Late Night Visitors
“……!”
Hearing the name Michael, Irene shot up from her bed. She quickly grabbed her outer robe hanging on the wall and opened the door without delay.
It was already late at night, so the hallway had only the occasional lamp lit.
In the faint glow, Irene’s eyes widened as she confirmed it was truly Michael standing outside.
“Sir Michael? What could bring you here so late…?”
“I came to speak with you despite the late hour, and I apologize for the rudeness. Might I have a moment of your time?”
The moment he confirmed his identity, the drowsiness that had been pressing down on her moments earlier vanished completely.
He had never visited like this before.
Even in the middle of the night, he had always been staying at the Holy Temple in the Fortress, hadn’t he?
Irene stretched her neck to scan the hallway.
Fortunately, no other passersby were in sight.
‘Anyone seeing this would call it strange and gossip.’
In her previous life, if Irene so much as crossed paths with Michael, whispers would inevitably follow.
She had apparently waited deliberately at the intersection of his usual route, claiming he didn’t come to her because she was looking for him instead.
Among the sharpest comments was that she had tried to seduce him with low-class charm, which was why he couldn’t escape her.
“I heard it too. Every night she’s acting like a brothel madam and calling for Sir Michael.”
She would have snapped back at the time, saying the rumors were nonsense, but she had simply lowered her head.
‘When they see this sight, they’ll probably spread more nonsense.’
She didn’t want that at all.
At that moment, a shadow flickered at the end of the corridor. Someone was approaching from the other side.
“Come in!”
Startled, Irene hurriedly pulled Michael inside and shut the door.
Pressing her ear to the wood, she heard footsteps pass by the door, then fade into the distance.
It must have been another Pair staying nearby.
“Phew…”
Irene let out a sigh of relief and turned around. Their eyes met the moment she faced Michael, who was staring at her with an expression of silent question.
“Ah, I was… just worried someone might see.”
Michael looked genuinely puzzled by her words.
“Are you concerned that being with a Pair is a problem? If there is a curfew here, please tell me.”
That wasn’t possible. Moreover, this wasn’t even a temple; curfews were unheard of.
“It’s not that. But at this hour, if someone saw Sir Michael come to my room, it could tarnish his reputation.”
In the past, those vulgar words weren’t aimed only at Irene.
Other knights who envied or resented Michael had also muttered insults behind his back.
“Even though he’s a holy knight, there are limits to purification. Yet he walks around perfectly fine… Well, we don’t know what he’s been doing every night behind closed doors.”
“They say his purification power is ridiculously low. That means he must have been really rough with her for a long time.”
“He did everything he wanted to, but outside he still acts the part of a dignified holy knight.”
All those filthy words thrown at her without touching even a finger.
Despite drawing that line and keeping her distance, the rumors still spread. And now someone had seen Michael come to her room at this hour?
Just thinking about it gave her a headache.
Within half a day, the entire Fortress would be buzzing with gossip.
“If that’s enough to tarnish his honor, then his reputation was never that important to begin with. You have no need to worry.”
At her firm reply, Irene let out a wry smile.
Seeing the same unyielding strength in him that she had always known brought a small measure of relief.
“More importantly, what brings you here?”
Even as she asked, her heart wasn’t at ease.
They were in her quarters, and technically his as well. After all, this room was meant for Pairs.
In fact, thanks to his achievements, it had even been provided by another kingdom—his own private residence.
The rightful owner had come, yet she found herself wondering why she was questioning him. She turned her gaze away subtly.
“Th-that…”
Michael hesitated in a way he never had before.
‘What on earth could this be about?’
A heavy worry settled in her chest.
When the sun set, he would disappear into the temple’s prayer hall and avoid any contact with the opposite sex.
Thanks to that, low-class rumors could usually be dismissed with a laugh, saying Michael must have been up to something.
Yet here he was, entering her room at this hour.
‘Is there something serious?’
Irene looked at him again, noting something different from before.
He was no longer wearing the holy knight’s robe. Instead, he had on the ordinary clothes worn by other knights.
Michael had always been impeccably dressed in the temple’s formal attire.
Even when entering dungeons, he wore his robe beneath his armor.
That was why she had once understood why he was called the “Sword of the Gods”—the sight of blood-soaked robes.
Even in the prayer hall, sleeping there in his priestly robes, he remained the same.
But now, in front of her, he wore the same ordinary clothes as the other knights.
Perhaps because he was wearing ordinary attire.
Normally he had seemed so distant and uncomfortable to approach, but right now he simply looked like an ordinary knight.
“Is something wrong with my clothes?”
“Eh?”
Taken aback by the sudden question, Irene stared at him.
“I noticed you were staring at my clothes. The replacement robe I requested from the temple hasn’t arrived yet, so I borrowed one from the Fortress.”
“Oh… I see.”
It was nothing special, yet she felt embarrassed for having made him feel awkward.
A brief silence filled the room.
Eventually, Michael spoke first.
“I came to speak with you, but… the truth is, I’ve come because I need your help.”
“My help? A request?”
A request? What in this Fortress could she possibly do?
“Yes. It’s something only you can do.”
The more she listened, the more puzzled she grew.
Seeing Irene’s increasingly bewildered expression, Michael drew in a short breath and spoke with visible effort.
“I would like you to purify me.”
For a moment, Irene froze, unable to understand.
‘Purify me?’
She had never heard those words in her past life.
He had always rejected her touch, as if it would kill him instantly.
Yet now he had come to her on his own, asking for purification.
Irene recalled the last time she had purified him.
He had suffered a serious wound, and the demonic energy inside him had reached its limit.
She had willingly removed her clothes and pulled him into her arms. His mind gone, Michael had moved on pure instinct.
His large, rough hands had gripped her breasts; his firm thighs had spread her knees apart and driven deep inside, opening her to the very core.
The will to survive had turned him into a beast.
The weapon-like organ had sliced into her body and thrust in with brutal force.
Unable to cry out, Irene had gasped for breath, torn between pain and the urge to live.
But the pain had been brief.
Once her breath returned and the raging demonic energy subsided, pleasure mixed with purification had begun.
She had moved with him beneath her, above her, sometimes in places other than the bed, never giving him rest.
Holding him tight like a beast rutting beneath her, she had pressed her belly against his and intertwined their fingers.
Their tongues had mingled with each other’s saliva in a lewd dance, exchanging every drop of essence.
That had been the last purification she remembered.
“Uh…”
Without realizing, Irene stepped back from Michael.
The act she had performed to save his life—yet which had ultimately filled his desire—had ruined everything.
She could never do it again.
“I-I’m sorry. I…”
But in both her previous and current lives, she had been his purifier.
When she hesitated, Michael took a step closer.
When she retreated again, he advanced.
Repeated like that, her back met the wall.
There was nowhere left to go.
Irene stood with her back against it and turned her head.
The bed she had been lying on moments ago came into view.
A bed prepared for Pairs, spacious enough for two to roll around in.
Michael’s shadow loomed over Irene as he drew near.
In that moment, eyes tightly closed, she braced for whatever came.
But Michael spoke.
“Could you… take my hand?”