"I really do have to thank you this time, Ariel."

Staring at Ariel, who was covered head to toe in blood and grime, Muen’s lips curved into a gentle smile.

This woman—despite having a head full of her own crystal harem—was still steadfast, brave, and kind. Worthy of being the original novel’s protagonist. She really did have the kind of “capital” that could make anyone’s heart stir.

"But sorry—repaying this kindness by offering myself up to you? Not happening."

Muen’s tone shifted.

After all, he was a one-hundred-percent pure, red-blooded man. Looking like this was only because he had no choice.

He wasn’t the kind of big, gorgeous beauty with long golden wavy hair that Ariel liked.

Muen sighed inwardly. After quickly straightening out his own condition, he went over to Ariel’s side.

Compared to his own spiritual exhaustion, Ariel’s physical injuries were what needed urgent attention right now.

Because even now, he could still hold himself up through sheer willpower. A moment ago he’d also burned and devoured the corpses of those demonfolk with black flames, recovering a bit of strength. But Ariel...

He’d originally assumed Ariel’s external wounds would heal on their own. By common sense, her recovery ability shouldn’t be any weaker than his, even with the black flames.

But along the way, Muen could clearly feel that blood was still flowing from Ariel’s body. So much that it soaked through her clothes and seeped onto the skin of his back.

Cold.

The blood was cold.

Ariel’s body was even colder right now.

"Is it because you’re too weak?"

Muen checked carefully.

Earlier, because time was tight, he’d only roughly fed Ariel a recovery pill—but now it seemed that thing had only barely kept one breath in her.

She was too weak. She had no spare strength to recover external injuries, and her body’s instincts had poured the last bit of vitality and medicinal power into repairing what mattered more.

Like her internal organs.

Because those wounds on her body weren’t just punctures through flesh and bone. The demon battle-qi clinging to the Flayers’ boning knives was still inside Ariel’s organs, tangled with her life force in a struggle that decided life and death.

So even if Muen wasn’t skilled in medicine, he still knew—

"If these external wounds aren’t treated by hand..."

Then a grand ultimate Phoenix-Overlord heroine, a protagonist among protagonists, the chosen child of fate’s luck...

...would probably die in the stupidest way imaginable: bleeding out.

What an unpleasant ending. In a story, any author sick enough to write something like that would definitely get cursed out by furious readers for an entire family tree.

Even setting aside the guilt of “she got hurt like this because she saved me,” Muen couldn’t let that ending become real.

But then the problem came—

Treat it by hand?

Looking at Ariel’s already-tattered clothes, and the bandages that had mostly fallen apart and were only stuck to her body by blood... Muen couldn’t help swallowing.

If he wanted to treat her properly, he’d have to remove those obstructions first, clean the wounds, then apply medicine. That TV-drama move where someone “heals through clothing” by channeling energy didn’t exist in this world.

But...

To dare offend an ultimate Phoenix-Overlord heroine, a protagonist among protagonists, the chosen child of fate’s luck—doing something like this to her while she was unconscious...

Wouldn’t he just get beaten to death afterward?

No—if Ariel found out that she’d been “tainted” by the person she hated most, Muen Campbell, she would one hundred percent, without a doubt, beat him to death.

Muen understood that mentality perfectly, because if one day he woke up and found some disgusting male homosexual tenderly bandaging his wounds while shyly asking if it hurt...

His instinctive reaction would absolutely be to punch that disgusting male homosexual until he was half-paralyzed.

...Huh, wait.

That metaphor didn’t seem quite accurate. Because he wasn’t the disgusting male homosexual who should get punched away. On the contrary—the one lying here right now, with a head full of “ruining pretty girls,” was Ariel, the disgusting female homosexual.

"Haha... is it because I’ve spent too much mental energy? Even my head’s a little unclear."

Muen suddenly slapped his forehead, annoyed at his own hesitation. At a moment like this, how could he afford to care about that?

Even if afterward Ariel beat him to death in a rage, so what? Had he done few enough things that could get him beaten to death by Ariel?

If he’d really been that afraid back then, he wouldn’t have had those deep, intimate exchanges with Liya under that starlit night.

"Worst case—I die!"

Muen rummaged through his storage magic tool and happened to pull out an exquisite little glass bottle.

Ah. The antidote to the senior’s potion.

If even a transformation potion this strong could be canceled just by drinking the antidote, then this humiliating appearance of his should be removable, right...?

Muen looked again at Ariel—quieter than he’d ever seen her, sleeping like a baby. Then he glanced at the red-gold greatsword still tied to her hand...

L-Let’s die a little later.

It wasn’t that he was scared. It was that the situation was urgent. Escaping was what mattered right now. This wasn’t the time for internal conflict.

Muen silently put the antidote # Nоvеlight # away again.

Then he took out bandages, medicine for external wounds, and other items he’d need.

Just very ordinary bandages and external-wound medicine.

Because most of Muen’s recovery items, potions, healing scrolls—he’d even handed over the goddess statue Liya had given him, the one he treasured—to the Imperial Frontline. Right now, all he could pull out were these basic emergency supplies.

"So this is what being poor feels like?"

Muen gave a bitter smile and shook his head.

He didn’t brood over it long. Soon he steadied his mind and focused on what was in front of him.

First he tore open those ragged clothes that had already been completely dyed red with clotted blood. Some parts had fully stuck to her skin, so Muen had to carefully take out Elizabeth and separate them little by little.

Once the outer clothes were torn open... Muen couldn’t help raising a brow.

Ariel’s upper body—her important parts—were wrapped in bandages. It was probably injuries left over from when Zagu knocked her off the high tower. So aside from once again sighing at how bold her chest was, there wasn’t anything to look at.

As for the lower body—

"Don’t look. Don’t look."

Muen hurriedly closed his eyes.

No matter what, as a gentleman, a righteous man, the son of a duke who carried the Campbell name, he would absolutely not commit the act of defiling a pure woman with his gaze.

So that thing with the cute little cake print, that looked rather childish—

He hadn’t seen it. Not at all.

"Now’s the time to test the results of my cultivation," Muen muttered.

If he couldn’t use sight, then he could only assist the treatment in a more upright way.

Years of tempering and training his body had already made Muen’s perception and sense of touch extremely sharp, so even without looking, he could—

No.

Touching it felt even more dangerous.

Even though he only brushed it lightly with his fingertips like a dragonfly skimming water, maybe because he couldn’t see, Muen felt even more clearly that smooth, lamb-fat-like sensation—

There was no “steel plate.”

And it wasn’t hard, either.

That softness, that tender slickness, reminded Muen again and again that the person in front of him was also a youthful, beautiful girl.

...

Only after he’d cleaned the key areas, applied medicine, and changed the bandages did Muen finally open his eyes.

The girl before him—once all the blood and brutality were stripped away—had the full beauty of a young woman laid bare.

Slim where she should be slim, full where she should be full, long where she should be long.

Of course, the disappointment was also truly a disappointment.

"This woman... aside from that disappointing spot, her figure isn’t something to underestimate."

Even though one place was severely lacking in feminine charm, overall her body was still even and harmonious. From another angle, it was a kind of perfection.

Only—

The wounds spread across her delicate skin really did ruin that beauty completely.

"..."

Muen fell silent. The last trace of wandering sensual thoughts in his head was driven out completely.

He crouched down and helped Ariel clean and bandage her wounds with meticulous care.

When everything was done, Ariel had been completely wrapped like a zongzi—every place with a wound was carefully covered.

In the end, only that red-gold greatsword remained.

Muen took it from Ariel’s palm and lightly knocked on the blade.

"Next I’m going to protect your master. Can you go back for now? Otherwise you’re so big—you’re kind of a hassle."

"Hmm."

The sword trembled faintly.

The Skyfire Greatsword rose into the air, circling Muen once as if it were evaluating him.

"Relax."

Muen smiled. "Look, I’m even wasting precious escape time to bandage her wounds. Do you really think I’m the kind of scum who’d do all this and then just dump her here?"

"Trust me. I’m absolutely not scum."

Muen looked sincere—like an ordinary middle-aged man tricking a child into eating candy.

Hmm, hmm.

The Skyfire Greatsword hummed a few more times, then finally returned to Ariel’s space magic tool.

"Having a living spirit really is convenient."

Muen sighed.

Hmm, hmm.

Beside him, Elizabeth also let out a soft hum.

"Relax. This is Ariel’s stuff. I wouldn’t dare mess with it."

Muen picked up Elizabeth, soothing it as he lightly tapped the twin blades together.

Clink.

Electric arcs spread, and an alchemical domain that isolated their aura expanded.

Muen then took out the clothes belonging to "Miss Muse," and temporarily slipped them onto Ariel. Only then did he crouch down and hoist Ariel onto his back.

...Was it because I tied the bandages too tight? This time there really isn’t even a little rise and fall at all.

Hopefully Ariel won’t mind such a small thing.

After doing all that, Muen moved again, sprinting deeper into the cave, trying to widen the distance between them and the pursuers behind.

But he hadn’t sprinted far before he suddenly stopped again.

"Mm..."

A soft whimper. Ariel slowly woke up on his back.

"M-Miss Muse?" Ariel’s voice was weak. Her eyes cracked open slightly as she asked softly.

"Mm. It’s me."

"It really is Miss Muse... you haven’t left yet?"

"Of course I left."

Muen turned back with a faint smile. "I’m just leaving with Miss Ariel, that’s all."

"Mm... you didn’t have to..."

Maybe because she was hurt, or maybe because she wasn’t fully awake, Ariel completely lacked her usual sharpness. She was like a docile kitten, gently clinging to Muen’s back.

"Miss Muse... you won’t disappear and leave me alone again this time, will you...?"

"...No. Don’t worry."

"Hehe, that’s good..."

Ariel narrowed her eyes and rested her head on Muen’s shoulder.

"Then can I sleep for a while?"

"Mm. Sleep."

"Okay."

Ariel obediently fell asleep.

This might have been the softest, meekest version of Ariel Muen had ever seen—the child of fate, the Phoenix-Overlord heroine of the story.

Even the most terrifying monster could say cute sleep-talking lines, huh?

"Sleep."

Muen said softly.

"Have a good dream tonight."

Then he clenched both hands, and at some point Elizabeth—glinting with cold light—was already in his grip.

"So even the alchemical domain can’t block this kind of soul-targeted lock-on, huh?"

Muen looked around.

The shadows all around flickered—so grotesque.