"At last...everything is finally over."
Borrowing Celicia’s authority, Muen lay back in midair, gazing at the azure sky above.
The newborn morning sun, the washed-clean blue heavens—his mind relaxed in an instant. That recent struggle against the Evil God felt like nothing more than a terrible nightmare.
"It feels so long. But if you actually count the time, it wasn’t even that long, right, Your Majesty?"
Muen smiled at the woman beside him. He deliberately used that form of address, yet there was hardly any “respect” in his expression. He even committed a blatant act of disrespect by taking the chance to scoot closer and try to rub up against Celicia’s smooth thigh—only to be shoved away with open disgust.
"For now, it’s only come to a temporary stop. If you say it’s completely over, that’s still too early."
Celicia raised a hand and beckoned. A light breeze swept in—but it wasn’t merely a breeze. Under the Emperor’s authority, invisible ripples spread outward from her as the center, extremely carefully inspecting the sky for any remnants of corruption left behind by the Evil God.
That was exactly why the black curtain still covering the heavens hadn’t dispersed yet, and why the two of them were still up here. An Evil God had personally descended directly above Berland at such close range—if they weren’t careful and overlooked something He left behind, then under that deeply hidden pollution, all the ordinary citizens of Berland could suffer an enormous catastrophe.
This was Berland, a city with an extremely high population density. Even the slightest trace of corruption could lead to terrifying consequences.
So Celicia checked in meticulous detail. Until she was completely sure it was safe, she wouldn’t withdraw the curtain.
"Don’t worry. Once I recover a bit, I can use black flame to help you. Even if there’s leftover corruption, it can’t hide from black flame’s devouring. Ah—right."
Muen comforted her thoughtfully, but when he mentioned recovering...he suddenly remembered what he’d received earlier. He quickly dug into his clothes and pulled out two exquisite small bottles, then tossed one to Celicia.
"This is for you."
"This is...?"
"The captain of the Royal Mage Corps gave it to me. A healing potion she brewed herself."
"The Corps Captain...Miss Phyllis?"
Celicia’s brow lifted. She looked at Muen with a faintly strange expression.
"She gave it to you?"
"Yeah. What’s wrong?"
Muen blinked.
"Miss Phyllis is actually pretty nice. She taught me how to use the forbidden-spell core, and she even gave me something this valuable. It was our first time meeting—I don’t even know how I’m supposed to repay her."
"Nice to you..."
Celicia’s eyes held a puzzled look. She opened the bottle and sniffed it.
"It really is just a healing potion... Could it be she’s completely let go of what happened decades ago? Or was that kind of thing something that guy made up in the first place—baseless rumor?"
"Is there a problem?"
Muen sensed something off from her expression, so he checked the potion too.
But from the potion knowledge he’d learned from his senior, this really was just a healing potion.
And thinking about it carefully, there couldn’t be an issue anyway. This medicine was meant for the Empire’s Empress and the future Prince Consort—how could she possibly dare to poison °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° it?
Unless she wanted to play a little game of “wipe out nine generations.”
"It’s nothing."
Celicia reined in the odd look on her face and said flatly.
"I just heard someone mention that Phyllis and your father—the Duke of Campbell, when he was young—used to have a good relationship. Maybe that’s why she helped you."
"So that’s it."
Muen’s worry—which hadn’t even risen very high—immediately settled back down. Honestly, he’d kept a tiny bit of caution too. He’d been afraid Miss Phyllis might have some hidden motive in being so warm—maybe he’d offended her somewhere and she wanted to teach him a lesson by adding something to the potion to make him embarrass himself.
But with Celicia putting it that way, Muen understood at once.
So it was because of their parents’ connection. Then it wasn’t surprising.
Miss Phyllis really was a good person!
With that last trace of unease gone, Muen stopped worrying. After all, someone kindly gave him something so expensive, and he was still suspecting this and that—it really was extremely rude.
So Muen tipped his head back and drained the potion in one go.
Beside him, Celicia rested her chin on her hand and thought for a moment. Then her gaze suddenly crossed the black curtain and landed on a place far, far away...
And she drank her potion too.
In an instant, it was like swallowing a ball of flame. A searing heat spread from her throat and abdomen through her whole body. The potion hadn’t even reached her stomach before its tremendous efficacy had already merged into her flesh, circulating automatically through her limbs and bones.
Vigorous vitality began repairing the injuries within her.
In truth, neither of them lacked ways to recover. But this potion’s effect was a little different.
It wasn’t merely restoring wounds. It reached into the most hidden places inside the body, healing those subtle injuries that were normally hard to notice.
That was what made it powerful: the more times a body healed and re-formed, the more the newly restored parts would inevitably differ from the “original,” leaving behind hidden damage caused by that distortion of recovery.
Such hidden damage was often difficult to detect. But once it accumulated and erupted, it could cause irreversible harm.
That was also why many warriors had bodies as tough as steel, yet in old age they would still end up warped and deformed, suffering unbearable pain.
"Seriously—worthy of a Truth-Rank mage’s potion. That kind of effect—wiping out all the hidden damage your body’s accumulated in one shot—those ridiculously overpriced potions on the market can’t compare at all. Right, Your Majesty?"
Muen sighed in admiration and asked Celicia beside him.
But...there was no answer.
"Hm?"
Muen turned his head, puzzled, and found Celicia sitting cross-legged there with her thighs—large swaths of pale skin—clearly exposed, her small head lowered, as if she was thinking about something.
"Your Majesty?"
Muen called cautiously.
"..."
"Your Majesty?"
"..."
"My dear Your Majesty, are you—"
"Don’t call me Your Majesty!"
Celicia suddenly snapped her head up and shouted.
Muen jumped, then after a moment of blankness, he tested the waters with a meek voice:
"Celicia?"
"Don’t call me Celicia either!"
"Huh? Then what am I supposed to call you?"
"Call me...call me...call me by my nickname. Cia!"
"Xi...what?"
Muen froze again. That dead-tsundere Celicia was actually asking someone to use her nickname—voluntarily?
What happened? Did she accidentally hit her head fighting Albert?
No, no. This was a recovery potion. If she was injured, why would she “act up” after drinking it?
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Thinking of something, Muen’s heart dropped. He quickly grabbed the empty bottle and sniffed it.
Still nothing unusual—only a strong, pungent medicinal smell.
But...if you thought about it carefully, it was precisely because the medicinal smell was so overpowering that if someone added that sort of thing inside...even if your potion skills were high, you still wouldn’t be able to detect it.
N-no way.
There was no grudge, no feud—why would she...
"Call me Cia!"
At that moment, Celicia abruptly turned her head and looked over.
Her face was still breathtaking—more beautiful than the blue sky and flawless morning sun. But right now, on that pale, flawless face, two clearly abnormal flushes of red had risen.
And those eyes that should have been cool as an ice lake had already melted...not merely melted—more like they’d been warmed under gentle sunlight all day long, turning into the softest, warmest spring water.
Just her gaze alone could soak a person until they went weak.
Alright.
Confirmed.
There was indeed no poison in the potion, and nothing meant to make Muen embarrass himself.
It was just mixed with a tiny bit of the one and only weakness of the all-powerful Empress Celicia...
That damned alcohol!!!
Which meant...
Celicia was drunk again.
"Ci...Cia?"
Muen’s voice trembled.
"Can I ask...you said earlier it was ‘someone’ who mentioned that Phyllis and my father were close. Who exactly is that ‘someone’?"
"Hm?"
Usually so clever, Celicia wobbled her little head and thought for a long time before finally spitting out a single word.
"Bear?"
Alright. Got it. Pink Bear.
And if it was a past story that could get mentioned by that obnoxious Pink Bear, then it was definitely not some hot-blooded youth, bonds of friendship, pure-love-is-invincible...
It was probably some melodramatic mess of “it couldn’t be helped,” “if only,” “I was the one who came first,” and so on...
Which meant...
Dad, you set me up!
Muen’s face twisted with fury. Earlier he’d thought this was some mess he’d caused by accident—now the truth was out. Who would’ve thought that his thick-browed, sharp-eyed dad had left behind this kind of karmic debt too!
Tch! Scumbag!
When I get back, I’m definitely tattling to Mom. Otherwise—
"What are you...thinking about?"
Suddenly, heat and a fragrant breeze washed over him at the same time. Muen felt a warm, delicate body slowly drawing closer.
When he snapped back, Celicia was already very close, staring at him. Those long lashes, delicate as frost-flower, brushed lightly across his forehead—tickling.
His heart itched too.
Right now, Celicia was still in her white dress, hair slightly messy. With alcohol boosting her, she looked sweet and adorable—reason minus one hundred, tsun minus one hundred, cute plus one hundred, seductive plus ten million.
Maybe because her favorability had risen, she seemed gentler than the last time she got drunk—not as hard to deal with.
So with a lone man and woman breathing the same air, it naturally stirred up that restless heat in his chest.
But...
Muen glanced behind him and swallowed unconsciously.
Doing that kind of thing ten thousand meters up in the air—no matter how you looked at it, it was way too intense.
What now? Resist? Catch Celicia off guard and strike first—just knock her out?
Muen was thinking that.
Then, before he could act, his whole body went rigid.
The Emperor’s authority pressed down on him—“gently”—making him understand with brutal clarity: with the strength of a mere fourth-tier warrior, resisting a Crown-Bearer was absolutely impossible.
He didn’t even have the right to say no.
"My consort~"
Celicia lifted Muen’s chin with a finger, teasingly. Her eyes rippled as she spoke:
"You look really...delicious. Can I take a bite?"