“Little girl, what’s your name? Why are you here alone?”
Henna looked at the young, adorable girl in front of her, unable to help the thought that came to mind:
What kind of parent is this carefree?
Letting a child wander into such a dangerous place—if she hadn’t run into me just now, it could’ve ended terribly!
Totally irresponsible.
A lesson must be taught, or next time they’ll just let the child roam free again!
“My name is Rosily.”
Rosily carefully studied the red-haired knight in front of her.
That moment when Henna had appeared earlier had left a deep impression on her.
Noticing the girl’s sparkling gaze, Henna cleared her throat, hinting that Rosily hadn’t finished answering the question—how exactly had she ended up here?
But Rosily didn’t understand the hint.
Instead, she asked her own question.
“Big sister, are you a knight? You looked so cool just now!”
Henna paused for a moment.
The girl’s face stirred a strange sense of familiarity in her, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly who it reminded her of.
Seeing Rosily’s gaze full of admiration and yearning, she thought of a certain moment from her own past.
Almost as if influenced by some mysterious force of fate, Henna casually turned around, spun her wrist to twirl her sword in a graceful arc, and smoothly sheathed the blade at her waist.
With her back to Rosily, she brushed aside the hair on her forehead, tilted her chin slightly, and gazed off into the distance as she said in a low, solemn voice:
“I’m just a passing knight, nothing more.”
Once, someone had said those exact words to her, in the same pose.
Rosily, staring at her back, gave a little shiver.
Stars sparkled in her eyes.
But Henna froze.
The noise from the earlier battle had drawn the attention of her subordinates.
Her knights had arrived just in time—and happened to witness her little performance.
They tactfully pretended they hadn’t heard anything.
Henna’s ears were burning red.
Fortunately, her hair was naturally wine-red, making it less obvious.
She took a deep breath and quickly composed herself, turning to Rosily and asking:
“Rosily, how did you end up in here?”
“Huh?”
Rosily blinked, thought for a moment, then raised the bunny in her hands.
Before she could speak, the bunny let out a series of squeaky “ya-ya-ya” sounds.
“I was chasing it. I kept chasing and chasing and ended up here. Then I ran into that weird man. I ran, and he chased me. I kept running, he kept chasing, and he just wouldn’t stop…”
Rosily animatedly described her adventure with childlike innocence, her soft little voice telling the story so vividly that many of those present struggled to hold back laughter.
But with Henna standing nearby, they didn’t dare actually laugh aloud.
Henna listened carefully to Rosily’s account, then nodded in acknowledgment.
“Mhm, I understand.”
Rosily hummed happily in response.
Henna took off her gloves, wiped her hands, and then reached out toward Rosily’s head.
She had wanted to pat the cute little girl, both in appearance and personality—but Rosily dodged her hand.
After that first failed attempt, Henna didn’t try again.
She just gave an awkward smile to brush it off.
Rosily, meanwhile, clutched her head and said pitifully:
“Mama said if someone pats my head, I won’t grow tall. Rosily wants to be as tall as big sister one day!”
“…”
Henna was stunned.
She had never imagined a little girl could be this adorable and heartwarming.
She couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Hahaha! Alright, alright—Rosily, you really are a sweet little one.”
Henna pinched Rosily’s soft, chubby cheeks.
This time, Rosily didn’t dodge.
She smiled brightly at the knight before her, already dreaming about how she would one day become “just a passing knight” too!
Just then, a messenger soldier ran up to Henna.
Instead of kneeling, he stood tall and straight, displaying his best energy and spirit.
“Report! We’ve searched thoroughly but found no remaining Blood God cultists.”
“Keep searching. Stay alert and avoid unnecessary conflict as much as possible.”
Henna quickly issued her next command.
She had deliberately driven the remaining cultists within Redwood City toward this area.
A battle inside the city would have caused massive civilian casualties, which she wanted to avoid.
So she had purposely left a gap for them to flee in this direction—only to then trap and eliminate them here.
She called over a soldier holding her horse.
Taking the reins, Henna turned back to Rosily and asked gently:
“What’s your mother’s name, Rosily? I’ll have someone escort you home.”
“Mother?”
Rosily hesitated for just a second, then answered cheerfully:
“My mother’s name is Phil Clorcy!”
“……”
Henna was momentarily frozen upon hearing that name.
Once she recovered, she gave Rosily a more careful look.
The girl’s features were remarkably beautiful.
Her skin was fair and delicate, with no trace of sun or wind exposure.
All these clues added up—this wasn’t a girl from an ordinary family.
Only the wealthy or noble households could raise such a clean and well-groomed child.
No wonder she looked familiar.
So she was Lady Phil’s daughter.
Henna tightened her grip on the reins, then thought for a moment before speaking to Rosily:
“Little Rosily, why don’t you come with me first? I’ll take you home afterward, alright?”
“Hmm… okay!”
This time, Rosily pretended to think about it before quickly agreeing.
Henna mounted her horse in one smooth motion.
Rosily walked over and handed her little hand to Henna.
With a gentle pull, Henna helped her up—Rosily stepped onto the stirrup and pushed herself onto the saddle with ease.
Henna was a bit surprised and asked, “Isn’t this your first time riding a horse, Rosily?”
“It is.”
Rosily adjusted her sitting posture, then grabbed Henna’s waist with both hands and leaned forward to look at the horse’s head.
Her big black eyes also glanced curiously at Henna.
Henna tugged the reins and began to guide the horse forward slowly.
But they hadn’t gone far when an explosion rang out overhead.
Looking up, Henna immediately shouted to the nearby knights:
“Head to the North Gate immediately!”
The sound of galloping hooves filled the air.
Henna set aside her playful mood and turned to Rosily.
“Hold tight to my waist, little Rosily.”
“Mhm.”
Rosily clutched her bunny in one hand and wrapped her other arm tightly around Henna’s waist, leaning against her back.
As the horse picked up speed, the surrounding scenery blurred and rushed past them.
Before long, their group arrived at the North Gate.
Henna had someone arrange a place for Rosily to rest, while she herself strode quickly toward the site of the incident.
Awaiting her was the veteran knight Warren, whose strength even slightly surpassed her own.
The area had already been sealed off—it was a small inn.
Warren stepped forward to greet her. “My Lady.”
Henna got straight to the point. “What happened here? Tell me as we walk.”
So cute~😖