They had barely exited the village when Melissa shouted, “Stop!”

  Lucien pulled the reins on Obsidian and stopped his horse. Twisting at the waist, he looked back at Melissa, who sat behind him and was nearly slipping off to one side. He immediately grabbed her hand.

  “Do you want to die?” he shouted as he pulled her up.

  Melissa adjusted herself, and the situation, upon closer look, was not serious at all. She should have shouted much earlier. Because she had maintained distance from him, he did not sense her slipping and had not realized she was falling.

  “I can’t hold myself in, I keep on falling. What should I grab? There is no handle or support,” she shouted, her voice trembling as she looked at him. She was angry, and she could guess that he did not like being touched, which only made her angrier since it meant she could not grab onto him for support. Though he had not said anything this time, the previous incident, when he spoke sharply to her for grabbing his sleeve, must have made her refrain from holding him now.

  It was not that he hated being touched; it was more about his aversion to getting dirty, and the fact that she had nearly torn his sleeves before had certainly justified his anger at her then.

  “You can grab me,” Lucien said coolly, as if it was perfectly acceptable for her to do so.

  “Can I? You seem to not like others touching you,” Melissa asked, her black eyes gazing at him.

  “You are wearing new clothes and your hands are probably clean, right? Then you can grab me,” Lucien answered. He hated getting dirty, but it was perfectly natural for others to touch him; if it was not, he would not have anyone by his side, since he would have cut off their hands by now. Still, most people avoided him not out of fear of touching him, but because he was a difficult man to talk to.

  “What do you mean? Do you think I will rub dirt onto you? I bathe every day, and these are special occasion clothes that I just changed into. I am wearing these new clothes for the first time—well, actually, the second time,” she said, her voice rising as she spoke. “But they are clean and untouched by dirt.”

  “Sure, grab onto me, and tell me if you feel like you are falling off,” Lucien replied.

  “Where should I?” Melissa looked puzzled.

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  “Grab onto my waist,” Lucien answered.

  ***

  Melissa found herself wrapping her arms around Lucien’s waist. This was the first time she had ever been so close to someone of the opposite gender.

  She could not understand how Lucien was only wearing a thin white shirt, his sleeves still rolled up to his elbows. The cold wind swept in from the front, and the night was growing colder, yet he seemed unfazed.

  Meanwhile, she was shivering from the cold even though she wore a coat and thick trousers. Yet her arms, tightly wrapped around Lucien’s body, felt warm; he seemed to be radiating heat.

  Maybe his body was simply too powerful to feel the cold. But only those of transcendent rank were unaffected by such things; they could walk shirtless down a snowy hill. As far as she knew from the stories she had heard, Lucien was only around nineteen and had not even reached the Heaven rank, so how could he possibly be transcendent?

  So many questions spun in her head. She looked around the path; on both sides, huge trees and thick forest surrounded them. Fear clutched her heart as she imagined what would happen if some beast were to leap at them from the woods.

  She was only of apprentice rank, and from the aura Lucien radiated, he could probably kill any beast in a single blow. She felt reassured for her safety, but the unease in her mind did not go away.

  Lucien still carried that deathly aura around him, the kind that made her instinctively want to stay away from him. His heart seemed to lack emotion, sealed behind darkness. For some reason, she wanted to reach toward that heart and ask why he kept it locked away in darkness.

  But she did not have the courage to ask that openly to Lucien, who could kill her with a single swing. What if her question angered him and he lashed out at her? She did not like being scolded; no one had ever scolded her. The villagers and her parents loved her and cared deeply for her.

  She began to feel sleepy, and her body stopped shaking as warmth spread through her. She sensed Lucien had done something; his aura wrapped around her, creating a thick cushion of protection against the cold.

  She caught the scent of something pleasant lingering in the air. Her eyelids began to droop.

  So strong, he smells so nice. What does he use to smell so good?

  ***

  Lucien soon found his back being used as a pillow by the future saintess; she had fallen asleep, her head resting comfortably against him.

  She had been shivering just moments before, so he used his space affinity to form a barrier around her, shielding her from the cold winds. She had fallen asleep almost immediately.

  Lucien sighed internally, hoping she would not drool in her sleep; he would hate to find his back wet.

  There was still a long journey ahead, and he needed to hurry to reach Norwind City. He did not know what kind of effect his actions might have on the story, and he feared that some butterfly effect might hasten the death of his mother. He wanted to hurry.

  Lucien gave the reins a gentle tug, “Fast.” Obsidian immediately picked up the pace, running faster than before.