The first rays of the bright morning sunlight streamed in, casting light upon Zieg’s handsome face, which was marked by unsettled clouds of worry.
He lay quietly in bed, ignoring the silver-haired girl beside him who was buried under the blanket.
Feeling the dampness of his clothes, sticky and unpleasant, he realized it wasn’t sweat soaking through.
He lowered his head and gently sniffed, detecting an indescribable scent.
How to put it… it was just too strange to explain.
“Holy Water… huh? I’ve only heard of it before.”
Even he, the Hakimi Demon King, felt a spark of curiosity toward this thing.
After all, not only could it heal his battered body, but it could also boost his spirit a hundredfold.
That would be incredibly useful for his current state, like a timely rescue.
Next time he faced Gerard, he wouldn’t be a “five-second man” anymore.
He had always thought Holy Water was just a myth, a rumor at best.
Never did he expect it to be real, and even he was seeing it for the first time…
Of course, the Saintess and Holy Water were closely connected by countless threads.
After figuring out the origin of the Holy Water, a confusing feeling settled over him—he just couldn’t make sense of it.
If this good stuff existed, why didn’t Emilia bring it out sooner? What was she up to? Wait, could she be trying to hoard it for herself? We’re a loving family, after all.
How could he even entertain such a vile thought? As the Hakimi, he had to discipline her properly.
He immediately spoke with righteous indignation, reaching out to touch Emilia, who lay beside him.
He searched down a bit and grabbed the girl’s small head, silently lifting it to his eye level, ready to discuss something serious.
Maybe he could ask for a bit more Holy Water—good things shouldn’t be kept secret.
But he noticed Emilia looked off—her whole face was flushed red, burning with embarrassment.
She didn’t dare meet his eyes and kept her head lowered, utterly shy and fidgety, like a different person from before.
Weren’t we supposed to be together forever? Didn’t we say “I love you” without any shame? What happened here?
As for what happened, and how the Holy Water came to be—that only she knew.
Whatever the situation, he didn’t plan to pry further. If she was sick, then more hot water would do the trick.
“You still have Holy Water…”
Before he could finish, she cut him off, overwhelmed by shame, covering her face and hurriedly apologizing as she tried to explain.
Just last night, her mood had spiraled, and she wanted to do some fancy tricks to relieve the pressure.
But lacking experience, things got out of control—an unbearable mess.
Now the situation was like this.
His blood-red eyes reflected the sight of her wet clothes.
His fists clenched tightly.
It had come to this—he couldn’t keep using the Holy Water as an excuse. He had to face reality.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to confess honestly, knowing he’d probably guessed by now.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t act recklessly again, Zieg.
I’ll wash the dirty clothes clean, and your stained body—I’ll help you with that…
Just don’t make me leave… I still want to sleep beside you.”
“What? Huh?”
Zieg looked puzzled but quickly activated his sharp mind, turning over the meaning behind her words.
Suddenly, realization dawned on him.
He crossed his arms over his chest and gently shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.
That was trust—she trusted him.
“You wouldn’t be blaming yourself for scaring me with the Holy Water, would you?
Don’t worry, I’m fine. In fact, I have to praise you for what you did, Emilia.
Thanks to you, I’m much better now.
It’s like being reborn.
Even if I got hurt or something went wrong because of it, I wouldn’t blame you.
Because your intentions were sincere, you meant well—that’s what matters.
I won’t be mad.”
He stretched his limbs; his bones cracked as he moved.
Having said the polite and comforting words, he took the chance to get back to the main point, extending his hand with a hook of his finger, asking her for more Holy Water.
“Could I have some more of that Holy Water?
You must still have some, right, Emilia?
Don’t be stingy—we’re family.
If necessary, I’ll trade something for it.
That stuff is too useful for me.
My body’s improved a lot just from external use.
If I took it internally, maybe the effects would be even better.”
He even started seriously analyzing the pros and cons of internal versus external use, but that was beside the point.
What mattered now was getting the Holy Water.
He had to have it, no matter what.
After hearing this, she felt the world was too surreal.
Her head spun, eyes wide with disbelief.
Her slender body trembled slightly.
That stuff had that kind of effect? She’d never heard of it before.
She didn’t know how to explain it—her brain felt like it was smoking.
By now, the true nature of the Holy Water was indescribable.
She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.
She wanted to cry but had no tears.
She could only keep lying, hoping to move past the topic quickly.
“I—I don’t have any more. Really, I’m sorry, Zieg.”
“Is that so? What a pity.”
He didn’t seem too suspicious.
After all, something so precious was naturally rare.
He sighed softly and shook his head, a wave of helplessness washing over him.
He had thought he found a chance to recover his strength, but it turned out to be a fleeting illusion.
He muttered quietly, speaking either to himself or perhaps to Emilia.
“I thought I could regain some strength with this…
Maybe even have a chance to face Gerard head-on again, to protect this place, to protect you.
Looks like I was just wishing too much…
Sigh, guess the best option is still the Thirty-Six Stratagems—run away.”
With that, he cast a meaningful glance, carefully observing the subtle changes in Emilia’s expression.
He wondered what she was hoping for…
But perhaps his hopes were destined to turn into shock.
Emilia, doing her best to appear normal, gently tapped her cheek and summoned courage.
She didn’t want to disappoint the one she loved.
She didn’t want to see his hopes and expectations vanish.
If this really worked, if it could truly make up for the harm she’d caused him, if it could save the slowly rising Demon King City from Gerard’s persecution…
Then this little sacrifice, this shame, was nothing.
Emilia, you can’t be like this. You can’t only think about yourself.
Thinking that, she placed her delicate hand over her proud chest.
Her stunning face was full of seriousness and determination.
Her cheeks still flushed bright red, burning with shame.
Anyone would feel the same—it’s like secretly playing around and then getting caught by your parents coming home early, the sudden embarrassment bursting forth.
That feeling…
It’s hard to describe.
Like your body’s alive, but your spirit’s already dead.
Wishing you could go somewhere no one knew you.
Suddenly, she stood up on the bed, her jade feet pressing softly on the quilt.
Without a word, she lifted her skirt without hesitation, leaving only the holy light shining, blinding his eyes.
Seeing the item he’d longed for, he didn’t know why, but he felt no happiness.
It was clear—he chose to be angry and frustrated rather than calm.
“Emilia, if I pocket you, you kick me down the ditch.
Baka Yarou, whatever.
My heart was meant to break anyway.
Don’t ask how old I am; my emotions are all in pieces.”