Flames bloomed across the sky like scattered petals—like morning light refracted beneath cloud cover, or the last glow of sunset.

In the final instant before they went out, in the final instant before the sword tip reached something vital, the firelight lit Muen’s profile—without a trace of fear—and lit the pupils that held an unshakable will.

He didn’t dodge. He didn’t counterattack. When the tip was only one centimeter from his heart, death was only one centimeter from him.

And yet Muen only looked at Ariel in silence, unmoving—like someone staring at mountains and dried-up springs even at the end of the world.

At last, with a clatter, the mountain cracked and the dead spring surged with new water. In the girl’s struggle, the Skyfire greatsword dropped to the floor.

Death didn’t come.

So, in the newborn morning glow, Muen swept the girl into his arms and let the flames dim all around them. He spoke softly.

"See? After all these times, you still can’t really bring yourself to cut me down... can you?"

Images flashed through Muen’s mind—Ariel raising her blade at him more than once, only to never follow through.

But this time was different from all the times before.

There was no arguing it: even a body tempered a thousand times over couldn’t withstand Skyfire, an ancient relic that even Zagu had once treated with caution.

Yet for Muen, this wasn’t a gamble.

It was an outcome he’d already expected.

Because from the deepest part of his heart, he trusted the girl named Ariel Bugaard. He understood that even if the Love God slipped in while she was vulnerable, she would never lose herself completely.

Ariel, the protagonist chosen by fate, wouldn’t surrender that easily.

If she was going to kill Muen Campbell, it would be by her own will—never because something else was puppeteering her.

"All right. It’s over."

Muen stroked Ariel’s back, like he was soothing a cat.

The girl in his arms trembled faintly. That small head—its expression shifting and wavering—bumped lightly against Muen’s solid chest as he held her tight.

Not the fake chest of Miss Muse.

The real chest of Muen Campbell.

"...I love you. I love you. I love you... Miss Muse, I love you..."

Ariel kept murmuring, but as Muen soothed her, the struggle on her face gradually weakened. The rigid tension in her body softened—as if she was finally suppressing the other powerful will inside her.

Seeing the situation come under control, Muen couldn’t help loosening his hold a little—

"No!"

Light and shadow flickered. A hazy figure finally seemed to break free of some restraint, drifting up from Ariel’s body.

Peles sounded frantic.

"Its target isn’t you—knock Ariel out, now!"

"!"

Muen’s pupils tightened. His mind was still processing what Peles meant, but his body didn’t hesitate. The hand that had been stroking Ariel tensed sharply. His fingers pressed together into a knife-hand and chopped toward Ariel’s neck.

But in the end, he was still too slow.

Or rather—

he was still slower than Ariel.

In the last instant before she passed out, Ariel’s hand swept across Muen’s, and in one smooth motion, she yanked the storage magitech ring off his finger.

Then she squeezed lightly.

Under that strange, ghostly glow, a space storage ring engraved with multiple reinforcement and defensive spells looked laughably fragile. With a crisp crack, it shattered completely.

Everything inside spilled across the floor.

Large-denomination bills. The Imperial Bank’s black card. Half-eaten food. Magitech gadgets that were useless in a situation like this.

His everyday clothes. The lace underwear Senior Anna had left with him. And the blanket Ariel had used last time.

And of course—

the mirror he’d just put inside.

The mirror still looked as old and plain as ever. Ordinary people could hardly imagine it was a real ancient relic at all.

But now, something grotesque began to leak from it.

Muen lowered his gaze and saw it: in the mirror’s deep darkness, countless lumps of flesh wriggled, gathering into an irregular sphere.

The sphere pulsed like a heart.

Then the blood-and-flesh split open, and a huge pupil emerged, staring at Muen with cold indifference from inside the mirror.

"Love... God!"

Muen’s face sank. With no hesitation, he drew the pure-white blade. A killing-light of condensed intent flashed—

and the mirror shattered.

But now every shard of glass perfectly reflected that nauseating flesh-lump all over again.

【Muen... Campbell...】

A chill voice echoed, carrying a force that seemed to corrode the mind. Muen’s consciousness swayed, suddenly hazy.

When he snapped back—

several wrist-thick tendrils of interwoven blood and flesh had already stretched out through the cracks between the shards.

Their target was—

the container he’d just stored away, the one holding the Demon God blood.

"Don’t even think about it!"

Muen’s eyes went bloodshot. His already-unrecovered mental power burned past its limit again, pushing the black flames out in a sweep.

At the same time, a powerful surge of soul-force erupted from the other side.

Peles’s figure had dimmed drastically, but she still poured out the last of her strength, trying to sever the Love God’s tendrils completely and stop it.

But—

the unconscious Ariel suddenly lifted a hand and blocked the tendrils.

So both the black flames and that vast soul-force shrank back at once, detouring around Ariel.

And in that single exchange—

those misshapen blood-and-flesh tendrils successfully snatched the container holding the Demon God blood and recoiled back into the mirror.

【Heh heh.........】

A bizarre laugh.

Hoarse. Ugly.

Like countless rusted pieces of steel bending and twisting together—then thrown into a blender.

It made your eardrums ache. It made your soul shiver.

【Muen Campbell...】

That flesh-lump eye stared into Muen’s eyes and hissed with a crooked laugh.

【I told you it wasn’t over. And this time... I won.】

"Motherf—!"

Muen’s rage exploded. He slammed a fist into the sea of mirror shards.

"Love God! You’re a goddamn evil god—what kind of shameless little trick is this? Come out and fight me! Come out and duel me! Come out, right now!"

But there was no answer.

After leaving behind the victor’s mockery, the Love God vanished from every shard. No matter how Muen searched, all he saw was deep darkness—

and his own furious reflection.

"Dammit!"

Rage churned in Muen’s chest. He’d always prided himself on being especially good at “treating” an evil god’s low blood pressure—

and now, for once, he got to taste what it felt like to be mocked right to his face.

The Demon God blood was stolen.

And more importantly—

Muen looked at Ariel on the floor.

She lay there quietly, without any of her usual wild vitality—like a princess sunk into sleep.

But Ariel had never been a princess.

She was supposed to be the warrior who cut through thorns and charged forward. She shouldn’t be lying here. She shouldn’t be the Love God’s puppet. The moment the Love God appeared, she should’ve driven her greatsword straight into that disgusting lump of flesh.

But she hadn’t.

A tangle of emotions spread through Muen’s chest. He didn’t know if it was anger, or guilt...

or both.

...

Muen met the eyes of the hazy soul beside him—Ariel’s teacher, Peles. Peles looked full of apology.

"I’m truly sorry. I didn’t notice the shift in Ariel’s state of mind. I never imagined someone as strong as her would be twisted by her own love. By the time I realized... the seed had already sprouted."

"No. It’s not your fault," Muen said softly.

The Love God’s “aura” had been getting worn down through this whole chain of events, to the point where it was easy to start underestimating it. But just like Teacher Mela had said—

even the shame of evil gods was still a real evil god.

The Love God’s authority meant that once its seed sprouted, it could ignore the target’s power level and invade the heart.

That was how it had been for Eluca. That was how it had been for the saintess from long, long ago.

And that seed was hidden so well that until the inner distortion finally burst, no one could detect it.

Not even the person closest to Ariel.

No—

maybe it was precisely because she was so close, because she understood Ariel so well, that she never imagined Ariel would fall here.

No one imagined it.

"...Had you ever encountered the Love God before?" Muen asked.

"Yes. Earlier, when we dealt with a few demonfolk succubi, one of them was polluted by the Love God. I remember it said some strange things to Ariel back then..."

Peles fell into thought, then suddenly reacted.

"Those words... that’s what they meant?"

"So the Love God had already set its sights on Ariel?" Muen’s fist clenched hard.

Knowing it had been planned should’ve made him feel a little better.

It didn’t.

Because deep down, he knew—

if it weren’t for him...

if it weren’t for Miss Muse...

then the Love God wouldn’t have been able to crack Ariel’s defenses at all.

He was the biggest reason.

"Oh my."

A breeze drifted through. The old loli head arrived fashionably late.

But she only swept her gaze across the scene once, and she already understood most of what had happened.

"Looks like I still came a step too late."

"Teacher Mela..."

Muen took a slow breath. He didn’t say anything else. He only lowered his head.

"I’m sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Mela asked calmly.

"I lost the Demon God blood."

"Oh. I see. Then yes, that does deserve an apology—but an apology alone won’t undo what happened."

"..."

Muen lowered his head even further.

After all that effort—after surviving so many life-and-death crises—this last result got snatched away by the Love God.

It meant everything had gone down the drain.

And more importantly, once the Love God got something like Demon God blood, who knew how serious the consequences would be—

"Don’t worry."

Reading Muen’s thoughts, Mela’s voice stayed perfectly calm.

"None of what you’re imagining will happen."

"Huh?"

"Huh what? Did you forget? The Demon God blood you have now is blood with its vitality killed off. Just like those Demon God body parts it stole before—this kind of dead Demon God remnant can’t help it for the time being," Mela said blandly.

"Of course, if it had gotten living Demon God blood before you killed off the vitality... then that really would’ve been trouble."

"So that means..." Muen’s eyes widened.

"That means your effort wasn’t wasted," Mela said, looking him in the eye. "And you don’t need to blame yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. This isn’t your fault."

"..."

Muen let out a hollow smile. He finally loosened half the knot in his chest, and some of that pent-up bitterness dissolved.

But his smile was still ugly.

"Wait—what do you mean, those Demon God remnants it stole before? Does that mean even before the Demon God blood, there was already—" Muen caught himself mid-thought.

"Aiya, aiya... I’m old. My ears don’t work so well anymore..."

Mela spun a lazy circle through the air, neatly shaking off his question. Then she turned toward the sleeping Ariel, her tone turning slightly heavy.

"All right. Now we talk about what actually matters. Compared to Demon God blood, this seems like the bigger problem..."

If Ariel were just an ordinary junior, Mela wouldn’t have cared this much. But now that she knew what this girl really was, there was no way she could sit and watch.

A product of the world’s self-defense mechanism—if something like that fell this easily, it would be a disaster. It might even pull the apocalypse forward.

"But it’s strange..."

Mela fell into thought.

"With what this little brat is, and the mindset she’s forged, how did the Love God invade her? She has twisted love too? But I thought this kid likes women. These days, even lesbians are getting twisted?"

"..."

"Hm?"

Seeing Muen’s awkward silence, Mela lifted a brow.

And right then, the sleeping Ariel began murmuring again—

"Miss Muse... sob... my Miss Muse..."

"Miss Muse?"

Mela blinked and looked at Muen.

"I remember that being—"

"Yeah..." Muen forced an awkward smile. "That was my cross-dressing persona."

"..."

Mela froze. Then her head shot forward and smacked Muen in the forehead.

"You little brat—so it really was you! I’m taking back what I said earlier. If you don’t fix this, I’m breaking your legs! You disgusting scumbag... no, wait—disgusting scumbag girl!"

"I’m very sorry!"

Muen didn’t dodge. He took the hit.

Even if his legs really got [N O V E L I G H T] broken right now, he wouldn’t have a single complaint.

"I know it’s my fault," Muen said, bowing deeply and speaking with absolute sincerity. "Teacher, please help me. Save Ariel. As long as you can save her, I’ll do anything."

He wanted to save Ariel—

even if Mela hung her head above a flower field and used it as a daylight lamp forever.

"Oh?"

Mela raised her brow with a meaningful look.

From the way this looked, the source of this twisted love didn’t seem entirely one-sided.

After all, yes, her foolish disciple had worn women’s clothes—

but this foolish girl hadn’t dressed as a man.

"Sigh... Since it’s my dear disciple begging, how could I pretend I didn’t see it?"

Mela slowly floated back up.

"Of course, under normal circumstances, someone thoroughly polluted by an evil god can’t be saved. An evil god is an evil god—something that can corrode even the world itself. A mere human is far too fragile in front of that."

"Then does that mean..." Muen’s heart tightened.

"I said under normal circumstances."

Mela cast him a half-smile.

"Thanks to someone’s help, the current situation... is not nearly as normal as most evil-god pollution cases in this world."

"You mean—"

"That soul over there."

Mela suddenly said, looking at the hazy figure.

"What’s your name?"

"...Peles. My name is Peles."

The drifting soul wavered faintly. Peles looked severely depleted, barely able to maintain a shape.

"I’m Ariel’s teacher."

"Peles? That name sounds familiar..."

Mela rubbed her chin, but quickly gave up trying to remember. Over a thousand years, she’d seen plenty of people in the gaps between sleeps. She couldn’t possibly remember them all.

"Peles, at the last moment, you protected this girl’s soul with soul power, didn’t you?"

Mela looked at Peles.

"That’s why you’re so drained."

"Yes."

Peles nodded.

"When I realized the Love God’s seed had sprouted in Ariel, it was already too late. I couldn’t stop the Love God from controlling her mind, so I had to protect her soul as quickly as possible."

"A smart choice."

Mela nodded.

"That’s why this special situation exists. Normally, an evil god’s pollution targets the soul first, and that process is very fast. Once the mental defenses break, the pollution floods in—and once the soul is polluted, forget me. Even a true god couldn’t save them.

"But this little one has a good teacher—one who’s been attached to her as a soul body every step of the way—so you were able to shield her soul at the critical moment. Once it sprouts, the Love God’s seed can ignore power level when it comes to controlling the mind, but the erosion of the soul can still be blocked by a sufficiently strong force."

"That sounds way more reliable than Teacher Mela," Muen said, rubbing his chin.

"Hm?"

"Teacher Mela is invincible, and whether it’s cuteness or power, you’re basically the person I admire the most—"

"All right, all right. Enough flattery. I don’t like hearing it."

Mela hummed happily anyway and continued.

"But even so, that doesn’t mean it’s safe. Because right now, the mind is the real problem."

"The... mind?"

Muen remembered the blade tip that had stopped one centimeter from his heart.

"Is Ariel’s own will not enough?"

"No."

Mela answered without hesitation.

"I know you think this kid’s will is strong, but was the saintess from long, long ago weak-willed? Were all those lunatics who became the Love God’s believers weak-willed? A strong will can delay an evil god’s pollution, but it isn’t enough—especially not against the Love God.

"Its authority is twisted love. It’s the weakness of human nature. If someone’s will had no flaw, it would never find a gap. But once it invades, the ending is always miserable.

"Including for this kid. Because if the mind is completely controlled, then even her offering up her own soul to the Love God isn’t hard to imagine."

"Then what do we do?" Muen asked.

"It’s simple. If you can’t deal with the Love God’s seed directly, then deal with the soil that seed grows in."

"Deal with... the soil."

"In other words—make her love stop being twisted."

Mela stared at Muen meaningfully until his scalp went numb.

"The simplest way is to make this kid’s dream come true—have the Miss Muse she can’t stop thinking about really fall into her arms."

"You mean..."

"Perfect timing. Magic that turns a man into a woman... I do happen to know a thing or two..."

"Wait—no! Absolutely not!"

Muen slapped a hand over his precious little brother.

"Not even if I die!"

"Think magic isn’t reliable? Surgery isn’t off the table either, I’m not—"

"That’s not what I meant!"

Muen nearly in tears as he begged,

"Isn’t there any other—more normal—method?"

"A normal method? Of course there is."

Mela suddenly put away the jokes and said seriously,

"And you probably already know what it is. Because the true root of this girl’s twisted love... might not actually be Miss Muse at all."

"..."

Muen looked toward Peles.

That powerful ancient soul—perhaps for the first time since becoming Ariel’s teacher—looked utterly helpless.

Not because she was weak. Anyone who could resist evil-god pollution head-on could never be called weak, in any era.

It was just that in the story of saving Ariel this time... she couldn’t interfere.

After a moment of silence, Peles nodded to Muen.

"Ariel trusts you... so I trust you too."

"..."

Muen’s mouth twitched.

Ariel trusted him?

Was that the newest hell joke?

But Muen still went to Ariel’s side. He crouched and stared at her.

Her face was still the same kind you could keep looking at—but unlike normal, there was a fragile softness between her brows and eyes.

This wasn’t the first time Muen had seen a fragile Ariel.

In fact, in that short yet endless time underground, relying on each other, he’d seen many different versions of Ariel.

A brave Ariel. A fragile Ariel.

A strong Ariel. A vulnerable Ariel.

Ariel with an inner strength that could shake the world, and...

Ariel who refused to face her own heart, lying to herself.

Scene after scene flashed by—each one Ariel. In Muen’s memory, she was no longer that symbolic “overpowered heroine,” no longer the protagonist who existed only in the original novel.

She was a living, breathing ordinary girl, with her own joy and anger and sorrow.

But in the end, the image stopped on Ariel standing with her arms crossed, staring at someone with a face full of disdain.

"Stay away from me, you womanizing young noble from a duke’s family!"

The Ariel who hated Muen Campbell most of all.

Yeah.

You hate me that much.

So how could I—

"Muen..."

Muen’s eyes widened.

He bent down sharply, trying to catch the sound—yet what spilled from Ariel’s lips was still an endless stream of Miss Muse...

A hallucination?

No.

Not a hallucination.

Whether it was instinct or something else, Muen was certain.

He’d heard it.

He heard Ariel call his name.

Mixed in among all those Miss Muses was a single Muen Campbell.

Just once.

But that once...

was enough to give someone courage.

"Seriously... worst case, I’ll just let you cut me a few more times."

Muen spoke under his breath.

"Decided?" Mela asked.

"Yeah. I’ve decided."

Muen stood, but his gaze never left the sleeping girl.

With absolute seriousness, he declared,

"I’m going to... correct her love."