear-streaked face half-hidden in the covers. Instead, he shamelessly settled beside her, making it clear that he had no intention of leaving. She sighed. There was no point in telling him to go—if there was one thing she had learned about him, it was that his stubbornness was impossible to break. His chin was held high, his eyes glinting with determination. He wasn’t going anywhere.

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Aderton scooped up a large piece of cake with his fork. It was almost too big to eat in one bite. But instead of bringing it to his own mouth, he held it up toward her.

“Sweet things make you feel better. Say ah~.”

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She stared at him.

“My arm hurts.”

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Still, she said nothing.

 

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TL/N: UPDATING CUZ YOU GUYS WANTED IT!!! But let me warn you guys in advance THIS IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK THIS NOVEL IS. The things this novel is gonna pull are hilarious… And if I see you guys giving me bad reviews on NU then mark my words I’m gonna throw rocks through your windows