At the edge of the swamp, the miasma was thick.
Xue Yin carried Jin on her back, her footsteps light and unsteady.
Although Jin had regained consciousness, his face was as pale as paper.
His mind drifted between clarity and chaos, and every breath he took burned.
He desperately needed rest.
Ailia followed quickly.
Though her holy emblem had dimmed, her eyes remained clear and determined, even as a piercing wound on her shoulder blade made her stagger.
“Xue Yin, hold on a little longer. There is an abandoned outpost ahead.”
Before the words could fully leave her mouth, golden flames suddenly ignited in the fog ahead.
Twenty Horned Demon heavy cavalrymen emerged in formation, their scales gleaming coldly.
In the center, an Ecliptic Gold Beast—looking much like a black leopard—stepped forward, liquid golden flames flowing down its back.
Seated upon it was a man with cascading wine-red hair.
His crimson pupils pierced through the miasma, locking onto the three of them.
It was Ryan Marces.
“You three,” he said, his voice lazy but every word crystal clear.
“If you go any further, you will be in Asmodeus’s territory. In your current state, you will not make it through.”
Xue Yin pulled Jin tighter against her.
Her legs trembled from overextending her life force, yet she remained vigilant.
“Who are you?”
“The Lord of the Seventh Ring’s Amber Corridor, Ryan Marces.”
He dismounted the beast with the grace of a cat.
His eyes shimmered behind a crystal monocle.
“I visited the battlefield from last night. I am well aware of what happened there.”
His gaze shifted to Ailia, his crimson eyes seemingly peering into her very soul.
“And you—you are the runaway nun from Moon-glow Fortress, Arya Therne.”
Ailia’s expression hardened.
She instinctively gripped her staff but did not retreat.
“What do you know?”
“I know that you question the Church, yet you remain firm in your heart.”
Ryan smiled and reached into his coat, producing the cracked Crystal Crucifix and handing it back to her.
“I found this on the battlefield. You are very brave, Ailia.”
Ailia took the crucifix, her fingertips trembling at its warm touch.
She straightened her back, forcing herself to stay calm.
“Thank you. But I do not need pity.”
“It is not pity.”
Ryan stared at her with a burning intensity, devoid of any mockery.
“It is attraction. My heart has not stirred in eighty-seven years, but seeing you today for the first time, I knew—I want to marry you.”
The air seemed to freeze.
Xue Yin nearly choked, her face full of disbelief.
“What did you say?!”
Jin leaned against Xue Yin’s shoulder, his voice raspy and weak.
“That is… certainly blunt.”
Ailia’s entire face turned beet red, her heart thumping like a drum.
‘A nun must not feel passion—it is written in the very first chapter of the scriptures.’
But why did the way he looked at her not feel like he was looking at a “tool” or a “traitor,” but rather a person worthy of love?
If anyone else had said those words, it would have been a frivolous joke.
But coming from those crimson eyes, there was an undeniable gravity to them, as if he were stating an ancient law.
“I… I am a nun!” her voice was hurried as her fingers unconsciously rubbed the crack in the crucifix.
“One who serves God… how can I speak of marriage?!”
“God has long been silent,” Ryan said calmly, yet his words landed like a thunderclap.
“You know that better than anyone. The Royal Court used you as a tool, and the Church views you as a traitor—but I simply want to give you a home. Do you believe in love at first sight?”
He looked at the three of them, his gaze sweeping over the lingering black aura behind Jin, Xue Yin’s nearly transparent mana fluctuations, and Ailia’s forced composure.
“You have just survived a great battle. Your mana is depleted, and your wounds have not healed. You are wanted by the three factions of the Human Realm with nowhere to go. Meanwhile, I have territory, troops, and strength—you have no other choice.”
Xue Yin grit her teeth, trying to appear fierce despite her lack of strength.
“Why should we trust you?”
“Because I could report to the Demon Realm’s central command right now and tell them that fugitives from the Human Realm have appeared in my jurisdiction,” Ryan said nonchalantly, as if discussing a trivial matter.
“I could also have let the ‘hounds’ in Asmodeus’s territory take a bite out of you first before swooping in to save you to earn your trust.”
He paused, looking at Ailia with a gentle gaze as his voice softened.
“But I did not do that. Because I do not want to use schemes to have you. I want you to walk into my tea house of your own free will, drink a cup of tea I brewed myself, and then tell me—’Ryan, the sun is beautiful today.'”
Ailia’s eyes grew red.
The man before her was arrogant and overbearing, yet he said, “I am here to protect you.”
“I cannot agree…” she choked out, tears welling in her eyes.
“My faith does not allow it…”
“If faith truly existed, how could it allow you to be insulted?” Ryan asked softly in return.
“If it remains silent, then let me be the one to protect you.”
Xue Yin suddenly spoke, breaking the stalemate.
“Do you really intend to marry her?”
“Yes.”
Ryan nodded, his expression serious.
“When she is willing.”
He turned and waved his hand, and the Horned Demon heavy cavalry parted to create a path.
One of the burly demons dismounted without hesitation, handing the reins to Xue Yin before silently retreating to the back of the line to walk.
“Come.”
Ryan remounted his beast and held his hand out to Ailia, his eyes sincere.
“In my territory, there is hot water, clean beds, and tea that will never betray you.”
Ailia hesitated, her fingers clenching the crucifix.
To go against her faith was a sin.
But was it another kind of cruelty to reject a sincere heart?
Finally, she took a deep breath and placed her hand in his.
The moment they touched, Ryan’s fingertips accidentally brushed against the pulse in her wrist, feeling her weakness beneath the rapid thumping.
His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, a flicker of restraint crossing his eyes.
His movements became exceptionally gentle as he pulled her onto the front saddle of the Ecliptic Gold Beast, carefully maintaining a gentlemanly distance and avoiding her injured shoulder.
“Are you cold?” Ryan asked in a low voice.
Ailia shook her head, but she secretly gripped the hem of her skirt.
She didn’t dare look back, fearing she would see the sincerity in his eyes; yet, she couldn’t help but want to look back, fearing this tenderness was only a dream.
On the other side, Xue Yin helped Jin toward the horse.
Jin’s consciousness was drifting, and his legs felt as heavy as lead.
He stumbled after taking just one step.
Xue Yin grit her teeth.
Ignoring her own exhaustion, she propped him up by the stirrup.
She had never ridden a horse before and fumbled with the reins.
As soon as her foot hit the stirrup, she lost her balance, and both she and Jin began to lean to one side.
“Watch out!” Xue Yin cried out, hugging Jin’s waist tightly as they both bumped awkwardly against the horse.
Just as they were about to fall, Jin’s instincts took over.
His trembling fingers caught the edge of the saddle, and with one last burst of strength, he pulled himself up.
He slumped over the horse’s back, panting heavily as cold sweat soaked his brow.
Then, he reached down with a shaking hand toward Xue Yin.
“Come up, Master,” his voice was as faint as a candle in the wind.
“This time, let me pull you up.”
Xue Yin grabbed his hand and climbed up somewhat clumsily.
She sat rigidly in front of him, her hands deathly tight on the horse’s mane.
She was shaking so much from nerves that she gripped the wrong spot, causing the horse to let out a dissatisfied *snort*.
“Are… are you going to be okay?” she asked, turning back with worry.
Her voice was frantic and her face was paler than usual.
“You are so weak. We should go slow. Don’t let it be bumpy; I’m afraid you’ll fall off.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jin whispered, barely steadying himself.
Then, he gently wrapped his arms around Xue Yin’s waist from behind, resting his forehead against her back.
His voice held a trace of weak dependence.
“Don’t move. I’m afraid of falling.”
Xue Yin’s entire body went stiff.
His arms were burning hot, and the crimson gold patterns on his skin felt like they were scorching her through her clothes.
His breath brushed against the tip of her ear.
She had never been this close to anyone—especially not this apprentice who always silently followed her, shielding her from the wind and the blade.
In that moment, her dignity as a Master vanished, leaving only the flustered heart of a young woman.
Just before the black horse started walking, Jin suddenly whispered in her ear.
His voice was extremely soft, carrying a hint of a probe.
“Master… were you crying just now?”
Xue Yin froze and immediately denied it, her tone stiff.
“You… you must have seen wrong!”
Jin did not expose her.
He only tightened his hold on her waist and whispered, “I see. I wasn’t very clear-headed at the time.”
After a pause, he asked again, his voice hiding a sliver of unease, “I almost lost control just now. Weren’t you afraid? Fallen Angels do not exactly have a good reputation.”
Xue Yin was silent for a moment before she huffed, not looking back.
“I believe I haven’t chosen the wrong person. What does the reputation of Fallen Angels have to do with my judgment? All I see is that your face is as white as a ghost and you need rest! Remember, no matter what you are, you are just my apprentice right now. As long as I am alive, no one will look at you like a monster. But stay alert. While my current impression of Ryan is okay, we must always be on guard.”
Jin was stunned.
A warm current surged through him, and the restless dark impulses miraculously calmed.
Even if he were to fall into hell at this moment, as long as his Master’s hand was holding him, it would be heaven.
“Yes, Master,” he replied softly.
Meanwhile, Ryan and Ailia were riding the Ecliptic Gold Beast.
He purposely slowed the pace, letting her lean against him.
As Ryan held the reins, a faint longing flashed deep within his crimson eyes—he wanted to drink her blood.
It wasn’t for power, but rather because he wanted to taste if a soul forged through faith and lies was still as pure as the day it was born.
But he restrained himself.
Because a sincere heart was worth the wait.
The group vanished into the mist, galloping toward the Seventh Ring’s Amber Corridor.
The distant wind carried the faint sounds of Asmodeus’s patrols, but those sounds were quickly left behind.
In this world of bloodlines and plunder, one man used his heart as a betrothal gift, seeking not possession but companionship; another two used the bond of master and apprentice to hide the fact that they were quietly holding each other between life and death.