Chapter 115: A Nightmare’s Embrace

Wade still had another hour to spare for his idleness.

He stealthily climbed through the window. The instant his hand touched the sill, his White Knight armor dissipated, leaving him as silent as a fading shadow.

He peered over the window frame, his gaze falling upon Lamia, who was still deeply wrapped in her blankets on the bed.

Today, he had not sensed any trace of Lamia’s magic. Her blankets were pulled tight around her. Had she not detected their demonic aura this morning?

Wade wasn’t certain, but he had entered through the window as usual.

Even if Lamia knew, what did it matter? She was already aware of everything she needed to know. While he still had to outwardly conceal his identity as the White Knight, revealing other minor details in front of her was inconsequential, as she already knew his true nature.

Returning to the bedside, Wade noticed a change in Lamia’s posture since he had left. She was curled even tighter, transforming from what resembled a loaf of bread into a snug donut, practically monopolizing the entire bed.

Wade leaned against the bed, pondering how to find a comfortable position for himself. However, to avoid disturbing Lamia, he could only twist and contort, squeezing himself onto the bed like a piece in a complicated puzzle.

How could he, the esteemed White Knight, not even sleep comfortably in his own bed?

Well, there was nothing for it. Such was the consequence of Lamia’s unrestrained sleeping style.

Wade sighed helplessly, turning onto his side and curling up slightly, as if to encompass Lamia within his embrace.

Indeed, this was the only position that allowed him to barely share the bed with her.

‘After all, no one truly enjoys sleeping on the floor.’

Quiet breathing, a steady heartbeat.

Wade opened his eyes, feeling somewhat disoriented.

He stretched, his back aching—a clear sign he hadn’t slept well.

He was now on his way to the Church, a path he knew he had traversed countless times.

Each journey always felt somewhat bothersome. Sitting through endless sermons inevitably induced irritation.

‘Where’s my notebook? Where did I put it?’

Wade waved his empty hands, a frown creasing his brow.

He always carried a notebook to the Church as a symbolic gesture, though he rarely took notes. Sometimes, out of sheer boredom, he would doodle in it.

No one could check his notes anyway. Within the Knight Order, only the Great General held authority over him, and the Great General was fully aware that Wade’s attendance at meetings was often merely to fulfill the quota of knights, or even to attend on his behalf.

Thus, the Great General paid no mind, as long as Wade showed up. Anything else was fine.

The streets were as lively as ever. Carriages passed by, vendors hawked their wares, minstrels sang on street corners, and noblewomen ventured out to shop.

Wade wove through the crowds, making his way from the Knight Order headquarters to the Church. It was just three streets and a central plaza away.

****

“W-what is that?!”

A piercing scream cut through Wade’s ears. The sharp cries of women made him uneasy. Instinctively, he looked towards the source of the screams, quickening his pace.

If someone needed help, he would always be the first to rush forward, whether as the White Knight or as a knight in the public eye. He was responsible for the safety of the populace.

But—

What was that?

‘Ah, what is that?’

Amidst the screams, Wade saw something fly out from the top of the clock tower at an incredibly high speed—or, more accurately, it lost its balance and was flung directly from the height.

It was black, towering, and emitted a sharp light.

“The Black Demon Lord?”

In an instant, every hair on Wade’s body stood on end. He sprinted forward, running against the panicked crowd, taking care not to harm anyone.

‘The Black Demon Lord?’

‘Damn it—Lamia?!’

‘How is that possible? No, something’s wrong—how could Lamia appear there, in broad daylight, wearing that black Demon Lord armor?!’

The very next second, Wade saw another figure, one he knew intimately.

It was a color entirely different from the Black Demon Lord’s—pure, pristine white, reflecting the sunlight. The long blue tassel on its helmet stood rigid from the extreme speed of its aerial dash.

“That’s me?!”

More precisely, it was the White Knight.

At least, the armor was the White Knight’s armor, and the sword, condensed from light, was the White Knight’s sword.

But he was clearly here, still running towards that direction. How could it be that…

‘…he could raise his sword against Lamia?!’

Had Wade never experienced such a thing before?

No, no, he had experienced it far too many times.

It was always like this whenever he went to the Demon Lord’s Castle. He, in his White Knight armor, would clash fiercely with the Black Demon Lord. Both of them would hold nothing back.

Such mid-air battles were not uncommon; either of them could be sent flying by the other.

However, witnessing this scene from a third-person perspective was a first.

‘No, no, no—is perspective the issue now?’

‘Not now! How can he raise his sword! Not now! White Knight—!’

‘That person isn’t me, who is it?!’

‘Is it a silhouette of my past self?’

‘Is it someone else disguised as me?’

‘Or is it—the deepest, most hidden fear within my heart?’

‘Yes… after all, you are enemies, and this day was bound to come.’

The sound of wind carried indistinct words to his ears, but Wade didn’t hear them, or rather, he could no longer hear them.

“—Lamia!!!!”

He watched with his own eyes as the dazzling longsword pierced the Demon Lord’s chest in mid-air.

He saw the black armor shatter, layer by layer, turning into ashes.

The Demon Lord’s heavy body plummeted from the sky. After a tremendous crash and a cloud of smoke, what he saw was splattered blood, and… and…

“Ahhh—Lamia… Lamia!!!”

…Lamia’s shattered remains.

“Lamia, Lamia, Lamia… Lamia—?!”

He no longer knew how to form words. He stumbled and ran to the black body. He saw the shattered armor, and the faint red eyes visible beneath the faceplate.

“Ha… ugh…”

His breathing was accompanied by the gurgling sound of blood in his lungs. Lamia’s trembling pupils struggled to look at him, as if trying to recognize, trying to confirm.

“Mm… ugh…”

She could not breathe, could not speak. Even moving her lips was incredibly difficult.

“Wa… Wa…”

“Lamia… Lamia…”

Wade seemed to have lost the ability to speak. He held Lamia tightly, but could only watch as the black armor grew increasingly soiled. The rattling sound, *kaka-kaka*, was like the footsteps of a grim reaper.

“I—I—”

“I’ll save you—Lamia, don’t die, don’t… don’t die, Lamia, I’m here, I’ll save you—I, I’ll save you. Your wound… Lamia, let me see your wound, your black armor is covering it, Lamia, your wound!”

“Wade—”

She struggled to move her lips, calling his name.

“I’m here, I’m here, Lamia… I’m here, don’t die, Lamia…”

“No—Wade—no—”

Lamia gasped, gripping Wade’s hand tightly.

“Don’t… don’t, here, you…”

“Lamia, I’m here, Lamia—”

“Wade—”

“Wade—”

“—Wade!!”

“—?!”

Another sharp scream pierced his ears. Wade abruptly opened his eyes, his body trembling, forcing him to take several deep breaths before he could finally move his eyeballs and regain some control over his body.

“…Ah…”

“Ah!”

He looked up and saw familiar red eyes and long purple hair.

It was different from before.

The red eyes were not yet veiled with gray, nor was the long hair stained with blood.

Lamia was here.

Lamia… was still here.

“Wade, why are you—mhm?”

Lamia looked at the pale-faced Wade with a mix of nervousness and confusion. She was about to ask something, but in the next second, Wade embraced her tightly. More accurately, he buried his head directly into her chest.

“…”

Lamia was somewhat at a loss, but she gently patted his back and stroked his head.

“Did you have a nightmare? It’s alright, Wade… it’s alright.”

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