Selene’s jaw dropped when I told her that her mother might actually recover from her illness. Her eyes were wide, and she didn’t bother hiding the shock on her face.
Zeruel, on the other hand, was so stunned that she collapsed onto her knees.
“I-Is that really true?” she stammered, her face a mask of disbelief. She seemed unable to fully grasp the news.
“Well, there’s a lot of data suggesting it might be true,” I said. “But there’s no guarantee that it will lead to a full recovery for your mother. While it’s not a certainty, it also isn’t completely out of the question.”
Tears welled up in Zeruel’s eyes, and she started sobbing, “T-Thank goodness…” She cried as she wiped away the tears that fell in steady streams. “Thank you, Leon…”
Selene expressed her gratitude with heartfelt thanks as she joined Zeruel, wrapping her arms around her sobbing sister. Both of them cried openly in front of me. Watching the two sisters like this tugged at my heartstrings. It felt good, and the warmth I felt had nothing to do with sex.
However, the method to ensure her mother’s recovery was still something I couldn’t reveal to them. I knew Zeruel wouldn’t accept it. So, for now, I kept that part of the truth hidden.
***
I returned to my dorm that day, relieved to find that Yr was no longer staying here. One of my Shadows had managed to locate her dorm key, so I returned it to her. Now, all I had was some peace and quiet.
Lately, my days at the academy had become monotonous. I couldn’t quite figure out why, but something felt off, like a crucial piece was missing from my daily routine. Sure, there were still enjoyable moments and days that were pretty good.
One of those highlights was getting to sleep with Professor Rose and maybe even getting a bit closer to Yr.
But other than that, nothing stood out as truly amazing.
“Maybe it’s because Shredica isn’t around anymore…”
Those words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them. I had no clue why I said them. Maybe they were my real feelings coming to the surface… But hold on, does that mean I’m actually missing Shredica? Of all people? No fucking way. I didn’t want to miss that woman. So why did those words escape me without warning? Was it because, deep down, I wanted to be ordered around by her and feel the weight of her intense glares? Well, not really. I wasn’t a masochist. So then…
I should just let it go. If I kept analyzing this, I’d be stuck in a never-ending cycle of overthinking. So, I decided to lay back in bed and try to get some rest.
But just as I was about to sink into sleep, a knock on my door interrupted the quiet
“Who could it be at this hour?”
Don’t tell me it’s Shredica? Nah, that’s just dumb. We’d already said our goodbyes, and there was a high chance we’d never see each other again.
I dragged myself to the door. When I opened it, the dim light from the hallway revealed a brown-haired woman standing there. Zeruel.
“What are you doing here? Isn’t your dorm in the Gold Dormitory?” I asked her.
There was something off about her tonight. For one, a distinct citrusy scent clung to her—cheap perfume, the kind you’d find in Market City. It was the same smell that cheap prostitutes wore in rundown brothels. Even though I usually couldn’t stand it, somehow, on Zeruel, it weirdly fit.
Zeruel was usually clad in her academy uniform, even when there wasn’t a single class scheduled. But tonight, she wore something entirely different. A one-piece dress, thin as a whisper, more like a negligee than a proper outfit. The fabric, though beautiful in its simplicity, screamed of being on the cheaper side. With my Perfect Eyesight, I could make out every curve, every detail beneath that flimsy cloth—there was nothing underneath, no bra, no panties. The negligee was so sheer that her nipples pressed visibly against the fabric, teasingly outlined in the dim light.
“Can… Can I come inside?” she asked, her voice carrying a delicate tremor, almost as if she were unsure of what she was about to do.
“I guess you may,” I replied, pushing the door open wider and letting her step in. The citrus perfume she wore wafted through the room, a pungent assault on my senses that lingered in the air.
“May I sit?” she asked, her eyes glancing toward the bed.
“You can,” I said, and she elegantly settled onto the edge of my bed.
“I want you to sit beside me,” she said, patting the spot next to her on the bed with a hint of urgency. “Can you?”
I moved over and took my place beside her. There was no real reason to refuse, so I did as she asked.
I had a pretty good idea why Zeruel was acting this way. It had to be because of the weight that had been lifted off her shoulders—she was finally free of the burden that had been dragging her down. Her current behavior seemed to reflect that newfound relief. now she was left with a different kind of pressure—perhaps a compulsion to repay the relief she had been given.
She nervously fidgeted with her thumbs, her eyes downcast, avoiding mine. The light in the room now revealed everything—I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra, her nipples slightly visible beneath the thin fabric of her dress. The rapid, almost frantic rhythm of her heartbeat was audible, betraying her nerves. It was becoming increasingly clear why she’d come here. The way she was acting, it seemed like she was here to repay me somehow—likely with her body, judging by the situation.
“L-Leon, I…” Zeruel began, her voice trembling. I interrupted her before she could continue.
“I think I know why you’re here, Zeruel,” I said, trying to offer some comfort. “But you don’t need to go through with this.”
Her eyes widened in shock and confusion.
I stood up and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around her gently. The soft fabric brushed against her skin, and I could sense the tension in her body relax just a bit.
“I’m not looking for repayment in that way,” I told her, my tone firm yet soothing.
Her eyes fell to the floor, and she whispered, “I guess… my body isn’t enough after all.”
“It’s not like that,” I reassured her. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted, considering how vulnerable you are right now and that we’re alone in this room.”
I didn’t sugarcoat what I said. It was an honest-to-goodness fact that I had a strong desire to fuck Zeruel, even back when I confessed to her. Back then, I was driven by the need to gain her skill, Blessed Sword, and dominate her to claim it. But now, things were different. Now, I wanted to touch her because, in this moment, she was simply adorable. If someone comes to your room in the dead of night, wearing something skimpy and laced with perfume, who wouldn’t be tempted? Even a saint would crack.
But what really got to me was the effort she put into all of this—for me. Zeruel wasn’t exactly rolling in money. When she couldn’t afford to save her mother, she was ready to throw herself into a brothel, selling her body just to scrape together some cash. Luckily, I intervened before it came to that. Yet, despite her struggles, she still came here, wearing that cheap perfume and that flimsy dress. Those little touches might go unnoticed by others, but I saw them. I appreciated them. She was doing all of this for me, after all.
But I couldn’t just accept that kind of repayment—not right now, at least. Besides, there was no way she’d be offering herself like this if she knew what the so-called “cure” for her mother’s illness was. If she ever found out, she wouldn’t just be disappointed—she’d hate me for it.
Because the only way to wake her mother from that coma… was to make her drink my semen.
