‘Little lord.’

The two hands tightly gripping my finger were far too small.

At times like this, I felt even more acutely that Dante, though different in appearance, was just like any ordinary child.

A small yet strong force pulled Raymond down. Yielding to that gentle pull, Raymond lay down on the bed.

The fatigue he hadn’t felt while standing surged like a tidal wave. As his tension eased, his eyes stung.

It was the first time he had lain in bed since Yerpi disappeared. The empty space had already been warmed by the young dragon, making it cozy.

Awkwardly settling into place, Dante immediately nestled into his arms as if he had been waiting. The immature dragon blood radiated a temperature slightly higher than his own.

Holding the child close, Yerpi’s face naturally surfaced in his mind.

It wasn’t simply that he was thinking of her now. She seemed to be with him everywhere he went.

Like the phantom of Yerpi appearing beside the empty spot on the bed beyond Dante.

“…Yerpi?”

Muttering in disbelief, Yerpi smiled.

But it lasted only a fleeting moment. When he closed and reopened his eyes, her figure had completely vanished.

All that remained were rumpled sheets and a heavy weight of guilt.

As time passed, the void left by Yerpi grew increasingly vast, as though a hole had been torn open, impossible to mend.

At some point, he began to wonder—had Yerpi left his side of her own will?

Sudden anxiety surged. He couldn’t confidently declare that she hadn’t.

He was so disgusted with himself for even entertaining such thoughts that he dry-washed his face.

‘Unbelievable.’

He recalled Yerpi gazing into the distance even when she was by his side.

What had she always kept hidden? As her husband, he realized he knew nothing about Yerpi at all.

Self-reproach came in waves. Yet his resolve grew equally clear.

‘I must find her.’

He had promised to protect her. Therefore, hearing the truth from Yerpi’s lips—listening to her story—could wait until later.

Even if, upon meeting again, Yerpi’s words were meant to push him away.

Raymond closed his eyes as Dante mumbled Yerpi’s name in his sleep.

An unbearable depth of exhaustion overwhelmed him.

There were moments when he couldn’t tell how much time had passed, or whether he had even fallen asleep.

Now was one such moment—when a voice, like a hallucination, reached his ears.

‘Raymond.’

It was Yerpi’s voice. Though he recognized she was calling him, he couldn’t open his eyes.

No—his entire body wouldn’t move.

Unable to stretch out his hand as he willed, he realized he was dreaming.

Yerpi’s voice echoed again, murmuring a name—not his, but someone else’s.

‘Ianah.’

‘My beloved. My dragon. Oblivus.’

The names she called differed, but the longing behind them was the same.

In the unconscious realm, the call repeated.

At times, he recalled scenes he couldn’t tell were imagination or dream—a memory of black-haired Yerpi clinging to him.

Amidst the jumbled fragments, Yerpi’s voice rang out once more.

‘Find me.’

The voice resonating by his ear, the faint warmth and touch of lips, felt vivid.

The moment he felt hands cradling his face, Raymond opened his eyes.

The dark bedroom came into view, and Dante sleeping in his arms. He had returned to reality.

‘What was that just now?’

He hadn’t even begun retracing the dream’s memory when a chill ran down his spine as his hand brushed his chest.

Upon waking, all traces should have vanished.

Yet, as a hand rose, bright golden hair shimmered even in the darkness, brushing against his skin.

“…Yerpi?”

For a moment, he nearly mistook her for Yerpi.

But the texture of the hair, the scent resembling honey yet false—everything was different from Yerpi.

The instant he realized this, he met a pair of violet eyes.

Charlotte, lying atop him with her hands planted on his chest, looked down and smiled.

How should one interpret a woman who had come to her brother-in-law’s bedroom in the dead of night—not once, but twice?

More strikingly, Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with unusual liveliness, as if it were broad daylight.

‘I missed you.’

Faced with such an absurd statement, he couldn’t help but ask.

In an instant, he shoved Charlotte’s shoulders, pinned her beneath him, and gripped her throat.

A deep shadow loomed over Charlotte.

Even with a massive man strangling her, Charlotte seemed utterly unafraid, still smiling.

Worse, when he pushed away her hand reaching toward him, a chill ran through him.

‘Who are you?’

‘Charlotte.’

She gave a playful smile, as if grateful he had asked. But Raymond knew the true identity hidden behind this unfamiliar face.

‘I’m asking what your purpose is in approaching me. Saintess murderer.’

‘…You knew?’

Charlotte asked, eyes widening.

Her innocent expression resembled Yerpi. But this, too, was something the real Charlotte had never possessed.

He was utterly sick of seeing imitations—faces mimicking the real Yerpi.

‘Since you arrived, the seal on the ice wall has developed problems.’

The ice wall surrounding Growen, designed to bring eternal harsh winter, had long served to separate the outside world from the land of dragons.

This was thanks to an ancient seal beneath the ice wall, and the magic upon the wall could only be controlled by dragon blood.

For the first time, that ice wall had developed an issue.

A dispatched unit, sent to confirm the presence of an outsider fallen in the middle of the desert, failed to cross the ice wall.

The winter magic upon the ice refused to lift—even under the command of dragon blood.

Not only did the ice not melt, but the snowstorm grew sharper, and the sub-zero cold became so severe it could freeze even spirits dwelling within winter’s domain.

As a result, multiple units had to be recalled, making it impossible to obtain news from beyond the ice wall.

It was bizarre. The ice wall defying the command of dragon blood?

The wall had always obeyed like sentient magic, following the dragon’s will—making this utterly impossible.

‘Yes. You shouldn’t have been able to leave. How surprising.’

Charlotte readily agreed with his words. Raymond’s eyes narrowed.

Her obedient attitude, as if ready to answer anything asked, was infuriating.

Meanwhile, every unit that returned, unable to penetrate the blizzard, testified the same:

Beyond the raging storm, an aurora of a color never seen before hung in the sky.

It was sacred power blanketing Growen’s lofty heavens.

The sacred power surrounding the ice wall was causing magical interference.

Yet the sacred power covered only the surface, not reaching underground.

The underground caves beneath the ice wall had long been sealed and unused.

Reopening them took time, but eventually created a link to the outside.

Using that passage, a faction that contacted the temple uncovered a shocking truth.

‘Charlotte Deilang is not the Saintess.’

She was a criminal who, as a Saintess candidate, had murdered the former Saintess and other candidates, then stolen both the sacred power and the sacred gem before fleeing.

They only learned this truth after Yerpi’s disappearance.

Raymond secretly ordered the faction that revealed the truth to keep Charlotte under surveillance.

A unit of Holy Knights, sent to transport the criminal, was advancing toward the ice wall.

Yet now, Charlotte had bypassed all surveillance and invaded Raymond’s bedroom.

She had known about the surveillance.

And her ability to ignore it meant she could move freely, evading the knights’ eyes at will.

Even now, knowing the truth about Charlotte, one thing remained incomprehensible:

Why had she come to this land at all?

‘What reason drove you to come to Growen at such a cost?’

According to the archbishop, Charlotte had already been internally designated as the next Saintess, and both the former Saintess and other candidates had already known the church’s decision.

The church itself didn’t understand why Charlotte had betrayed God’s will and committed such a cruel act.

Yet even under threat from Raymond, Charlotte only spoke words devoid of meaning.

‘I was in a hurry.’

‘What do you—!’

‘Perhaps.’

Charlotte interrupted just as Raymond was about to shout. For the first time, anxiety flickered in her expression.

‘…You dislike that I killed people? But I had no time. That woman was pretending to be me and seducing you.’

‘…Pretending to be you?’

It was an incomprehensible statement.

Hadn’t Charlotte been the one impersonating Yerpi all along?