“We… we couldn’t do anything.”
“…The stench of blood was awful…”
When Irina first heard the news about Letter, her mind went blank.
She tried to reassure herself—if it was the professor, she would be fine.
She kept telling herself that, in the end, no one had died.
—Throb.
But she couldn’t hide the sound of her heart beating faster and faster.
She couldn’t suppress the anxiety and worry welling up from deep inside her chest.
The sudden appearance of the Dreamer, whom she had only heard rumors about.
A battle that shook the heavens and shattered the earth.
A clash of high-level magic, so overwhelming that even identifying their forms was difficult.
The fact that Letter hadn’t been pushed back in such an unpredictable fight was a relief.
But on the other hand, it meant that the opponent was just that dangerous.
‘Professor… just what in the world…’
The students were supposed to learn what the demon army truly was through reconnaissance.
And, they were to engage in mock battles against the illusions of the demon forces.
As far as Irina knew, those were the only two objectives of this field study.
A deadly battle against the Dreamer was something that should never have happened.
And yet, it did.
The northern lands and mountain ranges, which had become the battlefield for Letter and the Dreamer, were completely devastated.
And most of all—her frail chest had been pierced, her white robe stained a deep red.
Even if he had protected the students until the very end, Even if he had managed to drive the Dreamer away, She still needed to see Letter for herself.
‘…I should have stopped him, even just one more time.’
Dwelling on her belated regret, Irina walked and walked down the long hallway.
Her destination was the castle’s guest chamber.
The students who had been with Letter had said the stench of blood was overwhelming.
And then, there was Atar Lionheart, the one notorious for being a delinquent.
‘Why had he carried Letter away and disappeared?’
‘Had they known each other before?’
‘Why does that brat have so many secrets…’
Her head was spinning with unanswered questions.
***
“Here we are, Your Highness.”
At the end of her long walk, she arrived at the castle’s guest chamber.
The maids who had guided her stepped back, leading her to a door engraved with intricate patterns.
And so—
Creak.
The door swung open as Irina pushed it inward.
Inside, she was met with the sight of luxurious furniture.
Everything in the room looked undeniably expensive, and further inside, there was another room.
Through the crack in that door, she could hear voices.
Which meant—Letter and Atar were inside.
So, she took another step forward.
She took a deep breath, imagining the bloodstained robe she would soon see.
Only when she had mentally prepared herself did she step forward and push open the inner door.
***
“Please, just stay still…! I need to take it off first!”
“…?”
Something about the scene before her was seriously wrong.
Completely, utterly unexpected.
“I-I can… do it… myself…!”
A flushed face and disheveled white hair.
Being on the bed made sense—he was injured, after all.
But Atar’s rough hands pulling at his clothes—
The way his top was nearly ripped open, exposing his collarbone and chest—
“This… What in the world…?”
Irina couldn’t believe her eyes.
It was a sight that could easily be misunderstood.
And worst of all, Atar’s reputation.
The rumor that he was the worst delinquent in five hundred years made this situation look like something far worse.
“You—y-you take your hands off him right now!!”
Without hesitation, she gathered the mana within her and began chanting a spell.
She locked onto Atar, who was practically pinning Letter down.
And then—
Boom!
With a loud thud, Atar was sent rolling off the bed.
The moment he was off, Irina rushed to Letter’s side, her footsteps frantic.
Seeing his flustered expression, she trembled as she demanded answers.
‘What had that delinquent done to him?’
‘What was going on?’
But before Letter could even open her mouth, Atar pushed himself up.
Irina instinctively pulled Letter behind her, shielding her with her body as she glared at Atar.
“How—How could you do that to an injured person?!”
“Wait a second. You’re misunderstanding something here.”
“Shut up! You rapist! Sick pedophile! Deranged delinquent!!”
“…Everything you said is wrong except the last part.”
Letting out a deep sigh, Atar didn’t bother explaining.
Instead, he pushed Irina aside slightly and reached for the bandages and medicine scattered by the bedside.
Only after that did he speak—to Letter.
“Let me treat you first. Please.”
His voice, tinged with exhaustion, finally made Letter comply.
Slowly, hesitantly, Letter removed her top completely.
And with that, her chest was fully exposed—
Revealing the deep wound across it.
Atar’s face twisted for a moment at the sight of injuries beyond mere scratches.
Hiding such wounds just because she was embarrassed to show her body—was she even in her right mind?
“…Haa…”
Letting out another sigh, Atar couldn’t help but notice how Letter, like the Sage, seemed to be missing a screw in the strangest places.
Still, he figured it was better for Letter to receive treatment from someone she at least knew rather than complete strangers.
That was why he had deliberately kept everyone else out of the room.
‘And yet, here I am getting misunderstood… Seriously…’
Atar glanced briefly at Irina, who looked bewildered beside him, then carefully began applying various medicines to Letter’s wounds.
Each time Atar’s gloved hand touched a wound, the small body flinched.
However, everything Atar was doing right now—every treatment—was something Letter herself had taught him in the past.
As Atar skillfully wrapped the bandages, a complex, indescribable feeling stirred within Letter.
***
A short while later, Charnet entered the room, carrying a fresh set of clothes.
Not long after, Letter was dressed in a neat shirt and coat instead of her bloodstained robe.
Only then did she finally turn to Irina and speak.
“Why did you come all the way here?”
“…Are you seriously asking me that?”
The conversation quickly shifted to the topic of the experiential learning trip to the northern front.
With a voice that was practically accusatory, Irina recounted everything—from the battle between Letter and the Dreamer to how she ended up injured and lying in bed like this.
But in the end…
“Do you have any idea… how worried I was…?”
Her voice trembled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
As tears began to fall onto the bed, Letter, caught off guard, could only mumble an apology.
‘Still, at least they learned how dangerous the front lines are… Though if I said that out loud, she’d definitely get mad.’
Strictly speaking, she had achieved her goal of raising the students’ awareness of the risks.
The problem was that the process had turned out to be far more dangerous than she had anticipated.
The appearance of the Dreamer had been unexpected—but saying that now would just sound like an excuse, and Letter knew it.
After all, in her lectures, she had always emphasized the importance of adaptability in unforeseen situations.
“I might end up getting fired.”
“…Professor, that’s entirely your fault.”
“Ahaha…”
Once they returned to Primus, she would likely spend quite some time buried under a mountain of reports.
Regardless of the outcome, she had to take responsibility for putting her students in danger.
However, since they were still in the North, there were things she still wanted to teach them.
Even if they avoided the front lines where the Dreamer’s presence had been confirmed, the harsh climate of the North was unlike anything found elsewhere on the continent.
That was why she asked Irina to inform the students about a slightly revised experiential learning schedule.
And to let them know she was safe.
“What part of this is safe…?”
“It just looks bad, but it’s nothing serious.”
Compared to the wounds he had before.
Letter swallowed back words she couldn’t say to Irina and instead patted her shoulder.
Even so, the concern never left her face as she returned to the camp where the students were waiting.
Just as Letter was preparing to leave the northern fortress…
“Where do you think you’re going, patient?”
Atar stepped in to block her way.
The next words that followed were less of a request and more of a command: Stay put in this room.
The problem was that Atar’s face showed not even a speck of playfulness.
The bigger problem was that he refused to listen to anything Letter said in response.
And the biggest problem of all…
“I have way too much to say. And even more I want to ask.”
“…What do you mean…?”
Atar was planning to stay in the same room as her.
Technically, it was Atar’s room, but still.
According to the noble etiquette Letter had been taught in the past, an unmarried man and woman sharing a room overnight was highly improper—
Smack!
“Ow!”
“How do you even count as a woman? Stop saying weird things and just stay put.”
Atar, who had just flicked Letter’s forehead, ran a hand through her hair with a sigh.
After a long silence, filled with nothing but Atar lost in thought—
Knock, knock.
“Young master. Here are the things you requested.”
Only when his attendant, Charnet, arrived carrying cocoa and an assortment of desserts did Atar finally speak again.
“Eat first.”
“…?”
“You like sweets, don’t you? Eat while you listen.”
“…It’s not poisoned or anything, so just eat.”
Atar’s persistent—not quite nagging but close—left Letter with no choice but to pick up a fork and take a bite of the chocolate cake.
The moment the unexpectedly sweet taste hit her tongue, her eyes widened.
And then—
“The Dreamer called you by Master’s name.”
A voice beside her spoke words heavy enough to make her heart drop.
Letter’s fork, still reaching for another bite, froze in midair.