Loki struggled to get up from the ground, reaching up to touch his face.
Just moments ago, Aile had suddenly punched him in the face without any warning, sending him flying backward like a ragdoll.
He stood there dazed for two or three seconds before finally realizing he had just been punched.
The spot where the fist had landed was red and slightly swollen.
But strangely, there was no pain at all—not even from the impact when his back hit the ground—as if someone had injected him with anesthesia.
“Does it hurt?”
Aile stood before Loki, speaking softly.
Her crimson eyes burned like molten lava, radiating a heat that seemed almost capable of melting him.
“Loki, does it hurt?”
“……”
What on earth does this woman want?
Loki clenched the artifact he used to summon Christin.
Aile continued muttering to herself.
She reached out her hand, seemingly wanting to touch Loki’s face, but stopped mid-air, not moving forward even a centimeter.
“No, of course it doesn’t hurt. This is just a little lesson… Even if you abandoned me for so many years, even if your body carries the scent of countless wild women, I would never be mad at you… How could I be mad at you?”
…No way.
Loki’s pupils trembled.
He frantically racked his brain, running through every memory as quickly as possible.
He remembered every single person he had ever offended clearly.
But to say he had even a vague impression of her was impossible—this was the first time he had ever seen Aile’s face.
No matter who they were, nobody would ever toss such a uniquely beautiful woman into the trash bin of memory.
Loki was no exception.
What?
You say Sairu and Ina?
The former was because girls change drastically as they grow, and the latter because she had ambushed him from behind, and he had to escape before getting a good look at her face.
If she were a hot-tempered blonde twin-tail, or a pink-haired goody-two-shoes with a halo and wings on her back—types that never changed—he would definitely recognize her at a glance.
But this red-haired woman, with a kind of maternal aura… even if Loki underwent a full memory restoration, he’d probably just say, “I don’t know her.”
Fortunately, it seemed that the women of this world hadn’t been tainted by strange ideas yet, and hadn’t resorted to vicious tactics like false accusations.
Otherwise, Loki would have ended up in jail long ago.
“Judging by your expression, Loki… you haven’t forgotten me, have you?”
Aile took two steps closer.
Her eyes began to lose focus.
“We used to talk about everything, you used to vent your grievances to me, you were willing to tell me all your buried secrets—”
“So why did you forget me, Loki?”
No, I didn’t even know you before today!
“Is it because you’ve met younger girls?”
No, what does that have to do with you?
“I’m not opposed to you dating girls, but at the very least… at the very least! You should tell me first, let me meet them, get my permission, right?”
Wait! Isn’t this topic going way off track?
…With this tone, are you a controlling single mother or something? This isn’t a place for mommy’s boys—wrong address!
With this new layer of acquaintance, Aile’s threat level toward Loki skyrocketed, even enough to stomp Solis underfoot.
For the first time, the young man felt like running was the only option.
Knowing he would inevitably be trembling in front of this woman, Loki showed no mercy and used his final tactic.
Let the trouble deal with the trouble, and what can’t be handled, leave to the experts.
Compared to Aile Cardo, Loki preferred the old man in military uniform.
Because killing solves everything.
Haven’t you seen those novels where heroes slay the Demon King easily, but when it comes to love problems, they start rolling their eyes and sticking out their tongues?
If I don’t like it, I just don’t deal with it.
Loki didn’t hesitate and took off running.
“Don’t run! Loki! Stop right there!”
Aile naturally wouldn’t let him off so easily.
Just like a mom’s hanger always finds the right spot on your behind—the dark void blocking her path forced her to halt.
From within stepped a tall female knight with flaxen hair.
Her signature silver-white armor was stained with dirt and scratches, but her cold, stunning face showed no trace of fatigue.
She simply stood there, her presence overwhelming everything around her.
“Christin! Help hold back that red-haired woman!”
Loki shouted as he ran, soon disappearing through the entrance of the ceremony grounds.
Christin, rushing over from afar, nodded slightly and fixed her gaze on her next opponent.
Her deep brown eyes immediately reflected the image of the red-haired woman.
Honestly, she was a troublesome person… but not a problem.
The female knight silently drew her sword, pointing it straight at her opponent’s chest.
Christin’s true profession was killing.
No matter where she was, that never changed.
So even when summoned by Loki in the middle of her “work,” she bore him no grudge.
It was part of their contract, a reward she voluntarily granted him.
Until the summoning ended, she would obey any command Loki gave.
“You heard me, Aile Cardo. This ends here.
Whatever your purpose is in attacking him, I won’t let you take another step forward.”
What Loki didn’t know was that his trump card happened to know Aile.
The Empire’s champion knight and the well-known mercenary star had worked together before.
Not friends, but acquaintances at least.
Only someone like Loki—who occasionally bought a newspaper just to glance at the headlines—would be ignorant of Aile Cardo’s name and face.
But that didn’t really matter.
Christin would do whatever needed to be done.
If anything, not swinging her sword at the moment of landing was already showing some respect for an acquaintance.
If she didn’t know better, Christin wouldn’t hesitate to teach her a lesson.
…A lesson about casually attacking others.
“Christin? So it’s you?”
Aile frowned.
But her confusion lasted only a second before she shifted to a discerning look, as if she didn’t care at all how Christin appeared out of nowhere.
After standing off for a while, Aile spoke.
“Hm… your clothes are too plain. You’d better dress stylishly like me; otherwise, you’d have no face going on dates.”
“Your expression is too serious. You’d better be as gentle as I am, or else every kiss feels like going into battle.”
“Your chest is too small. You’d better be as big as me, or how will you raise kids later?”
“Your combat skills are too high. You’d better know when to hold back like me, or your marriage will end in divorce due to domestic violence!”
“In conclusion, you’re unqualified.”
Aile made an “X” gesture at Christin.
“So, Christin, I do not approve of you being with Loki.”
“Nothing good ever comes from a dog’s mouth.”
The female knight closed her eyes, her hand trembling with rising anger as it gripped the sword.
She rarely lost control of her emotions, but this was an exception—since she was here anyway, she might as well cut something before leaving.