Chapter Four: The Shackles of Dawn and the Mask of the Royal Capital

The first pale rays of dawn, like timid observers, peeked through the broken window of the outpost and silently fell upon the dusty ground. In the beam of light, countless dust particles danced frantically like startled sprites. The chill of the night had not yet completely dissipated, and the air was filled with the scent of decaying wood, damp earth, and a faint, ambiguous, sweet-smelling aroma.

Leon Hart huddled in the corner closest to the door, his back against the cold, rough stone wall, having spent the entire night without sleep. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, his once handsome face now showing only exhaustion, numbness, and a deep-seated despondency. Everything that had happened last night, like the most vicious curse, replayed repeatedly in his mind, every detail so vivid it was suffocating. The fiery intercourse, the wanton moans, the cold commands, and the final phrase that plunged him into the deepest abyss—"a special memory to enhance feelings"... all of this wove together into an invisible net, binding him tightly, tightening more and more, almost suffocating him.

He secretly raised his eyes and looked towards the other end of the outpost.

'Seraphine' had awakened, or perhaps she didn't need to sleep like a mortal at all. She stood by the window, her back to Leon, the morning light outlining her slender and upright figure. She was fully dressed, her white holy dress spotless, her blue cloak draped neatly over her shoulders, her long, silvery-white hair flowing smoothly down her back like the smoothest silk. She tilted her head slightly, seemingly gazing at the gradually awakening forest outside the window, or perhaps simply savoring the subtle sensation of her body bathed in the morning light. That tranquility and sanctity formed a sharp, cruel contrast to her wanton behavior beneath him the previous night.

Not far from her feet, on a pile of grass, the shield warrior Galf and the elven mage Ella remained asleep, their breathing steady, as if they were simply lost in an unusually deep dream. The thin layer of dark energy that had enveloped them had disappeared, but they still hadn't awakened.

'Seraphina' seemed to sense Leon's gaze and slowly turned around. The light of dawn danced on her face, which was as perfect as a creation of the gods, her skin fair and translucent, as if radiating a soft glow. However, when her azure eyes looked at Leon, the unfathomable, cold, and otherworldly quality instantly shattered all illusions of beauty.

“It’s time to go, Leon.” Her voice was cool and steady, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as if the events of last night were nothing more than an insignificant dream. “Wake up your companions, we’re returning to the capital.”

An order is still an order. Leon silently stood up, feeling as if all his joints were rusted, making stiff creaking sounds. He walked to Galf and Ella, knelt down, and gently patted their cheeks.

"Galf? Ella? Wake up."

A moment later, Galf let out a heavy groan, his thick eyebrows furrowing tightly as he slowly opened his large, bell-like eyes. His gaze was initially blank, then suddenly sharpened, and he instinctively reached for the battle axe beside him, only to find it empty.

"Leon? Where...where are we? Where is the Demon King?!" His voice was like muffled thunder, hoarse and wary from just waking up. He struggled to sit up, but the movement aggravated his injuries, causing him to grimace in pain.

Immediately afterward, Ella slowly awoke. Her long, elven eyelashes fluttered like startled butterfly wings as she slowly opened her eyes. Her pale purple eyes first reflected Leon's worried face, then a flicker of confusion crossed them before being quickly replaced by clarity and fear. She sat bolt upright, her movements light and swift, cautiously scanning her surroundings.

“We…are we still alive? Leon, what happened? Where’s Serafina?” Her voice, clear as a mountain stream, trembled slightly. Her gaze quickly settled on the white figure by the window. Seeing Serafina unharmed, she visibly relaxed, but the doubt in her eyes hadn’t completely disappeared.

Leon's heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand. How could he explain? Tell them that their revered saintess had been possessed by the Demon King? Tell them that he had made a humiliating pact with the devil to protect his wife's body (perhaps with a sliver of hope?)? No, he couldn't. This would not only immediately invite the Demon King's devastating ****, but could also plunge his two loyal companions into irreparable danger. He had to continue the act, for Serafina's sake, and for theirs.

“We…we lost.” Leon’s voice was low and hoarse. He lowered his eyelids to hide the surging pain and humiliation within them. “The Demon King’s power…was beyond imagination. We were all stunned by his power. As for what happened afterward…” He paused, trying to make his tone sound like one of relief and confusion after surviving a disaster, “It seems that an unknown **** intervened, or…the Demon King suddenly changed his mind? He left. We were lucky to survive.”

He looked up at 'Seraphina' by the window and **** a tired but relieved smile: "Seraphina healed us with holy magic and we found this outpost to stay temporarily."

Galf and Ella followed his gaze. They saw 'Seraphina' turn around at the right moment, revealing a gentle yet slightly tired smile on her face. That smile perfectly replicated the expression Seraphine usually used when comforting people, even down to the slight curve of her eyes.

“Thanks to the God of Light for His protection,” she said softly, her voice gentle and melodious, tinged with the weakness of someone who had survived a catastrophe. “We are all still alive; that is the greatest fortune.” She walked towards Ella, reached out, and gently grasped the elf’s cold hand. A gentle, holy aura of light magic slowly flowed into Ella, dispelling the chill and discomfort within her. “Are you feeling better, Ella?”

As Ella felt the familiar and warm power of light, the doubt in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by trust and gratitude. "Thank you, Sister Seraphine. I'm alright now," she whispered, grasping Seraphine's hand in return.

Galf rubbed his still aching chest and said in a muffled voice, "Damn it, that demon bastard is really powerful! We're lucky to be alive this time! Once I'm healed, I'll definitely..." He didn't finish his sentence, but the fighting spirit and anger in his eyes showed that he hadn't given up.

Leon watched this "harmonious" scene, but his heart felt like it was being fried in oil. The demon had not only possessed his wife's body, but was also using her identity and power to easily gain the gratitude and trust of his most trusted partner! This was far more cruel than a direct confrontation.

“We must return to the capital as soon as possible.” Leon **** down the turmoil in his heart and said in as calm a tone as possible, “to report the situation here and to ensure you receive better treatment.”

The proposal was unanimously agreed upon by Galf and Ella. After a quick packing, the group left the abandoned outpost and embarked on their journey back to the capital.

The daytime journey was relatively peaceful. Although Galf's injuries hadn't fully healed, his robust physique allowed him to continue his journey. Ella, utilizing the elves' affinity for nature, gathered some herbs along the way to treat the three's external wounds. 'Seraphina' consistently played the role of a gentle, strong, and slightly melancholic saint. She didn't speak much, but every word was perfectly timed—whether it was comfort, encouragement, or a soft prayer. Her flawless performance sent chills down Leon's spine.

He deliberately lagged a few steps behind, silently following at the back of the group, his gaze mostly fixed on Serafina's retreating figure. Watching the curves of her legs, encased in black stockings, barely concealed beneath her flowing gown as she walked, watching her silver hair shimmer in the sunlight, his heart was filled with incredibly complex emotions. Hatred burned like poisonous flames, but beneath that hatred lay a twisted desire he himself refused to acknowledge. Last night's ****, humiliating intimacy had planted a poisonous seed deep within his soul, now quietly sprouting in the shadows. His familiarity with that body, the touch that had once brought him endless pleasure, mingled with the Demon King's icy will, forming a strange and dangerous allure.

He hated this attraction, which made him feel dirty and depraved.

As evening fell, they finally arrived at a small town on the outskirts of the capital. Only half a day's journey from the capital, this place was relatively well-informed, and they could already sense a tense and oppressive atmosphere. The town's guards had noticeably increased, pedestrians hurried by, and rumors of defeat at the front and the possible annihilation of the hero's squad had begun to circulate quietly.

They found a hotel that looked reasonably clean and checked in. To avoid unnecessary attention, they only booked two rooms. Galf and Leon shared one, and Serafina and Ella shared the other.

The simple dinner ended in silence and tension. Galf, exhausted and wounded, went to his room to rest early. Ella also said she needed to meditate to recover her magic and returned to the room she shared with 'Seraphina'.

Leon sat alone in a dimly lit corner on the first floor of the inn, a nearly untouched glass of ale in front of him. The inn's clamor seemed to be separated from him by an invisible barrier; he was immersed in his own pain and struggle, unable to extricate himself.

After some time, a figure sat down on the bench opposite him.

It's 'Serafina'.

She had already removed her blue burqa, wearing only her white holy dress. The dim, yellowish light of the inn's lamp cast soft shadows on her face, making her appear even more delicate and… ****? But this was, of course, an illusion.

“Your performance was terrible, Leon.” She cut to the chase, her voice low so only the two of them could hear, her tone icy with displeasure. “Your eyes, your silence, tell everyone there’s something wrong with you.”

Leon abruptly raised his head, a flash of anger crossing his eyes, but it quickly subsided. He couldn't refute it.

“You need to practice, my ‘husband’.” A faint, mocking smile played on her lips. “Especially in… a more private setting.”

Leon's heart sank. "What do you mean?"

“That means our room is upstairs.” ’She’ glanced meaningfully toward the stairs. “Ella has entered a deep meditation and won’t be aware of anything happening outside. Now is the time for us, ‘husband and wife,’ to be alone and deepen our bond.”

With that, she stood up and walked towards the stairs. After a few steps, she stopped, turned back and glanced at Leon. Her eyes were calm and expressionless, yet they carried an unyielding will.

"Keep up."

Leon sat frozen in place. Reason told him he should refuse, should resist, but the constraints of the contract, his worry for Serafina's soul, and the shameful, stirred emotion deep within him were like three different forces pulling him apart.

In the end, he stood up stiffly, like a puppet on strings, and followed.

Their room was at the end of the corridor. 'Seraphina' had already entered, the door ajar. Leon pushed the door open, went in, and gently closed it behind him.

The room was small and simply furnished. There was a double bed covered with clean but rough linen sheets, a wooden table, and two chairs. As expected, Ella was sitting cross-legged in another corner of the room, eyes closed in meditation, her breathing long and steady, surrounded by a faint magical glow, clearly having entered a state of complete absorption.

Serafina stood by the window, her back to him, loosening her hair and letting her long, silvery-white locks cascade down like a waterfall. Hearing the door close, she slowly turned around.

In the lamplight, her face was soft and beautiful, but the coldness in her eyes made Leon feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

“Now, there are no spectators,” she said softly, beginning to slowly unfasten the clasp at the waist of her white gown. “Let’s continue… last night’s ‘lesson’.”