Free Web NovelChapter 11: Apparently Married?
The sobbing didn’t stop.
It quieted, eventually, from broken wails to soft, shuddering breaths against his neck. Her arms remained locked around his torso, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like she was afraid he’d dissolve if she let go.
Ronan didn’t move.
His knees ached from kneeling on the rubble. His throat still burned from the black ichor. The phantom sensation of her fingers around his organs lingered like a bruise beneath his skin.
But he stayed exactly where he was, one hand pressed flat against her back, the other tangled in her moon-pale hair.
"Sarael."
She flinched at her own name. "I’m sorry. I’m still sorry. I’ll keep being sorry."
"I know." He kept his voice low. Steady. The same tone he’d used on wounded hunters who were too far gone for potions. "I’m not going anywhere."
"You can’t promise that." Her voice cracked again. "Everyone leaves. Everyone forgets. Centuries, Ronan. I waited for centuries. And the only reason you came back was because you were dying."
That landed harder than he expected. ƒreewebɳovel.com
She wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t sought her out. He’d crawled into her shrine because he was bleeding out and desperate. If the expedition hadn’t fallen apart, if he hadn’t been the last one left, if that monster hadn’t clawed him open...
He would have never stepped through that archway.
"Then I’m glad I was dying," he said.
Sarael went still against him.
"You’re... glad?"
"Not glad that people died. Not glad about the forty-seven days. But if the alternative was never knowing you were real?" He exhaled, slow and heavy. "Then yeah. I’m glad I crawled into that shrine."
Sarael pulled back just enough to look at him.
Her violet eyes were still rimmed with red, her cheeks still wet. But something shifted in her expression. Something raw and desperate and terrifyingly fragile.
"You’re not just saying it because I almost killed you?"
"Especially not because you almost killed me." ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for something. Like a lie she was so certain she’d find.
Ronan met her gaze and didn’t look away.
Then she kissed him.
It was desperate and hungry and tasted like salt from her tears. Her hands moved from his back to his face, cupping his jaw like he was something precious, something she’d been waiting centuries to hold.
Ronan’s brain short-circuited.
His body responded before his mind could catch up, one hand tightening in her hair, the other pulling her closer. The scent of flowers filled his lungs, thick and sweet and intoxicating.
She made a sound against his mouth. Small and broken and starving.
"Ronan..."
And just like that, she disappeared.
Not in a swirl of shadow or a ripple of darkness. Not with any of the weirdness of her previous vanishings. One moment she was there, warm and solid and pressed against him, and the next she simply wasn’t.
Like a glitch in reality.
Ronan’s arms closed on empty air.
"What the—"
[Affinity: 1%]
He froze mid-breath.
An affinity meter. This was the first time the interface had given him something concrete. Something measurable. A number that quantified his connection to the goddess who had just disappeared from his arms.
"So that’s what it is," he murmured. "That’s what ’scales with affinity’ means..."
Before he could process the implications, another notification flickered across his vision.
[Shadow Stored: Flesh Golem (B-Rank)]
[Storage Full. Cannot Store Additional Shadows.]
[Shadow Storage: 3/3 Slots Occupied]
[Slot 1: Skitter (B-Rank) - Active Summon]
[Slot 2: Skitter (B-Rank)]
[Slot 3: Skitter (B-Rank)]
The golem’s shadow. In the chaos of Sarael’s jealousy and the near-death choking and the kiss that had short-circuited his brain, he’d almost forgotten about the 5,000 EXP kill rotting fifty feet away.
"Right. System, discard the skitter in slot two."
[Shadow Discarded: Skitter (B-Rank)]
[Shadow Storage: 3/3 Slots Occupied]
[Slot 1: Skitter (B-Rank) - Active Summon]
[Slot 2: Flesh Golem (B-Rank)]
[Slot 3: Skitter (B-Rank)]
Ronan exhaled and reached for the Titan Greatbow, using the massive weapon as a crutch to push himself upright.
His legs immediately protested, his throat still ached from the black ichor he’d coughed up. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been wrung out and hung to dry.
But he was standing.
Considering everything that had happened in the last ten minutes, nearly dying, nearly dying again for an entirely different reason, kissing a goddess, getting an affinity meter. Standing felt like a genuine achievement.
He stared at the affinity notification until it faded from view.
[1%]
It wasn’t much. A single percent, barely a sliver of whatever maximum the system recognized.
But it was there.
And it answered the biggest question that had been gnawing at him since he’d first read his skill descriptions.
[Effect scales with affinity to the Goddess.]
Now he knew what that meant. Now he had a number to chase.
More than that, he had confirmation that his interactions with Sarael mattered. Every word, gesture, and time he called her name or offered a prayer or—
"Should I call her my girlfriend...?"
His throat tightened at the thought. Not the choking punishment from before, but a subtle pressure.
A warning squeeze, like a hand resting gently on his windpipe, reminding him that she was listening.
"Not good enough, huh?" Ronan rasped, a dry laugh scraping past his lips. "Alright, not a girlfriend. A magical girlfriend."
The pressure didn’t ease.
"Partner?"
Nothing.
"Lover?"
The faintest relaxation. A millimeter of give, but still not enough.
Ronan closed his eyes and thought about the way she’d looked at him.
The way she’d said mine like it was the only word that had ever mattered. The way her tears had dripped onto his hands while she apologized for hurting him.
"Wife," he said quietly. "My magical wife. Is that better?"
The pressure vanished. Not gradually, instantly, like a door slamming open. And in its place, warmth bloomed across his chest.
A heat that had nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with the goddess hiding in his shadow.
[Affinity: 1.1%]
He stared at the number.
A tenth of a percent.
Barely anything.
But it had moved.
"Unbelievable," Ronan muttered, shaking his head. "But I guess it’s a win."
Ronan hefted the Titan Greatbow onto his shoulder and turned his back on where he defeated the golem.
His body was completely exhausted, his throat was raw, and he was still stuck on the memory of her kiss.
But he had an affinity meter now. He had a flesh golem’s shadow in his storage. He had a path forward, literally and figuratively.
"Wife," he said again, testing it. "My wife."
[Affinity: 1.1%]
No change. Apparently, she wasn’t going to reward him for repeating himself.
"Well, it was worth a try."
