Chapter 19: The Hero’s Choice

The knight receiving the honor turned his gaze to the nun.

In the hallowed hall, Sharei issued her command, and Lyte knelt, his hands reverently cradling the holy sword. 

The gathered nuns and knights watched the pair, their breaths held in anticipation of what would unfold.

The air thrummed with solemnity as Sharei’s voice rang out again. 

“Let the nun bind the knight with her vow.”

Noi, her gaze as soft as a still lake, took Lyte’s hand, her lips trembling against the saccharine weight of her lines. 

“When danger looms, will you brave all perils to stand at my side, to shield me, to walk with me?”

“I will,” Lyte vowed, his voice steady as stone.

“And when calamity descends, will you…” 

Noi faltered, her cheeks burning. 

‘Oh, this is mortifying!’ she thought. 

It wasn’t a wedding, yet the words felt plucked from a marriage oath, absurdly intimate. 

Her mind churned with silent protests, but her face bloomed with a radiant, blissful smile.

At last, she reached the final exchange of sacred tokens. 

But before she could complete the rite, Lyte’s voice cut through the stillness. 

“My beloved angel,” he said, his tone low and fervent, “you are my scabbard, my armor, my very weakness.”

Noi froze. 

‘Was that in the script?’

Her eyes flicked to Sharei, who shrugged, signaling this was Lyte’s improvisation. 

No choice but to play along, Noi thought, steeling herself.

Lyte raised his head, his amber eyes blazing like twin torches, piercing her soul. 

“Will you stand with me to aid the weak and punish the wicked?”

“I will,” she answered, her voice a soft echo of his resolve.

“Then let us face this beautiful world with kindness, offering all we have for justice and righteousness, defending our oaths with our lives!”

“I…” Noi hesitated, a wry thought flickering through her mind. 

Am I being coerced? 

But she nodded. 

“Yes.”

Lyte placed the sword in her hands, his voice solemn as he spoke the words long destined for this moment. 

“By this holy sword, I swear to guard you until my body breaks and my path ends.”

“My heart is like my sword—unyielding, unbroken,” Noi replied, lifting the blade and resting it lightly against his neck. 

It was the perfect moment to strike, if she wished. 

But she didn’t. 

She wanted Lyte to see her not as a world-ending witch, but as a fledgling girl, ordinary and earnest.

Unfastening the pouch Sharei had given her, Noi sheathed Lyte’s bare sword in a bronze scabbard she’d chosen herself from the armory. 

In turn, Lyte unclasped the sapphire that marked him as a hero, threading it onto a silver chain from Sharei and slipping it gently around Noi’s slender neck.

Her delicate throat could snap with a single twist, yet Lyte’s hands were steady, his intent pure. 

He sought her flaws, a chink in her armor to expose her, to bring her down honorably.

Noi’s smile was a blooming flower as she clasped the sapphire, channeling her magic into it, sealing the ceremony with a perfect flourish. 

‘It’s done’, she thought, exhaling.

But her magic, drawn from a body already drained by morning prayers, faltered. 

The world spun, darkness rushed in, and she collapsed.

“Noi!” Lyte’s voice cracked with panic as he caught the snow-haired nun crumpling into his arms. 

For the first time since his rebirth, he was utterly lost. 

The cold-blooded witch of his past life and the fragile saint of this one blurred together, their images overlapping in his mind, dazzling and disorienting.

Noi’s fading vision caught Lyte’s frantic expression as he shook her gently, calling her name. 

The nuns swarmed closer, their murmurs a distant hum. 

After a hurried exchange with Chenxi, Lyte swept her up in a princess carry, striding toward some unknown destination. 

‘Where’s he taking me?’ 

‘Not a dungeon, surely…’ 

Her thoughts scattered as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Her mind drifted, submerged in amber-thick liquid, heavy and suffocating. 

Despair clawed at her, binding her fragile heart. 

‘I don’t want to die…’ 

‘I’ve only just begun to live.’

She swam upward through a murky ocean, time dissolving into meaninglessness. 

At last, Noi awoke, her eyes squinting against the harsh cobalt glow of the room. 

She shut them again, unnoticed by the brooding hero.

Lyte sat lost in thought, wrestling with a grim choice: should he end her now? 

Tina, after feeding Noi a leftover mana potion from Simon, had dragged Chenxi away, claiming to give the pair space. 

It suited Lyte perfectly—no protectors, no resistance. 

Noi lay defenseless, unconscious.

Yet her saintly guise gnawed at him. 

If her purity was a facade, might she hide greater strength? 

If he struck and failed, there’d be no second chance in this reborn life. 

His eyes roamed her form, searching for a point of attack, only to linger on her chest, its presence undeniable.

Noi, stirring faintly, sensed his gaze—her chest, thighs, lips, neck, wrists, ankles. 

‘This man’s shameless!’ she thought, half-amused, half-outraged. 

Her black veil slipped as she shifted, revealing the snowy curve of her breast, a provocative silhouette that teased Lyte’s restraint.

His stare grew fixed, caught by the sapphire nestled in the deep valley of her chest, framed by the taut peaks of her form. 

Noi, though her eyes were closed, felt his desire flare, her senses attuned to his quickening breath. 

He’s swallowing hard, she thought, a mischievous giggle bubbling within her.

But Lyte’s will held firm, wrestling down his urges. 

Noticing the faint curve of her lips and the flutter of her eyelids, he suspected she was feigning sleep. 

Time to test her. 

“Vivi,” he said softly, crafting a pet name to stir her. 

“You’re awake, aren’t you?”

Noi seized the moment, sitting up with a doe-like gaze, her water-blue eyes locking onto his. 

“Mister Lyte… no, my dear knight,” she said, her voice warm with feigned innocence. 

“You stayed by my side. No wonder I felt so safe, even in sleep.”

“It’s my duty as a knight, Vivi,” he replied, his tone gentle but probing. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much better, thank you. Just a faint from overusing my magic—nothing serious.” 

She smiled, deflecting his concern.

“Would you like some water?” he offered, his amber eyes glistening with unshed tears, a springtime warmth softening his gaze.

The water he handed her was cloudy, laced with a powder to aid her mana flow. 

His large hand, calloused yet gentle, brushed her tender neck, sending a shiver through her. 

Too sensitive! 

She scolded herself, her cheeks flushing. 

‘It’s not like I’m smitten.’

Sipping the water, she lapped at it delicately, then winced as it scalded her tongue. 

“Careful,” Lyte warned, his voice a low, magnetic hum, boyish yet commanding.

I could drown in that tenderness, she thought, her heart aching for protection, for love—a primal need, undimmed by her past as a man or her present frailty.

But doubt lingered. 

If the game’s plot held true, would she become the world-destroying witch? 

And if so, would Lyte kill her?

His next words sharpened her fears. 

“Vivi, what’s on your mind? Did I do something wrong?”

His gaze was fierce, probing, as if peeling back her lies to expose her truth. 

Disappointment and grievance flared in her, but she pushed them aside. 

“Nothing,” she said softly, shaking her head. 

“You’ve done… too much.”

Her voice broke. 

“Am I, so ordinary and burdensome, truly worth all this?”

‘Will you kill me?’, her heart whispered. 

‘I’ll be good, I swear.’ 

‘Please, let me live anew.’

Lyte’s hand reached for her, and she braced for violence, her throat tightening. 

But instead, his fingers brushed her cheek, wiping away tears she hadn’t felt fall. 

His amber eyes, heavy with compassion, met hers. 

He can’t bear my tears, she realized, relief mingling with wonder.

“Don’t cry, my little angel,” he murmured, his touch lingering on her soft cheek. 

The world shrank to the space between them, vast as the cosmos, yet small as their shared gaze.

“I swore an oath,” he said, his voice unwavering. 

“No matter the ruin of the world, I’ll walk with you, always.”

Noi’s heart trembled, “Truly?”

His answer was action. 

Lyte leaned in, his scent of grass and masculinity enveloping her. 

Unlike the ceremonial touches in the hall, this was fierce, real. 

He pulled her close, her heart swelling with sweetness, tears of joy spilling freely.

His breath grazed her ear, warm and teasing. 

“Is it true?” he whispered. 

“Prove it with your life.”