Chapter 116: A Nightmare’s Embrace

Deep breaths…

Inhale—

Exhale—

Inhale—

Exhale—

Inhale—

“—Wade?”

Lamia’s voice, so familiar and endearing, reached his ears.

Her words carried a distinct blend of concern, worry, and a subtle hint of nervousness.

Her voice was so close that Wade could feel the warmth of her breath against him.

Exhale.

His ragged breath escaped against Lamia’s chest. He couldn’t control it; by the time he realized he was cradled in her arms, his deep breaths had become an involuntary response.

Lamia’s body temperature was typically lower than an average person’s, yet her chest had evidently warmed from holding him. Thus, as Wade pressed his forehead against her, he could feel not only her heartbeat but also a comforting warmth.

“…………”

Wade remained silent, or rather, he pondered what to say, and how to articulate it.

‘Why had he suddenly embraced her?’

‘Why had he begun taking these continuous deep breaths?’

‘Should he confess that he’d had a nightmare? A dream… where she had died?’

“Did you have a nightmare?”

—But Lamia had already voiced the question.

She had actually asked it moments ago, but Wade hadn’t registered a single word. His mind had been consumed with the urgent need to hold Lamia, to confirm she was alive, to listen to her heartbeat, to hear her breath.

Only now did he truly regain his senses, truly hearing Lamia’s voice and discerning the concern and confusion in her tone.

Wade found himself at a loss for how to respond.

He had acted impulsively, it seemed, and now he was unsure how to resolve the situation.

****

Wade felt a prickling sensation in his eyes and nose, and tears had, at some point, begun to well up.

This feeling was truly strange. During the recent nightmare, he hadn’t shed a single tear, yet now, realizing it had merely been a dream and that Lamia was safe beside him, the profound relief made his eyes ache.

‘How utterly embarrassing.’

[What’s wrong? He must have had a nightmare, but what kind of dream could be so terrifying?]

Lamia continued to gently pat Wade’s back, her small yet effective gestures soothing his frayed nerves.

[What kind of dream could scare the White Knight so badly? Did he dream that humanity’s imperial capital had fallen? Or that he’d gone bankrupt? Is he under too much work stress? Or is there something in his life he can’t resolve?]

Lamia’s mind raced, contemplating the possible nightmares Wade might have experienced. In her estimation, the only things that could trouble Wade, the White Knight, were matters of national importance or intractable personal issues.

Regarding herself, she didn’t consider it at all.

Though she had once joked to Lilith about having a beautiful dream where she died and Wade cried over her, it was merely a jest. She knew it was just a dream—

[—’Someone like Wade probably wouldn’t cry for me, would he?’]

“…………!”

This thought echoed in Wade’s mind, causing his breath to hitch.

He opened his mouth, but only the sound of his breathing escaped.

‘Am I… the kind of person who would cry for Lamia?’

For some inexplicable reason, a tremor ran through Wade’s heart upon hearing that thought.

‘What role did he truly play in Lamia’s heart?’

‘Was he an enemy? A target for conquest? Or a husband?’

‘—Did Lamia even understand what a husband was?’

While contemplating his own identity, Wade also considered… Lamia hadn’t even grasped emotions yet. Could she truly comprehend the relationship between a husband and wife?

‘Indeed… his feelings remained incredibly complex.’

“Are you feeling better?”

Yet, Lamia’s concern was undeniably genuine.

She comforted Wade, her body slowly curling further, as if to envelop the entire, somewhat helpless, large man within her embrace.

It was the most primal form of embrace, the most fundamental warmth. To rest in the arms of a loved one, without thought or action, simply lying there, allowing the warmth to permeate.

“…”

“Yes.”

Wade remained still.

He greedily savored Lamia’s embrace, his own body gradually shrinking further against her.

His arms showed no sign of releasing her; he still held Lamia’s waist, burying his head deeper into her chest.

He currently lacked the energy to dwell on the impropriety of their close contact. He was simply reveling in the embrace, finding solace in her continued existence.

It was truly—a nightmare, an absolute nightmare.

He had dreamt of slaying the Black Demon Lord—which should have been his life’s ultimate goal. As humanity’s superhero, he was meant to defeat the Demon Lord.

Yet, when he witnessed that scene, the thread of his sanity seemed to snap. He couldn’t even recall how he had reached Lamia’s side in the dream. His mind had simply gone blank, and all he could do was helplessly call her name.

He couldn’t find her wounds, there were no medical supplies nearby, and he could only watch her black armor shatter, watching her red eyes reflect nothing of his image.

At this thought, Wade trembled again, shrinking even tighter and burying his head deeper.

Lamia, however, did not resist. She simply held him, steady, gentle, even tenderly, resting her chin atop his head, trying to encompass this man, so much larger than herself, entirely within her arms.

“I’m here, you’re safe, Wade. You can tell me anything that’s bothering you; I’ll help you. Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

Lamia’s voice was exceedingly gentle, like a mother soothing her child.

Her words sounded full of strength, yet deep within, she harbored genuine worry.

[What on earth happened… Is it that urgent? Is it a matter of life and death for humanity? What else could be so significant besides a demon invasion? Has the royal city’s treasury run dry? Are the people starving? Or has he contracted some serious illness? No, that can’t be right; his complexion looked perfectly fine yesterday.]

Even in this moment, Lamia’s concern remained solely for Wade and humanity. This Demon Lord, when her companion was distressed, thought only of human affairs, utterly devoid of any self-awareness as an enemy.

Her thoughts were always for others, never for herself.

She never once considered that Wade’s nightmare had been *for her*.

“…I’m fine, it’s just… I didn’t sleep well.”

Wade’s voice was muffled, each word and sentence exhaled against Lamia’s chest, further warming the space within her embrace.

“Didn’t sleep well? Then don’t go to the Knight Order later. Sleep in more at home; I’ll stay with you.”

Lamia’s words sounded as if spoken to a child, telling an unhappy child to skip school and that she would stay home with them.

‘This is too childish, isn’t it?’

Wade grumbled inwardly, yet in the end, he gritted his teeth and responded with a muffled voice:

“Then… alright.”

“I’ll… take the day off today.”