Chapter 138
This wouldnât do.
He needed somethingâanythingâthat would bring release to this building pressure.
But, uncertain what that could be, he squeezed his eyes shut, panting, and Ireneâs image, which had lingered in his mind all day, rose again.
The one who had run to him, the one declared his wife by the absurd continental law.
At that thoughtâ
âUgh!â
âhis hand, which had been moving quickly, gripped the s***t tightly. His body convulsed and shuddered in response.
His vision went white.
For a brief moment, he felt as if his consciousness had drifted somewhere far away.
After a while, Michael cautiously withdrew his hand. He was far too old to be making mistakes like this, yet his pants were damp.
Overwhelmed with shame, Michael closed his eyes again.
Ireneâs face came back to him, clearer than before.
âDamn it all.â
A rare, harsh word slipped out.
On the lowest day of his life, he learned what heaven might be.
* * *
After that day, Michael halted dungeon expeditions for a while and secluded himself in the prayer room, praying to the divine day and night.
His body had remained pure and untainted by desire for over twenty-five years. The only explanation he could come up with for this sudden change was simple.
âIt must be the miasma.â
Knights who regularly entered dungeons began with clear minds, but as the miasma accumulated, their eyes would eventually grow clouded.
And upon emerging, they would display unrestrained desire toward their pair.
Surely he, too, had become infected by the miasma.
âIf I rest and keep praying, it should improve over time.â
Naturally, his ability to purify himself was far slower than that of a purifier, but his divine power could still cleanse the miasma to some extent.
So, by keeping his mind and body clear for a few days, surely, this shameful desire heâd felt would dissipate.
No, it had to.
However, after a few days, Michael realized something was amiss.
âA-Ah, ughâŚâ
It was the time he would typically be offering his nightly prayer, yet he found himself in the bath, struggling to calm the persistent tension below.
He let cold water pour over himself, hoping it would temper the heat.
But his body, which had been releasing a cloudy liquid for days, continued to express this frustrating desire today as well.
Though the water washed away any trace of it from his hands, his mind grew even more troubled.
He had thought it would subside over time, but instead, it only grew worse.
* * *
No matter how conflicted he felt, he couldnât stay cooped up in the prayer room forever.
He stood once again at the entrance of the dungeon, ready for another expedition.
Many pairs in the fortress greeted him warmly after his long absence.
âItâs good to see you again, Sir Michael. Were you unwell during your time away? We were quite worried.â
âThank you for your concern.â
Normally, he would have engaged in longer conversation, asking how other dungeon expeditions had turned out in his absence.
But today, Michael felt oddly unenthused about such conversations.
Instead, his gaze kept sweeping around the area.
Todayâs expedition was into a mid-to-high level dungeon.
Given the danger, each knight was preparing to enter with their purifier.
âIreneâŚâ
Scanning the purifiers, he searched for his pair.
Most knights entered dungeons with their purifier.
But Michael had never once gone in with Irene.
âThereâs no reason to.â
Dungeons were filled with dangerous monsters.
For those who frequently needed purification, this would make sense, but he had never been seriously injured, so he saw no need to put Irene in harmâs way.
Heâd told her she didnât need to accompany him on these expeditions.
Still, Irene had always shown up near the dungeon he was assigned to, watching him quietly before leaving.
She always did, yet today, strangely, there was no sign of her.
âDid⌠she not come?â
There was no reason for her to show up if they werenât going in together, but the realization that Irene wasnât there stirred an unfamiliar feeling of disappointment within him.
