The sky was hazy and foggy without anyone knowing when it had started, stretching endlessly beyond sight.
A steady drizzle pattered against the tent, waking Sig, who had fallen into a deep sleep.
He awoke expressionless, stretching his muscles before rolling off the bed.
Rising, he looked up at the sky with his hands behind his back, inexplicably feeling a twinge of unease—though perhaps it was just his imagination, he thought.
Maybe he shouldn’t go withdraw money today. Tomorrow would do; after all, there was no urgent rush.
Besides, his physical condition wasn’t great today.
Sometimes his kidneys would falter after overexertion…
His short pale gold hair was tousled by the wild wind as he stood deep in thought. The ends shimmered like waves of wheat under the dim light.
He wore a slightly faded cotton-linen shirt that accentuated his upright posture, the open collar revealing defined collarbones.
The sleeves were casually rolled up to his elbows, his toned forearm muscles tensing slightly with small movements.
His dark brown trousers were ripped and letting the breeze through, perfectly embodying Hakimi’s distinctive aura.
A flash of lightning illuminated his face, highlighting a few strands of bangs falling over his broad forehead.
His sharp brow bones framed his clear and striking golden eyes, the slight upward tilt at the corners lending a wild, unruly spirit that resisted discipline.
Below his high, straight nose were clearly defined thin lips, the corners slightly lifted—not quite a smile, but carrying a hint of lazy charm even when neutral.
His jawline was clean and sharp, his neck slender, the prominent Adam’s apple rolling gently with each word, radiating mature masculine allure.
“It’s raining… no, something’s wrong.”
As if realizing something, a trace of panic flashed across his face. He glanced back, and sure enough, a heavy object dropped behind him, crashing loudly to the ground a few seconds later.
It was a young girl—silver hair, blue eyes, and undeniably beautiful, an impeccable presence. Not Emilia herself, who was busy working in the rain.
Given the tight schedule and pressing tasks, Emilia had no idea she’d been robbed blind.
This girl was not Emilia but Gerald. She lay on the ground in confusion, frozen, having been mysteriously transported here by the gods without any mental preparation.
She had no idea where or when she was.
Until her pale blue eyes peeked through the torn tent, gazing at the foggy sky as raindrops fell on her cheeks one after another.
Coming to her senses, she carefully lifted her gaze and stood up, looking around until she saw a familiar yet hated man.
The figure before her looked like a walking ball of frizz—Hakimi—leaving a deep impression.
“I probably will never forget you in this lifetime, Hakimi the Demon King.”
Only then did she suddenly recall what the gods had said… They didn’t seem to be joking at all.
Right, they never joke—they really sent themselves here for real.
The two fell into silence for a moment, neither breaking the quiet as they stared at each other in the rain.
Their eyes showed different emotions—only Gerald remained constantly alert of the other, while Sig couldn’t help but smile warmly, approaching gently.
He seemed completely unaware of any abnormalities.
“What’s wrong, Emilia? What are you doing here…? Weren’t you supposed to be working?”
“… Dropping in from the sky like this isn’t exactly safe, you know. Don’t do that next time.”
Although he sensed something was off, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Yet, driven by the power of love, he chose to ignore the odd factors and details, genuinely concerned.
He stepped forward slowly, reaching out a hand to help her up, also casually fixing her torn clothes.
With his current strength, mending tears was trivial.
He could even destroy the world if he wished—though naturally, on the condition that humanity did not resist.
Anyone who dared rebel would be shown death as a warning, and he meant every word.
Gerald found this odd. Her mouth twitched slightly, her pupils contracted, lashes fluttering rapidly.
Her eyebrows furrowed unnaturally, and her pale lips moved silently as if trying to say something—only to remain unspoken.
Her expression flickered between sweetness and distortion, a cold sweat trembling on her cheek, ready to fall.
She didn’t understand why she hadn’t been discovered.
It was too strange… why?
Duke Olae had seen through it from the very start. Was he playing her for a fool? Probably…
After a brief silence, she tentatively reached out her delicate hand, deciding to test him.
After all, she would leave in ten minutes. Even if recognized, it wouldn’t be a big deal.
Making contact was the main reason she came here—there was no reason to refuse.
Taking a deep breath, she awkwardly responded, almost admitting her identity as Emilia—though she was shameless, she felt a twinge of embarrassment.
“Uh, it’s nothing. Just came back for a bit.”
She hastily fabricated an excuse and carefully placed her hand on his, her body tense, eyes sharp and alert, ready to pull back at any moment.
As expected, nothing happened.
They only touched, her hand gently grasping his, and nothing more.
She could feel the former hero’s power slowly returning to her body—painfully slow, but at least she could feel it.
It was what she entrusted him with before death, hoping he would protect Emilia.
Now that she had returned, she would naturally protect Emilia herself and reclaim her power.
Their contact happened smoothly, and to her surprise, he had set no defenses or traps.
She was genuinely astonished. It was a good thing, but how could he not notice anything amiss?
Her shock made her momentarily forget how deeply repulsed she felt inside.
Could it be… perhaps he remembered something?
She raised her hand and gently caressed her own cheek.
She had a pretty good guess: it was probably because of this face.
They looked too alike—almost carved from the same mold.
If that was the case… it made sense.
“… Strange.”
Seeing this, he sensed something was off and naturally pulled the unsuspecting girl into his arms.
At that moment, his strong body seemed to weaken, as if something unimportant was slipping away continuously.
He didn’t doubt the girl before him but instead felt that he himself had been too undisciplined.
He silently reminded himself to exercise restraint and gently cautioned the girl.
“Try to do less from now on… I’m kind of at my limit. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable—I’m good—but moderation is better.”
Unexpectedly, Gerald, hearing this, immediately flared up in anger.
She understood perfectly and gripped his hand tightly, trying to crush it—but her strength was lacking, and it came off more like a shy gesture.
Her entire face blushed bright red in his arms—not from shyness, but genuine embarrassment.
Really?
You dare show off Emilia in front of me? Hakimi, you bastard.
Is this any different from the company president subtly mocking his incompetent husband at work? His wife really is amazing.
Clenching her teeth, she silently vowed in her heart, “Damn you, Sig. I’ll kill you sooner or later. Just wait—I’ll make you watch as I toy with Emilia.”
She lifted her gaze, choosing to glare fiercely at Sig.
Lowering her head to meet his eyes, he misread her expression.
After all, lovers see beauty in each other, and any reaction could be rationalized.
Not being love-struck—just understanding.
Scratching his cheek awkwardly, he continued gently.
“Honestly, don’t be shy, Emilia. You weren’t shy at all in bed before. Now you’re acting shy, and it’s making me feel a little embarrassed.”
It was clear from Gerald’s murderous glare that if looks could kill, she would have torn him to pieces.