One of the roundtable heroes of the guild, Elena, knelt before me.

It had been a long time since our last encounter, and now…

“...Please… don’t abandon me… I’ll do anything… please, please… *sob*…”

---

A difficult situation had arrived.

Keyal felt utterly perplexed.

He instinctively pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a wave of nausea and a headache, as if he were overwhelmed with confusion.

Why was she in such a broken state?

He was helpless, caught up in the distressing circumstances.

Embracing him, Elena exuded a gentle floral scent.

She began to tremble, her body quivering as she smiled.

Crying and laughing in turn, wiping away tears only to reveal a shy smile.

Thrashing her limbs in joy, she seemed to lose all sense of direction, flailing wildly as if unable to contain herself.

She was struggling, as if trapped in something she couldn’t resist, yet didn’t entirely reject.

Keyal Klein’s memories reminded him of Elena’s former dignity.

Once a hero who lived as family, she now demeaned herself, presenting herself as nothing more than a tool, a slave.

She hadn’t just said it—she clung to him, pleading, sobbing, unable to let go.

“I’ll do anything if you don’t abandon me…”

She pleaded, saying he could use her as an object for any purpose, even for a fleeting moment of convenience,

as long as she could remain by his side.

Kneeling before him in the guild hall, she grabbed his arm, her face turning desperate under the disapproving glare of the innkeeper.

“If looks could kill…” he muttered to himself, as he slowly shuffled past the innkeeper’s deadly gaze.

---

He secured a room at a nearby inn and led her inside.

Elena, still on the verge of tears, began to recount her struggles since his disappearance, her words softened but laden with bitterness.

He carefully locked the door, gently patting her trembling back until she calmed down.

Once he managed to get her seated on the edge of the small, worn-out bed, she began to absentmindedly stroke the tattered sheet beneath her.

“What…what are you doing?” Keyal asked, unable to contain his exasperation.

“Oh…um…just…it feels nice to be beside you again, Master…”

Her gaze was misty, as if looking at something precious she hadn’t seen in a long time, her touch laced with gratitude.

“The sheets… they look so beautiful to me…”

She was calling the ragged, filthy sheets beautiful.

It was like watching a schoolgirl petting a cute, fluffy puppy she’d found on the street.

The mature image of the elven hero looked strangely out of place in this bizarre display of affection.

“Is that so…? If it looks that way to you, Elena, I suppose that’s good…”

She had once been a celebrated hero of the guild Edric. He hated to let her stay in a place like this; he wished he could tear his own clothes and lay them down as a more worthy bed for her.

But he knew she would refuse if he suggested it.

With a soft sigh, Keyal condensed a small bit of dark energy into his hand, instinctively directing it toward her body.

“Shamark.”

He muttered a brief incantation, using Shamark, a basic demonic magic, designed to relieve physical or mental pain or aid in self-healing.

The dark energy began to explore her body, searching every corner.

Despite her casual demeanor, Keyal couldn’t help but worry deeply.

“Let’s do a thorough check…”

The magic dissipated, spreading through her body.

The results appeared, and Keyal…

“…”

He couldn’t help but frown.

Keyal hurriedly took stock of her condition.

Two black spheres, several dark red ones, and no blue ones.

The darker the color, the more damaged the area.

And the black ones…what did they mean?

The answer was simple.

Elena’s body was on the verge of complete collapse, barely functioning.

Outwardly, she didn’t appear to have any issues. But even that must have been a facade, some ruse to hide her suffering and put his mind at ease.

She had likely used the power of the four great spirits to regulate her body temperature,

drawing upon nature’s energy to mask her illness and maintain an appearance of vitality, even though she was severely weakened.

Realizing the extent of her physical damage, Keyal understood how deeply she was suffering.

Unlike the past, where a simple touch could heal the mind and body,

the withered being before him bore wounds that could not be erased.

Scars left by the ignorance of none other than her master, Keyal Klein…

Keyal approached Elena slowly, hesitating.

“Um… Master…?”

Elena remained frozen, her hands clasped together, looking up at him with nervous, downcast eyes.

With every glance, a pang of guilt shot through Keyal’s chest.

This world wasn’t some abstract fantasy. It was a real, tangible reality.

And in the broken image of his once-vibrant companion,

the sight of her dull, tangled mint-green hair and her worn, distorted features,

he felt an urge to comfort her as he gently brushed her disheveled hair back.

He offered his gratitude for Elena’s resilience and faith as the Elf Queen.

He also offered his apology, embarrassed and regretful.

If he had known she would suffer like this, he would have at least left her a letter.

“I’m…sorry, Elena. You’ve suffered so much because of your foolish master.”

---

Night had fallen.

Now dressed in her nightgown, Elena moved gracefully with her elven steps, approaching his bed to observe his sleeping face.

Master had fallen asleep first,

his face pale, as if haunted by guilt,

his brows furrowed as he murmured Elena’s name and those of other roundtable heroes.

Wracked by cold and nightmares, he trembled, muttering apologies to Elena.

Holding his trembling hand, she felt the warmth of Keyal, who sought her even in his dreams.

“Ah…Master…so warm…so very warm…”

She smiled, her lips curling into a crescent moon as she savored the small happiness.

But she was puzzled by his words, by the way he whispered apologies.

Why was he apologizing?

“We’re the ones who failed to meet your expectations…”

Elena didn’t understand.

She was his tool, meant to serve him.

If she had desired anything beyond that and offended him, it was only natural that he would abandon her.

Of course, she didn’t want to be discarded.

It was natural. Nothing on earth can thrive without the nurturing warmth of the sun.

To her, he was her sun, her guiding light.

The loss she felt when he disappeared, the way her value plummeted, had left her with pain that words couldn’t convey.

Failing to fulfill her duties and desiring more than he would give her, she felt like a sinner.

It was the natural order for the sun to withdraw its light if one was careless enough to try to extinguish its flame.

And so, she was only grateful that he forgave her for her sins, that he embraced her sadness and extended his hand once more.

---

Stepping outside the inn, she took a weak step forward.

The familiar sights of the medieval village filled her view.

Gazing upon the poor, disheveled village, Elena scowled. To a hero of the Edric guild like her, such a shabby beginner village was thoroughly unappealing.

Keyal let out a bitter chuckle, aware of the unfortunate circumstances.

And he began to think deeply about their situation.

Like Elena, the other heroes might be bearing similar pain.

His eyes narrowed as he glared at the dilapidated, rundown village.

The thought of his guild’s heroes enduring endless suffering under these conditions filled him with an uncontrollable fury.

“I’d like to visit the Adventurer’s Guild briefly, if that’s alright?”

He held Elena’s hand firmly.

He would never let go of her hand again, giving her the reassurance that he would never neglect or abandon the fallen elf.

“Yes, Master. Wherever you wish to go, I’ll follow.”