Ente Isla.
The central Holy Capital.
Dawn was just breaking.
After months of war and negotiation, the remnants of the Fallen had been completely purged. Under the renown and wisdom of the hero Emilia, a newborn order of peace had been painstakingly—but solidly—established. The clouds that once shrouded the land finally lifted, and Ente Isla began to stir with life again.
Emilia shed the holy silver armor that had symbolized the final battle and changed into simple, mobile travel clothes. Her silver hair drifted lightly in the morning breeze. A faint, almost imperceptible fatigue touched her exquisite features, but her blue eyes shone brilliantly as she gazed toward the far eastern horizon, as if she could pierce the distance itself.
"Albert, I'm leaving Ente Isla in your hands."
She turned and spoke solemnly to the armored knight kneeling on one knee behind her.
Albert had chosen to stay, becoming a cornerstone in the defense of this reborn land.
"Rest assured, Emilia-sama! I swear by the honor of the Fourteenth Knight—I will protect the peace you've brought!"
His voice rang clear and firm, his eyes bright with resolve and respect.
Emilia nodded, heartened, and looked to the two companions at her side.
Emeralda, once a high bishop, had put aside her ornate vestments for a plain travel dress. A gentle yet steadfast smile rested on her face as she held a heavy tome in her hands.
Suzuno Kamazuki, her comrade-in-arms, stood poised with a massive war scythe on her back—sharp-eyed and gallant as ever. But when her gaze fell on Emilia, it held trust—and a glimmer of anticipation for the journey ahead.
"Emeralda, Suzuno—ready?" Emilia asked, a subtle urgency in her voice.
"Of course, Emilia-sama," Emeralda replied with a small, warm nod.
"Hmph. I've been itching to see that world that's been living rent-free in your head," Suzuno said.
A flush touched Emilia's cheeks, but she didn't argue. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes; power surged through her. She raised both hands, palms facing, and slowly drew them apart—
Vmmm.
A spatial passage rippling like water and glowing with soft white light opened in front of them. From the far end drifted the distinct din of a modern metropolis.
"Until we meet again, Albert!" Emilia called.
"Take care, Albert!" Emeralda and Suzuno added, bowing.
Albert bowed his head deeply. "May the holy light guide your way home, Emilia-sama!"
Without further hesitation, Emilia stepped into the shimmering passage first. Emeralda and Suzuno followed close behind. The three figures were quickly swallowed by the white glow.
The portal sealed behind them and vanished as if it had never been, leaving Albert alone on the wide plaza before the hall, guarding the peace and hope the hero had left behind.
…
Morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, scattering mottled light across the rumpled bed.
Rei Ao opened his eyes.
There was no trace of drowsiness in the deep black of them—clear and steady as a still pool.
He tilted his head slightly, taking in the scene at his side.
Mafuyu Kirisu was curled against his chest, her long red hair spread messily over the pillow, hiding most of her face, which still carried a lingering flush and the tracks of tears. Her breathing was even, though her long lashes trembled now and then.
On his other side lay Fumino Furuhashi. A few strands of her blue hair clung to her sweat-dampened temple; the refined face that usually carried a bookish air now looked tired.
Her brows knit faintly, as if some dream-borne emotion still tugged at her, and she instinctively burrowed deeper beneath the covers.
Rizu Ogata lay with her back to Rei Ao at the edge of the bed, her petite figure bundled in the quilt so that only a soft crown of hair showed.
She seemed to be sleeping the soundest—but the slight stiffness of her posture gave away the fact that she was "pretending," just like the others.
Rei Ao's mouth curved in a quiet, satisfied, and playful smile as he looked at the three very different women, all now caught in the same tangle of embarrassment and exhaustion because of him. He could feel their uneven heartbeats and the way they were consciously slowing their breathing—still feigning sleep.
Last night had been… intense.
In the end, the three of them and he had dropped their guards under his lead and, with mutual consent, let themselves be swept up together.
The awkwardness and blush that lingered now were only natural aftershocks. He didn't intend to call them out; there was a certain charm in this silent, shared aftertaste.
Suddenly, his brows lifted slightly. His gaze seemed to pass through walls and distance, sensing something.
"Heh… Emilia and the others are back," he murmured, a hint of pleasure in his voice.
Letting go of the lingering warmth of the bed, he sat up with care. The clean lines of his build caught the morning light. For a moment he allowed himself a look at the three sleeping figures—one elegant and mature, one youthful and graceful, one small and delicate—and at the faint traces left by the night.
Then, gently, he drew the covers up for each of them, tucking away those blood-stirring sights. He bent and placed a soft, unmistakable kiss on each smooth forehead.
"Get some good rest," he said, voice low and warm, yet quietly authoritative. "I'll head out first."
With that, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipped on the loungewear scattered on the floor, and left the bedroom that still held the afterglow of the night.
Click.
The door closed softly.
Almost the moment it latched, all three women's eyes flew open. In the morning light, their gazes crashed into one another—still glossy with the wildness of the night, and flaring with fresh, inescapable embarrassment.
Mafuyu's cheeks went scarlet in an instant; mortified, she turned her face aside, wishing she could disappear under the covers. Fumino let out a tiny whimper and covered her burning face with both hands. Rizu, like a startled rabbit, yanked the quilt over her head, leaving only a few brown strands peeking out.
The air went still as stone.
Images from the night—memories that had once obeyed strict lines between a mentor and her now-grown former students—spun through their minds like a lantern reel, dizzying and impossible to ignore.