Tears mingled with the blood and mud on his face, not from joy at his survival but from an overwhelming sorrow that threatened to crush him. He had wanted to let go, to join his family in the abyss, to escape the unbearable weight of being alone. But a strange sensation—a sudden, thunderous surge of emotion—flooded his mind, halting his surrender. A voice, unfamiliar yet commanding, screamed within him, warning of danger and urging him to live. It was as if his very soul had shifted, a new consciousness taking root. This was no ordinary child. This was Zephyr Zinger, a five-year-old who, in another life on Earth, had died falling from a tree while picking apples, only to awaken in this strange, perilous world. The transmigration had left him disoriented, his memories of streaming videos and mobile games clashing with the brutal reality of the Vermithys world, a medieval realm of magic and hardship.
Covered in grime, Zephyr crawled from the muddy floodwaters, his small body battered but unbroken. He clung to the cliffside tree, its bizarre, luminescent bark pulsing faintly under his touch, as if it, too, defied the flood's wrath. The world around him was a desolate expanse of water and ruin, his family's disappearance a mere speck in the chaos, like dust swept away by the wind. Too young to fully grasp death, Zephyr understood only the crushing loneliness, the hunger gnawing at his stomach, and the cold that seeped into his bones. His cries for help went unanswered, lost in the storm's howl, until his strength began to fade, his vision blurring as death's embrace loomed.
But fate had other plans.
A small girl—no older than he was—emerged crawled from the ruin under heavy rain, her delicate frame trembling like a frightened kitten. Her face, half-hidden beneath soaked strands of hair, was marked with bruises. She was on the verge of death.
Without hesitation, young Zephyr offered her the only fruit he had. Starving and barely alive, the girl devoured it, the bittersweet juice flooding her weakened body with warmth, pulling her back from the edge of oblivion. As her delicate eyes fluttered open, they met his—a face so vivid it burned itself into her memory. In that moment, he became her savior, a fleeting light in a world that had taken everything from her.
Together, the two children fought to survive in the flooded wilderness, scavenging for scraps of food and shelter amid the wreckage. Their bond, forged in desperation, was a fragile spark in the darkness. But their time together was short-lived.
One day, an immortal master descended from the heavens, his presence radiant and overwhelming. He claimed the girl as his own kin, and just like that, she was gone—torn away from Zephyr, leaving him alone once more in a world that had stripped him of everything.
Now, the young boy—a transmigrated soul trapped in a child's body—wandered the ruins of Balfton. His heart ached, but his spirit refused to break. With nothing but a fleeting memory of family members and her face to guide him, he pressed forward, determined to survive.
——
Time slipped away like sand through an open hand.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, fifteen years had passed. High atop Balfton Mountain, Zephyr Zinger lay sprawled across the sun-warmed rocks, his body weary from a long day of gathering rare herbs. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs as he gazed lazily at the clouds drifting across the endless blue sky. A well-deserved rest—or so he thought.
Then, the heavens parted.
A figure descended from the swirling mist, her presence so radiant it seemed to bend the very light around her. Clad in flowing robes that shimmered like liquid gold, she stepped onto the mountain peak with effortless grace, her sword glinting at her side. Her beauty was otherworldly—flawless jade-like skin, piercing eyes that held the depth of eternity, and an aura of power that hummed in the air. An Immortal Fairy had graced the mortal realm.
And the first words she spoke left Zephyr utterly speechless.
"Mortal, I bet you're injured."
Zephyr blinked. "Wha—??? Huh? No, I'm fine?"
"Yes, you are," she declared, her voice leaving no room for argument. With a flick of her delicate wrist, her sleeves billowed like celestial silk, releasing a wave of divine fragrance that enveloped him. An invisible force—pure spiritual energy—wrapped around his body, seeping into his muscles and veins.
Zephyr gasped as warmth flooded his limbs, his fatigue melting away. Every ache, every hidden strain from years of hardship vanished in an instant. He felt lighter, stronger—as if reborn.
Then, the goddess leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Mortal, I have saved you. Now, as your benevolent savior, I demand repayment." She paused, lips curving into a sly smile.
"Will you marry me?"
Zephyr's mind short-circuited.
HHHHOLY SHHHHHHH—?!
Was this real? Had his dashing looks finally attracted the attention of the heavens? Was an Immortal Fairy seriously proposing to him—a mere herb-gatherer?!
Before he could fully process the absurdity, the deal was sealed. The very next day, the two stood in the heart of the city church, bound in matrimony. Zephyr pinched himself repeatedly, half-convinced he was dreaming. A goddess. His wife. Free of charge?!
But the truth revealed itself on their wedding night.
As she traced the scar on his palm—a remnant of a long-forgotten wound—her voice softened. "Do you remember a starving girl in the rain?"
And then, it clicked.
She was the little girl he had saved fifteen years ago.
The lost child he'd shared his last fruit with, the one who had vanished into the arms of an immortal master. Now, she had returned—not just to repay his kindness, but to claim him as hers.
Zephyr could only laugh in disbelief. Fate had a funny way of coming full circle.
——
"Wha... How! How could I ever dislike you, Elaine-chan?" Zephyr murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "What is there to fear? You—my beloved, sword fairy waifu—are a goddess among Immortal Masters, and I… I am just a mortal. If anything, I'm the one terrified of losing your favor." His breath hitched as the thought gripped him. "Just the idea of you one day deciding you don't want me anymore… Shit. I'd rather die than face that."
Before he could spiral further, Elaine silenced him—not with words, but with the press of her soft, crimson lips against his. The kiss was fierce, desperate, as if she could pour all her reassurance into that single touch. Zephyr melted into her, his hands tangling in her silken hair as their breaths mingled. Time blurred, the world outside their embrace fading into nothing.
They didn't part until long after—only when the need for air forced them to break away, foreheads still resting together, hearts pounding in sync.