Ren bowed his head in the middle of the training field that had just been wet by the dawn rain. The wooden blade in his hand trembled, not because it was cold, but because he had deliberately let the pulse in his wrist jerk too hard. Around him, Hiro, Akira, Daiki, and Rei stood straight—their sweat mixed with mud, but their gazes still burning with determination. In contrast to Ren who looked unsteady, as if he needed a cane just to stand.
"Sorry… I'm just a servant," he muttered softly, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Maybe I'm not worthy of holding a weapon beside you."
The voice was like a fine thread being slowly pulled. One by one, the heroines who were watching—Alicia, Selene, Maria, and Eiryn behind the trees—closed their steps.
Alicia approached first. Her sword was still in her hand, but she pushed aside her shiny helmet so that her wet blonde hair fell. "Who said that? You stepped forward to face my sword two days ago without flinching." The blue eyes softened, her hand touching Ren's shoulder, slightly pressing the deltoid muscle that he had deliberately let tense. He pretended to wince, and Alicia immediately reached for his left arm, massaging it gently. "Too hard, huh?" she whispered, a hint of worry hidden beneath the sternness of a knight princess.
Maria walked quickly, her white chapel skirt stained with mud, but she didn't care. The thin healing light at her fingertips spread to Ren's arm. "You're shivering," she said softly. Her warm fingers sank into Ren's skin, sending out gentle vibrations. Ren responded with a faint smile, as if holding back his embarrassment. Maria looked up, her cheeks flushed with the feeling of being useful.
Akira glanced at her but returned his focus to the training; Selene, instead, closed her book, walking toward Ren with measured steps. She cleared her throat, then reprimanded, "You mustn't underestimate your body's limits." Her words were cold, but her silver hand reached for Ren's chin, adjusting the angle so that his eyes were looking directly at her. Behind the reflection of those gray irises, there was a faint warmth—ice that was starting to crack again. "Meet me in the lab tonight. We'll learn which breathing pattern will keep your muscles from getting tense." The word "laboratory" sounded like an invitation to the most private of spaces.
From behind the shade of the trees, Eiryn peered out with green eyes. She moved her fingers, blowing a gentle breeze that brushed the raindrops from Ren's hair. A subtle, almost undetectable care—but Ren felt the soothing touch of spirits on his scalp.
"Thank you… all of you," Ren said softly, his voice shaking. He blinked, as if on the verge of tears from emotion. Hiro clapped him on the back with a loud laugh, unaware that this humble servant was weaving a tighter web.
Twilight poured golden light over the palace roof as Ren sat on the marble steps, gazing out into the empty courtyard. He deliberately let his breath become heavy, shoulders rising and falling slowly. The sound of light footsteps approached—Alicia. No armor this time, just a thin blouse and a pair of cloth training pants that accentuated the curve of her slender waist. She sat beside Ren, her knees touching his.
"You often push yourself," she said softly. "Why?"
Ren took a deep breath, staring at his own hands. "Because… if I'm useless, it'll be easier to throw me away." He didn't look at Alicia, but he knew the ebb and flow of her breath. The warrior princess bit her lip—her gaze softening into a protective one.
"I… am afraid too," Ren continued, his voice trembling under control. "Afraid to stand beside those you are destined to be. I am just baggage, a misplaced calling."
Alicia took his hand, holding it tightly. She let her fingers cool slightly so that Alicia's grip would feel warmer. She massaged the back of Ren's hand with her thumb, and Ren trembled slightly—a tremor she faked, but the effect spread up Alicia's arm. A strange chill rose to his cheeks.
"It's not your destiny that's wrong," she whispered, so close that the scent of thin sweat and rose soap mingled. "Maybe your destiny just hasn't been written yet."
Ren lifted his head slowly, letting their eyes meet. At such close range, he saw wet eyelashes, a small teardrop on the tip of her nose, and a subtle tremor on her half-parted lips. He almost kissed her—but held back, taking a shaky breath, pretending to push away the growing feeling.
Alicia turned her head quickly, hiding her blush, then got up on the pretext of cleaning her sword. Ren stared at her back, letting her warm gaze linger on Alicia's skin longer than it should have. The princess walked faster, as if afraid to look away.
As night fell, the underground laboratory was lit only by purple crystals. Selene sat on a high chair, her silver hair tied loosely, her slender neck exposed to the dim light. She invited Ren to sit on the small chair in front of her. A vase filled with a steaming mint potion billowed, spreading coolness.
"Cover your eyes with a cloth," she ordered softly.
Ren obeyed. Cold silk covered his eyes, blinding his vision but heightening his other senses. Selene's voice drifted behind him. "Breathe in… hold… then slowly release."
Cold fingers touched Ren's temples, massaging a point. The touch was gentle but throbbing. Selene guided his breathing: in, hold, release. With each breath, her fingers moved down to his jaw, then to the back of his neck, pressing gently. Ren let out a soft snort—half comforted, half deliberate.
"Feeling hot?" Selene whispered close to his ear, her breath hitting the skin of his neck.
"A little," Ren replied softly. He straightened his back, and his shoulder rested on Selene's flat stomach as she stood close by. The witch didn't move away; instead, her hand moved to his shoulder, massaging the hard muscle she had allowed to tense. When Selene's finger pressed against the sensitive spot at the nape of his neck, Ren let out a sharp exhale—a low sound that rippled through the silent room. Selene gulped, as if she were also feeling the currents rising and falling beneath Ren's skin.
Ren gripped the arm of the chair, pretending to endure the pain. "Please… continue," he pleaded hoarsely.
Selene nodded, whether she realized it or not. Her fingers dropped to his chest—just pressing above the cloth, but enough to ignite the embers. Through the fabric, she could feel Ren's heartbeat, hard, fast. Selene closed her eyes, tracing the lines of his muscles with her fingers as a "mana guide." The scientific touch turned intimate. Ren deliberately tilted his head, so that his lips almost touched Selene's wrist. Warm breath on the pale skin made the witch moan softly—a small sound, barely audible, but exposing the fragility of the cold layer.
Selene pulled her hand away suddenly, taking two steps back, her face pink behind the purple light. "T-that's enough for tonight," she said, her voice cracking softly.
Ren removed the blindfold, looking at her with moist, grateful eyes. "Thank you, Lady Selene. I… feel much lighter."
Selene bowed her head slightly, then turned quickly, hiding her blush. As she stepped out, she patted her chest, trying to steady her breathing. But the strange heat still swirled in the pit of her stomach. She touched her own lips, as if just realizing how the man's breath had brushed against her skin.
In the corner of the dark chapel, Maria knelt before the small altar, closing her eyes, reciting a prayer. But her mind wandered. The image of Ren trembling in the field, his fragile voice, his needy gaze—all of it stuck more strongly than the verses of the bible. She was too solemn to hear Ren's footsteps approaching.
Ren stood a few steps behind, not wanting to disturb the prayer. But Maria opened her eyes, found his figure, jumped slightly.
"I'm sorry…" Ren said, "I didn't mean to—"
"No, no, I… just prayed that you would be given strength." Maria stood, clutching her rosary. "I'm sure the God of Light has a plan for you."
Ren lowered his head, pretending to hold back his emotions. "Sometimes it's hard to believe in that plan."
Maria held his hand, her brown eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "If you don't believe in destiny, trust me. I will pray for you every day."
Ren's hand turned, clasping Maria's fingers, gently but firmly. He lifted Maria's hand to his cheek, tasting the sweet scent of the holy rose. Maria held her breath, her heart racing; a faint sense of guilt was replaced by a strange warmth that spread through her arm. She didn't pull her hand away—instead she let Ren's fingers slide between them.
Ren closed his eyes, whispering, "Your heart's prayer… is stronger than any spell."
Maria bit her lip, then nodded slightly. Their hands remained intertwined until the candlelight flickered, casting long shadows on the chapel wall.
In the dim garden, Eiryn stood alone, staring at the moon pool. The forest breeze carried the scent of wet earth. Ren approached silently; the wind spirit blew Eiryn's green hair across her pointed ears.
"I… am afraid," Ren said without preamble, his voice hoarse. "Fear of being a burden."
Eiryn turned, her emerald eyes shining softly. She pressed her palm against his chest; the wind spirit swirled around him, calming his heartbeat. "Your body speaks the truth," she said softly. "But fear is a root that can grow into a great tree… if watered gently."
Ren lowered his head, letting Eiryn take his hand and guide it to the surface of the pool. In the reflection of the calm water, he saw himself small among the heroines standing behind him—Alicia, Selene, Maria, and Eiryn—all looking at him with warm eyes.
The water rippled slightly, and Ren's reflection seemed to grow larger, standing on par with them. Eiryn smiled faintly. "Your power is not a sword—but a root that reaches into the hearts of others. That is why we are here."
Ren stared at her, his lips trembling. Unconsciously, his thumb brushed the back of Eiryn's hand. The night wind caressed their skin, carrying the faint whisper of leaves—like the blessing of a forest spirit.
Late at night, Ren lay in his room, letting the moments of the day roll by. Gone was the fragile mask; he grinned faintly. Alicia's praise, Selene's massage, Maria's prayers, and Eiryn's poetic words now circled his mind like a flute of many notes in unison. He recorded the details of the feel of their skin, their voices, their scents, and the light in their eyes. He sealed the notebook with a blood seal, writing a single sentence:
The seed of empathy has grown into a branch of trust. The branch will bear the fruit of desire… just a little more moonlight is needed.
Outside the window, the crescent moon shone pale, as if smiling knowing the secret that had just been carved.
That same night, in their respective rooms, the four heroines woke up almost simultaneously. Alicia pressed her chest, her heart pounding every time she remembered Ren's grip. Selene found her hands still trembling slightly, a strange heat trapped beneath her skin. Maria touched her lips, as if she could feel Ren's soft whispers there, and Eiryn stared at her empty palms, feeling a gust of wind in her heart.
Four hearts linked by a single knot—a knot spun by a man they thought was fragile. And none of them realized yet, that tomorrow morning… the knot would tighten until it would be impossible to untie.