The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 101

The wind blew through the wooden planks. They sat like that for a long time, holding each other in a silence so absolute it felt blind.

In some perfect moments, words are unnecessary. Her heart pounded as if submerged underwater.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?”

When their breaths finally matched, Veronica asked. Her quiet voice echoed through the deep abyss of space.

“Today, I killed someone against my will. The blood on my clothes isn’t from the Bahamut—it’s His Holiness the Pope’s.”

It had been tormenting her all along. Even now, hiding the bloodstained white robe under a black cloak, she wondered—did Leon truly not care about the pope’s death? Most knights had grown up regarding the pope as a father. To Leon, who had grown up without a family, what had the pope meant to him?

Leon remained silent for a long time, then lowered his gaze, staring at the cloak as if he could see the blood beneath it. As she had expected, he neither disparaged the dead pope nor tried to justify the killing. Instead, he whispered,

“If that’s how you see it, then the one who should be afraid isn’t me—it’s you.”

You are not alone.

“Do you have any idea how many people I’ve killed?”

His lips twisted sorrowfully as he spoke. It was far from arrogance or cruelty. Veronica remained still, gazing up at him.

“Do you even know who that bastard really is? Do you suck him off every night without knowing? Huh? Before the damn Bahamut crawled up, that bastard ran around slaughtering us in the name of a holy war or something!”

She recalled the cold-hearted man she had first met. The ruthless gaze that demanded sacrifice.

But if he had been purely cruel, he wouldn’t have needed to run from guilt. He wouldn’t have needed to wear a mask and feign indifference, or sever his emotions to keep from feeling sorrow.

“I don’t know. What I heard was different.”

When she shook her head, Leon furrowed his brows as if to ask what she meant.

Veronica continued quietly, “The Leon Berg I know is the hero who infiltrated the enemy lines of Ruega alone. The man who beheaded the enemy general to prevent a remote frontier city from suffering unnecessary casualties.”

“……”

“He’s notorious for executing spies cruelly, but I heard it’s to prevent future betrayals. He was once condemned for failing to protect Hassen, a noble retreat, but in truth, he was guarding the Black Forest along another route. The Schwarzwald in Kaisenmeer, the largest forest in the region, shelters all the world’s insignificant creatures.”

She had heard endlessly about the commoner-born holy knight. Even the Bahamut recognized the Red Knight’s name. He was a hero to the common people. She knew his life well.

“I know you always chose the lesser evil to prevent greater sacrifices. That’s your way. So, this situation is different from mine.”

A necessary evil to prevent disaster. It suddenly occurred to her that the same applied to herself. She let out a faint chuckle at the thought. Leon stared at her lips as if entranced.

“Now, I understand why you lied to me. Honestly, I would have done the same. If deceiving one person meant saving the world, who wouldn’t choose that? Only a fool would pick the individual.”

She knew—once she left, he would believe he had been abandoned. The thought of him struggling with guilt, with no one to grieve for him, made her unbearably sorrowful. Her feet refused to move. So, Veronica pulled out the knife lodged in her heart and showed it to him.

It’s okay now. I’m okay, so you should be too.

“So, you don’t have to feel guilty anymore. I’ll forgive you.”

“Veronica.”

“Be free. I want you to be happy.”

She smiled with all her heart. His eyes flickered like flames. Leon opened his mouth several times, only to close it again without speaking.

Then, as Veronica tried to pull away, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back, lifting his cold gaze.

He stared at her fiercely, as if gripping onto a vanishing illusion. His piercing eyes burned with an intensity that was almost frantic.

“What if I refuse?”

His voice was low.

“What if I want to sink to the bottom of the sea, burdened by my sins?”

He pulled her thin arms, making her wrap them around his neck. As their bodies pressed together, her head naturally tilted back. Her waist and chest were crushed against his hard armor, yet she barely noticed. She held her breath, looking up at him.

Leon whispered as if engraving a vow, “Don’t forgive me. Don’t release me from these chains. Stay by my side until I suffocate and die.”

His violent breath mixed with hers, making her dizzy. When she didn’t answer, he pressed his thumb against her lower lip, parting them slightly as if to speak.

Veronica’s breath came in ragged gasps. Just recalling the pleasure she already knew made her body heat up. She felt his gaze tracing the path down her nose, lingering where her lips parted. As the pink membrane of her mouth became flushed, his throat twitched involuntarily.

“Do you want to do it?”

Veronica asked in a hoarse voice. Her words were muffled by his pressing lips.

“As if.”

A blatant lie.

“How could I hold you like this, covered in filth?”

The wind carried the metallic scent of blood. Her hair swayed lightly, yet his gaze remained fixed, unmoving. His attempt to change the subject had failed. Veronica knew he was waiting for an answer.

“I…”

In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Because she had to leave. Because she couldn’t leave without letting him go first.

When she finally shut her mouth, the light faded from Leon’s eyes—like a snowstorm ceasing, leaving behind only a pitch-black night.

As Leon slowly withdrew his hand, the wind brushed against her cheek. Veronica steadied her breath, looking up sadly at the man’s now expressionless face.

As if the strands of hair brushing against his forehead bothered him, Leon ran a hand through his hair a couple of times. His throat moved roughly, as though suppressing something.

“The noise outside has died down. It’s time to go.”

He muttered while turning his head. Only when he let her go and stood up, extending a hand to her, did she realize it.

They weren’t leaving—they were running away.

Leon was not the kind of man to be the first to let go of a hand he had taken.

***

Tension seeped through the narrow gap of the creaking door. Holding her breath, Veronica peered outside and whispered, “Where are we going?”

“To the barracks, for now.”

“Deeper into the military camp? Why?”

Startled by the unexpected answer, she asked again. Given what she had overheard from the knights earlier, she had assumed he would say the church.

“There are things I left behind, and we need to search the camp for any surviving warhorses. I originally planned to go alone, but…”

Leon finished his sentence while fastening the cloak she had returned to him.

“Strangely, I don’t want to be apart from you.”

“You must really like me.”

“Do I need to say it for you to know?”

“Yes. Otherwise, I still wouldn’t be sure.”

Leon halted for a moment, lowering his head. Even as she felt his gaze pouring down on her, Veronica didn’t turn around.

Instead, she focused on the assimilated ones staggering about. As long as they followed the Bahamut’s orders, they would keep moving until death. Just the thought of having to kill them made her mouth go dry.

“If it’s too much, there’s no need to engage.”

Behind her, the shrill sound of a blade being drawn pierced her eardrums. Veronica frowned in thought before speaking.

“Is this a habit of yours?”

“What is?”

“Taking on all the guilt by yourself. You did the same when we left Aseldorf. You were the one who said we should run away, so I wasn’t responsible for anything.”

As she spoke, Veronica lightly kicked open the door. The rusty hinges groaned as assimilated ones staggering nearby slowly turned to face them.

“Don’t steal my sins, too. This burden is mine.”

As if in agreement, Hennessis let out a sharp resonance. Veronica took a deep breath. She braced her legs.

She killed, killed, and killed—then ran.

Her breath ran ragged, her lungs screamed in pain. Sparks flared as buildings crumbled, and Bahamut leapt out from unexpected corners. By the time they found an intact stable, she nearly exclaimed in disbelief, calling it a miracle.

The surviving horses stomped their hooves and neighed in agitation at the sight of them. Leon shattered the stable gate, releasing them all before seizing the reins of a warhorse. As the assimilated ones pursuing them scattered, distracted by the stampede, they quickly mounted a horse and galloped away.

The massive warhorse didn’t panic or resist—it calmly launched into a powerful stride. Only then did Veronica recognize the horse she was riding. Glossy black fur and an unusually large build—there was no way she wouldn’t recognize such a magnificent creature.

It was Nightstar. The gentle horse she had named in the wilderness was carrying them forward once more.

By coincidence, or perhaps an unrelenting fate, the three of them had reunited and were moving together again. There was no longer any point in pretending not to notice the signs. The cycle was repeating itself. Was this what the old saying meant—that time moves in circles for those who enter the wilderness?

A pang of sorrow tightened her chest, as if she had reunited with a childhood friend. Horses have excellent memories. Nightstar surely remembered the journey they had shared across the wilderness.

As steadfast as a great beast, the powerful warhorse trampled the assimilated ones in its path without hesitation. Watching the barracks grow closer, Veronica shouted over the rushing wind.

“They’re coming at us from all directions—how do you plan to stop?”

Perhaps due to the fierce wind, Leon didn’t seem to hear her. Instead of answering, he only spurred the horse forward. Veronica, startled by the looming tents ahead, squeezed her eyes shut.

The horse charged into the barracks without hesitation, and Leon snatched something up before galloping straight out. As he slashed through a tent, the horse leapt high into the air.

When Veronica opened her eyes again, they were on an open road.

Corpses littered the streets leading to the city center. A murder of crows flapped their wings and scattered before the thundering hooves.