Ophelia and Klein stepped into the room.
The door closed softly behind them, sealing away the nighttime clamor of the harbor. The faint scents of lavender and wood floated in the warmth. The embers in the fireplace cast soft shadows across the simple furnishings of the room.
Klein's steps were heavy. He walked to the clothes rack. That alchemical robe seemed to have suddenly doubled in weight. He lifted his arms, a dull ache radiating from deep within his muscles. The robe slid off his body and onto the wooden hanger. The rustle of the fabric sounded exceptionally clear in the silence.
He made no extra movements. His feet slipped out of his shoes. The shoes were kicked aside haphazardly. The cool wooden floor touched the soles of his feet, bringing a fleeting moment of clarity.
He moved toward the bed. The moment his body touched the soft mattress, he let go of all his feigned support. His bones made a faint sound, like a weary sigh. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
In recent days, he had hardly closed his eyes. The high-intensity alchemical experiments had drained his spirit.
The compact battles had pushed his physical stamina to its limit. Now, that accumulated fatigue washed over his limbs like a tide. His eyelids grew heavy, and his muscles throbbed.
He knew he carried alchemical potions to restore his energy in his coat. Those potions could quickly replenish his lost mana and physical strength. However, what he craved now was not a simple energy recharge. He needed a thorough sleep, a total emptying of the depths of his soul. It was a psychological respite rather than a physiological repair.
The silver token Nelisa had given him pressed against his chest. That medallion, engraved with the wave crest, seemed to convey the unfathomable heritage of the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce. Nelisa's frankness and the "way to avoid destruction" she mentioned kept circling in Klein's mind.
He could not understand it. How could a chamber of commerce possess the power to contend with the source of the calamity? What did that gathering of elements actually mean?
And the Sage...
Why did she come here, and why did she entrust the mission to him?
Ah... he still had so many things to resolve.
However, his thirst for knowledge now succumbed to his body's instincts. His thoughts grew sluggish.
His chest rose and fell slowly. He took a deep breath of the lavender-scented air. His lungs expanded and then slowly contracted. He felt the breath flowing through his body, carrying away a trace of tension.
Ophelia stood by the bed. She did not speak. Her golden eyes gazed intently at Klein. She watched him lower his guard, watching the stiffness in his body loosen bit by bit. She captured the unmistakable weariness between his brows.
The corners of her mouth curled slightly. A very soft laugh escaped her throat.
The curve of her lips deepened quietly in the flickering shadows of the fireplace.
The laugh was very light.
It was so light that it did not disturb a single speck of dust in the room.
Klein just lay there, facing the unfamiliar ceiling, his silhouette leaving a clear impression on the soft bed.
He did not pull up the covers.
His clothes were merely discarded haphazardly to the side.
It was a posture of complete surrender, of laying down all burdens.
Ophelia's gaze traced the contours of his face in detail.
She could see the faint dark circles beneath his eyelids, marks left by long-term mental overexertion.
She could see his brow, which was usually slightly furrowed in thought, finally smoothing out completely.
His breathing was steady yet deeper than usual, each rise and fall of his chest seeming to expel the last bit of tension from his body.
This was the man who had saved Silver Scale Harbor.
An alchemist who, not long ago, had stood at the center of the calamity, facing a terrifying power capable of elemental annihilation.
A young noble who could still respond calmly to the probing and warnings of Nelisa, the chairman of the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce.
But now, he was just Klein.
A man so exhausted that even moving a finger felt like too much effort.
This intense contrast did not weaken his image in Ophelia's heart; instead, it made that figure feel more real, more... within reach.
A knight's duty was to protect.
She had once protected the empire's borders and innocent civilians.
But at this moment, the protective desire rising in her heart was directed only at this one person.
Ophelia shifted her feet.
She walked very slowly, her leather boots making no sound on the wooden floor.
She sat down on the edge of the bed.
The mattress sank slightly under her weight, a tiny movement that made Klein's eyelashes quiver.
He did not open his eyes.
But he knew it was her.
Only her scent could instantly soothe the lingering, chaotic thoughts in his mind.
Nelisa's words.
The Sage's mission.
The truth of the calamity.
These heavy questions were all gently pushed away into the distance by that familiar, crisp fragrance.
Klein felt his consciousness sinking, falling into a warm and dark deep sea.
He was about to fall asleep.
His body's instincts were urging him to enter a state of complete rest to repair his overextended vitality.
However, before his consciousness completely dissipated, he still had one thing to do.
Or rather, one sentence to say.
Using the last of his strength to fight the sweeping drowsiness, he forced his heavy eyelids open.
His vision was somewhat blurred.
The light from the fireplace outlined Ophelia's figure in a soft golden silhouette.
Her golden hair hung by her shoulders, flowing with a honey-like luster in the firelight.
Her golden eyes were as focused as ever, quietly reflecting his current defenseless state.
In that gaze, there was no scrutiny, no investigation.
Only a pure gaze.
Klein's lips moved, and a name squeezed out of his dry throat.
"Ophelia."
His voice was very soft, carrying a hint of pre-sleep raspiness.
"Mhm, I'm here."
Her response was swift and gentle, like a night breeze brushing over a lake, causing not a single ripple yet making the entire lake peaceful.
Her presence itself was a promise.
Klein looked at her, and his chaotic thoughts grew completely silent. He no longer needed to think about anything, nor did he need to be on guard against anyone.
He only needed to tell her.
"I'm going to rest," Klein said.
The sentence was as flat as stating a most ordinary fact.
"Mhm."
Ophelia responded again.
A single sound.
Simple and direct.
Yet it contained all her will—go to rest, I am here.
She watched Klein's eyes slowly close, and this time, they did not open again.
His breathing grew even longer as he fell into a deep sleep.
Ophelia sat quietly, not moving.
The only sound left in the room was the occasional crackle of the embers in the fireplace.
She looked down at the sleeping man's face.
In her mind, however, his words from a moment ago echoed repeatedly.
"I'm going to rest."
For some reason, she felt that although the man before her had spoken in a flat tone, without even any special look or movement, she felt as if the fellow was acting spoiled with her.
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