The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 7

The fireplace, still flickering with embers, cast faint outlines around the room. Leon lay on the bed, occupying half of it, though Veronica hadn’t noticed when he had returned.

For a moment, Veronica was dazed. Then, as if possessed, she crawled up onto the bed, trembling. She needed him. Help me. Please, this thirst…

She climbed onto his large, firm body, but the man didn’t wake. Even as she leaned over his sleeping face, he didn’t stir. However, the moment her lips parted to kiss him, his tired eyelids lifted, as if on cue.

No, I won’t give him time to resist.

Ignoring his unfocused gaze, Veronica pressed her soft tongue against his lips and sucked as if biting him.

She knew what she was doing was akin to seduction—no, not even a prostitute would touch the man who held a knife to her throat.

But the breath flowing between his cold lips tasted too sweet. Veronica felt an unstoppable urge to dig deeper. Each gasp, each low breath he released sent shivers down her spine.

Her stomach grew warm, and it felt as though her body would burst into flames unless she rubbed herself against him. Ah, the cruel pleasure, as if her brain was about to explode.

Inside his mouth, there was a soft piece of flesh that exuded sweetness with every touch. She sucked on it mindlessly until, by mistake, she released her grip, causing Leon to let out a ragged breath and pull his lips away.

“You really don’t let me rest, do you?”

His growling mumble was thick, like murky water. It was hard to tell whether the half-awake Leon was smiling or mocking her. Still, when her trembling fingers reached up to trace his handsome lips, he stopped speaking.

His eyes lowered, staring blankly at her delicate hand. Or was he not looking at her hand? Veronica soon realized that his darkened gaze had been drawn to the neckline of her tunic, which exposed part of her chest. His previously smiling eyes turned sharp.

“You’re braver than I thought.”

He didn’t turn his head away like a chaste knight. Instead, he boldly swept his eyes over the curve of her body, illuminated by the faint firelight.

Veronica thought, the rumors were true. He was once a promising Holy Knight, but now he was a heretic by choice, a fallen one.

Her whole body felt as though it was turning to gold. Under his scorching gaze, her skin melted with heat. When she tried to pull back, unable to endure his gaze any longer, he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her close again. His mocking voice was eerily calm.

“You wake me up, and now you think you can run away?”

Veronica’s nose was almost touching his as she stared down at him with wavering eyes. The sensation of their bodies pressed together so tightly was intimate and raw. Like two mismatched pieces of a puzzle, locked together in secret, as if born to fit this way.

“Look, you’re reacting to me,” she muttered.

Leon raised his eyebrows in amusement, seemingly understanding her meaning. His Adam’s apple moved slowly up and down, and the indistinct sound of heavy breathing—whose it was, neither of them knew—filled the space between them. The thick, heavy air between them felt ready to ignite and explode.

How much time had passed? How long had they been staring at each other until a tear finally dropped onto his face?

“…My heart hurt.”

“……”

“I had a dream.”

Veronica began speaking, stammering slightly. Her tears kept falling, not from sadness but from the heat. Though it was a repetition of that day, this time her mind was clearer. She understood what she had seen and what she needed to say.

“I was Bahamut. Standing on a cliff, I saw a city beneath me. It was more magnificent than Bayern, and as I looked at it, I felt hunger.”

Leon’s expression vanished in an instant. Through her tears, Veronica continued, “And then I saw a Holy Knight. He was terrified and trying to run away, but I was laughing. The smell was so delicious. The scent was so sweet. So I grabbed him by the shoulder. He struggled, and I opened my mouth. And I, I—”

“That wasn’t you,” Leon cut her off sharply as her voice grew more frantic. She flinched at his words, as if he had heard something unbearable.

Gently, he wiped the tears from her cheeks and repeated slowly, “You didn’t do anything.”

Her tears fell more heavily. She bit her lip, humiliated by her own weakness, but she couldn’t stop crying. Tears, like blood, flowed at their own pace, even if you wanted them to stop. They weren’t particularly painful, but they were suffocating and irritating.

When she was young, her father found her crying very annoying. He said it was fine to shed a few tears, but if you kept sniffling, it meant you were doing it on purpose.

So little Veronica had to hold back. She could cry when she was alone, but when she was around others, she had to swallow her tears, even if it meant looking at the sky. Looking down like this was unacceptable.

“Why are you holding back so much? Just let it out.”

Leon spoke as if it were nothing. Veronica’s eyes widened.

How strange. To hear such words from a frightening, unfamiliar man, words she had always wanted to hear. For him to accept her burning, scorching body and understand her desire to be close to him.

It made her so happy, she felt like crying.

“Then, help me somehow.”

She knew how it sounded, but there was nothing else she could say.

“It’s unbearably hot.”

She let herself go limp, leaning into him. Leon must have felt her desire.

He didn’t say anything. He stared at her with an unreadable expression, wiped away the rest of her tears, and then laid her down beside him. Without another word, he lowered his head and kissed her deeply until she thrashed and begged him to stop, overwhelmed by bliss and pleasure.

The sensation was almost like being burned alive. The room shimmered with heat, and the ceiling seemed to come closer and then drift farther away.

The only cold thing was Leon Berg himself. It was as if an invisible chill radiated from him, and Veronica found genuine comfort in the presence of another person beside her.

“I won’t go.” Suddenly, the quiet voice she had heard that night came back to her. He wouldn’t leave, and she couldn’t leave either. Leon had been right. For now, they would remain together.

It felt as if they were the only two people left in a ruined world.

***

At dawn, Leon slipped out of bed. He was exhausted. More than he had expected. It made sense, given that he hadn’t slept properly in days.

After washing with cold water, he placed the clothes he had picked up the day before and some medicine on the side of the bed where she would see them. Judging by the sound of her soft breathing, she wasn’t experiencing another vision.

Her visions were most likely related to “that” place. A city more magnificent than Bayern. And the presence of a Holy Knight. No matter which direction they headed—north, south, east, or west—the only place that fit the description was the Holy City of Kart. Of course, he would need to wait for more concrete visions.

The worst-case scenario crossed his mind.

“…Benjamin… stop.”

At that moment, the woman stirred slightly and curled up, talking in her sleep. The loose tunic had slipped off one shoulder, revealing her sharp collarbone and the curve of her chest.

Leon stood still for a moment, then pulled the blanket up to cover her neck. Judging by the name she had spoken, she must have been dreaming of a fiancé or a lover.

What had happened to him? Had he survived the burning city and the monster’s jaws?

If he were alive, he would be desperately searching for his beloved. If he were dead, it was its own kind of tragedy. Leon knew his questions were meaningless.

“Either way, you’re bound to stay by my side.”

Her peacefully sleeping face seemed to deny reality. The early morning light settled quietly on her serene expression. He still didn’t know her name. It was like how one doesn’t name a warhorse that would eventually die.

The stray hairs around her mouth swayed with each soft breath she took. Her plump lips, reddened from last night’s touch, were slightly swollen.

An innocent yet provocative woman.

She was like a thorn stuck in his hand. It didn’t hurt unless he touched it.

***

“Breakfast is the same for everyone: oatmeal and bread.”

“No liquor?”

“There’s some ale left.”

Leon nodded as he sat at the bar on the first floor. The middle-aged man with a thick beard, likely the innkeeper, set down a glass first. Leon watched the liquid pour smoothly into the cup and began calculating how much more food he needed to stock up.

“Oh, and if possible, we’d like to stay until noon.”

“Which room?”

“The last room on the fourth floor.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “A double room meant for the staff, I’ve heard. The boys were more than satisfied, so there’s no need for extra payment to stay until noon. They drank themselves silly last night.”

A hundred gold coins. The amount Leon had paid could have rented out the entire inn, were it not for these troubled times. To pay such a sum so easily and then offer to pay more—he didn’t look like a tired refugee either.

As the innkeeper handed Leon a plate of bread, he asked nonchalantly, “Do you think the situation is as serious as it seems?”

“Well, if it were me, I’d leave the city instead of trying to make money.”

“Many young people are already doing just that. But for someone like me, it’s not easy to just abandon my house. Even if I leave behind my sheep, my chickens, and my land, there’s no guarantee that the place I’m going to will be safe. And even if I manage to make it to another region, settling down would still require money.”

It seemed the man had at least considered the possibility of leaving.

Leon absentmindedly thought about the lamb stew he had eaten the day before. The idea of selling off one’s assets to fund an escape was idealistic—if there was enough time for it.

It’s like a frog being slowly boiled in a pot.

“I only hope the newly built walls can hold out as well as Tiran’s.”

The innkeeper’s fingers, which had been tapping absentmindedly on the table, suddenly stopped. Leon slowly lifted his head and repeated, as if to confirm, “Tiran?”