Airmid didn't understand why she was opening her heart to this human girl.
But with each memory she shared from that afternoon, her heart felt a little lighter—more complete.
The Dea Saint spoke slowly, as if chatting with an old friend. "Then Cranel-san said... he wanted to pursue the smiles of girls."
"...Girls...?" Syr repeated softly.
"Yes."
"..."
Night had fallen. The two human girls faced each other in silence.
When Airmid had mentioned holding hands, Syr's expression had already clouded over. Now, her eyes brimmed like storm-heavy skies, on the verge of tears.
Jealousy, confusion, doubt, affection... A whirl of emotions pressed against her chest, leaving her unable to speak.
After a long pause, she finally asked, "Do you like that boy?"
Airmid brushed a strand of her silver hair behind her ear, her tone hesitant but sincere. "I suppose... I do."
The Dea Saint had worked as a healer in Orario for many years, yet no one had ever stirred her heart this way. Faced with this unfamiliar girl, Airmid found herself surprisingly open.
As if she already knew the answer, Syr pressed on. "Then doesn't it bother you?"
"Bother me? About what?"
"Well... the fact that he's trying to win over several girls at once..."
Under the glow of the Magic Stone lamp, Syr's voice softened into a whisper, like she was sharing a secret before bed.
"Of course it bothers me—but it's not really a problem, is it?" Airmid said without hesitation.
"Not... a problem..."
Those words struck Syr's heart like an arrow exploding on impact.
"Right. Like I said before, Cranel-san dreams of becoming a hero, doesn't he?"
Airmid's eyes shone with quiet conviction. "Then when that happens, wouldn't it be natural—like a king having many queens?"
"..."
Syr stared into the Dea Saint's clear violet eyes, unable to argue.
This beautiful, doll-like girl had already accepted in her heart that the boy would one day become the [Hero] who saved the world.
From that perspective, his so-called harem declaration seemed almost... inevitable.
The world longed for heroes.
Amazonesses would seek a hero's child. Great nations wishing to tie themselves to Orario's glory would eagerly offer marriage alliances.
If one thought far enough ahead, surrounding the hero with admiring girls early on might even spare future conflicts of race or politics.
So long as that boy truly became the hero who shattered the End.
"Do you... really think he can fulfill his dream?" Syr asked again, her voice trembling slightly.
"Yes," Airmid answered without hesitation. "I'll do my best to support him."
"Then... when will you tell him how you feel?"
Airmid blinked. She had answered every question so far without pause, but this time, she hesitated.
"I'm not sure. Maybe tomorrow, maybe months from now... If I can, I'd like to be his first lover."
She froze after speaking, startled by her own words. She had never talked about something like this before—not with anyone.
When Syr heard the word "tomorrow," her heart clenched painfully.
The Dea Saint's love was as pure as her title—untainted, radiant, beautiful in its simplicity.
If that girl, who had faced life and death beside him, confessed her feelings with such innocence and grace...
The ending was obvious.
A Saint and a Hero—an image so perfect it would draw envy from all.
Adventurers would cheer, the healed would rejoice, and even the gods would smile as they blessed their union.
And in that dazzling vision, there was no place for her.
Syr couldn't say a word to Airmid.
She could have tried to calm her, telling her that perhaps the battle had left her confused about her own feelings.
She could have advised her to take her time, to grow closer to him before confessing.
But Syr couldn't bring herself to say any of it.
Faced with such pure love, she couldn't touch it—nor did she want to interfere.
In silence, the gray-haired girl rose and left the room.
Ryuu was waiting by the staircase, having stood there for some time. She hadn't eavesdropped on their conversation.
The elf believed her perceptive friend would handle the tangled emotions between them with care and grace.
Unfortunately...
That trust faded along with the faint trail of tears on Syr's cheeks.
"What's wrong?" Ryuu frowned as she spoke.
Syr didn't respond, walking past her in a daze, her expression empty.
A flicker of regret crossed Ryuu's mind. She shouldn't have told Syr about seeing the boy holding hands with Airmid.
She must have learned something—something that broke her heart like this. Could it really be that the boy and the Dea Saint... had gotten together?
But hadn't the white-haired boy said the one he liked was...
The elf girl didn't understand much about love. Her mind tangled like knotted thread—the harder she tried to think, the tighter it became.
Eventually, she gave up on reasoning altogether and hurried to catch up with her friend.
Before Ryuu could even speak to comfort her, Syr suddenly seemed to realize something. She quickened her pace, murmuring to herself.
"The first one... the first one..."
Her whispering voice was swallowed by the noise of passing adventurers. No one noticed anything strange—no one except Ryuu, who clearly heard the words repeated under her breath.
But their meaning... the elf girl couldn't grasp.
...
Naaza led God Miach up to the tavern's second floor.
Airmid sat on the bed, staring blankly out the window.
"Seeing you still have time to sit here spacing out makes me feel better already."
Naaza set a basket of fruit down on the bedside table.
Airmid blinked, slowly coming back to herself. Her earlier talk with that human girl still lingered in her mind like a warm dream she couldn't forget. The only reason she was here at all, uninjured, was because that same girl had urged her to rest.
"Naaza, if you're here to make fun of me, I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood," Airmid said quietly.
"Miach-sama, I told you—there's no need to bring her gifts," Naaza said sharply. "She's a healer. Her wounds are already healed. Sitting here like this, she must have other motives."
"Naaza, she just went through that dungeon incident. Don't speak so harshly," Miach reprimanded.
"I'm only stating the truth. If you ask me, she's probably waiting for that white-haired boy to come visit her."
Naaza said the words as calmly as if stating the weather.
The moment Airmid heard "white-haired boy," memories of her earlier words came rushing back—
That she liked him.
That she might confess tomorrow.
The first one...
Why—why had she said such embarrassing things so easily?!
Her cheeks burned bright red.
"..."
Naaza stared at the blushing Dea Saint, falling silent at the unexpected reaction.
The god Miach was the one to break the tension.
"Regardless, Airmid went out without an escort to help our Familia. We bear part of the blame for what happened. Please accept my apology."
"No," Airmid quickly interrupted, stopping the god from bowing. "This has nothing to do with the Miach Familia. I'm the one who should apologize. Because of this incident, Dian Cecht-sama has likely discovered your current situation."
"Don't worry about that," Naaza said. "That god didn't mock our position this time."
Normally, if Miach's shop were destroyed and his Familia members captured, Dian Cecht would have jumped at the chance to sneer at them. But with his own household affairs burning down around him, he clearly had no time to meddle in others'.
Airmid let out a small laugh.
To Dian Cecht, she was probably just a rebellious child going through a phase. She planned to take advantage of that—for as long as it lasted—to help the boy in his adventures however she could.
Watching the radiant smile on Airmid's face, Naaza suddenly realized something.
The "perfect student" she'd always known... had changed. All because of one boy.
How many adventurers had the Dea Saint healed over the years? Among them, surely many were elite adventurers, strong and charismatic. And yet, out of them all, she'd fallen for a complete novice.
Unbelievable.
And yet, thinking of the boy's figure... somehow, it made sense.
A strange sense of purpose welled up in Naaza's chest. She had to help them. Even if they didn't become lovers, the Dea Saint could still be a great help to him.
"Actually, I brought something better than fruit," she said suddenly.
Both Miach and Airmid looked puzzled as Naaza reached into her pocket and pulled out a few tickets.
"Since you're recovering, a good bath is the best medicine."
"...?"
"Don't worry. I'll convince the boy to join you."
Before Airmid could even react, Naaza grabbed Miach by the arm and hurried out of the room—leaving no chance for protest.
Airmid looked down at the tickets in her hands.
Mixed bathing passes.
She said nothing for a long time.