To bestow a blessing, you first need to create a vessel within the recipient’s body to accept it. The vessel is located at a spot that overlaps with the heart, where the source of magical energy resides—like imagining forming a pouch there.
When you first give a blessing, the vessel is created, and from then on, you just infuse holy power into it. The more holy power you infuse, the bigger the vessel grows, but there’s one problem…
—To keep growing the vessel, you have to continue the… interaction.
The vessel expands when you infuse holy power, but if you stop for a while, say during travel, it will shrink back down. In other words, if we stop being physically intimate just because we’re traveling, all the progress we’ve made will crumble away.
And thinking about the Demon King, who is likely still gathering strength, I need to keep the blessing as strong as possible.
…That’s how I feel, but I’m in a serious dilemma here. The kisses feel too good, and it’s a problem.
I’m not brazen enough to kiss in a place where anyone could see us at any moment. So, when we’re in a town to purify it, we kiss in secret in my room. When traveling, it happens during Viirant’s night watch in the inn. Sometimes standing, sometimes sitting, sometimes Viirant bends down to kiss me while I sit.
But a kiss is a kiss, no matter how you do it. And it’s not just any kiss—it’s the kind where he teases the roof of my mouth with his tongue, slurps up my saliva with a wet sound, and tangles his tongue with mine in a deep, intimate way.
I’ve come to realize over these past few months that even when I thought he was holding back at first, this is his “restrained” version.
We’ve already purified over half of the towns, and each time, Viirant has played a vital role, but the cost of the blessing is steep. Even though his face still turns red every time we kiss, he’s getting bolder, and it’s becoming a real problem.
To put it simply—I’m already overwhelmed by the kissing alone, but now there’s caressing involved.
Viirant intertwines his fingers with mine, letting them roam my skin with tender affection. He strokes my cheeks, traces my neck, and slowly slides his hand down my back. And when I flinch, he smiles like he’s delighted by it.
Seeing that expression, I can’t possibly say anything.
I can’t admit that it feels so good that it’s becoming a problem. As a result, his touches are getting more and more improper, and I’ve started sneaking off to relieve myself.
Yes, this grown man has to sneak away to… take care of things. Every three days, like a teenager. It’s embarrassing beyond words.
“Shall we… do it again today?”
“O-Oh.”
It’s two days until we reach our next destination, and tonight is Viirant’s turn for night watch. After we’ve both gotten ready for bed, he always asks me like this.
In a dimly lit room with just one lantern, his voice is husky, and his eyes are filled with desire.
Despite all the times we’ve kissed, Viirant’s feelings don’t seem to have cooled at all. He doesn’t say he loves me outright, but he looks at me with such affection.
And every night, when I’m asleep, he gently touches my hair and presses his lips to my forehead. He whispers my name softly, letting out longing sighs, and waits for the dawn.
Viirant probably doesn’t know, but those subtle gestures are enough to wake me up because I’m a light sleeper.
…Of course, I pretend to be asleep because I can’t bring myself to mention it.
Even though my heart is restless, I accept his kisses.
His tongue ravages my mouth, and when my saliva dribbles down, he chases it, licking my skin. From the corner of my mouth to my chin, then down my neck to my Adam’s apple.
I’ve already given him the holy power—there’s no need to keep going.
We both know that, yet Viirant gently bites my Adam’s apple. His hand slips under my nightshirt, tracing my back and moving toward my waist.
Until I reject him, his improper actions won’t stop.
He kisses me over and over, tasting my saliva, tracing heat along my skin with his fingers, and gradually arousing me.
When he licked my collarbone, I held my breath, and Viirant pulled me into a tight embrace. Even though we’ve been in close contact so many times, he always maintained a proper distance. I had been careful not to let him notice my arousal by keeping a little space between us.
But suddenly, that space disappeared, and through the fabric, something hard rubbed against me.
Both mine and Viirant’s.
We were both undeniably aroused.
“!”
“…If you don’t want this, please… say no.”
“…?”
“But if you feel even a little pity for me… please…”
Viirant fell silent, still holding me close. We stayed pressed together, our bodies firmly aligned, with no space between us.
I could feel Viirant’s rapid heartbeat through our clothes.
—It must be really hard for him to stop here.
I thought this calmly, probably because I’m struggling just as much.
My body is incredibly aroused, and my… male instincts are screaming for stimulation. When something hard presses against me, it’s natural to want to rub against it.
I’m barely holding on to my reason, trying to think about the meaning behind Viirant’s words, but I can’t focus at all.
It’s like all my senses have gathered in one place, completely fixating on that.
“Pity…? What do you mean?”
I tried to make sense of it with my sluggish brain, but I couldn’t understand.
Why would Viirant say something about pity?
Sure, it would be cruel to leave him hanging, but I’m in the same boat.
He’s a strong, serious, and incredibly handsome knight with a bright future ahead of him—there’s nothing pitiful about him. He’s someone people envy, not pity.
“…I’ve loved you… for so long. Even more than before. I’ve come to know your strength, your recklessness, the way you rejoice at the smiles of the people, and how your lips tremble under my touch… Even though I know it’s hopeless, my feelings only grow stronger. The joy of touching you and the pain of not being able to touch you… it’s tearing me apart.”
I couldn’t see Viirant’s expression because of how tightly he was holding me, but I could hear his voice trembling, and his body was burning hot.
…When did he start feeling this way?
He could kiss the one he loves, but nothing beyond that.
Living like that for months… Is that why he’s feeling so tortured?
I don’t really understand love.
And it still feels strange that the person he loves is me.
No matter how I look at it, I’m just a worn-out old man. How did Viirant end up losing his mind over me?
—But… I don’t know what to do.
I like Viirant.
I don’t want to see him in pain, and I want to see him smile if possible.
His shy, embarrassed smile is especially precious—it’s so rare that it always makes me smile in return.
He’s brave when he fights, and his broad back, shielding me, is reliable and strong. Sure, I’ve been scolded harshly a few times, but it makes me happy to know how much he cares.
He’s so serious that he even apologizes for his harsh words later, which is kind of endearing.
But on the other hand, his kisses are clingy, and his hands wander a bit too much.
He’s always making things difficult for me, without even realizing it.
…My thoughts are all over the place, but that’s how Viirant is to me.
If someone asked whether I liked him or not, the answer is definitely yes. There’s no doubt about that.
But what kind of “like” it is… I honestly have no idea.
It’s probably unfair to Viirant, but I’ve been single for forty-two years.
I can’t even remember if I’ve experienced my first love or if I’ve ever loved anyone at all—it’s all so vague, so distant.
For a dried-up old man like me, love and romance are way too complicated.
I have no idea what to do.
“Uh… so, I think I understand how you feel, Viirant… I’m sorry for pushing you so far.”
“N-No, you haven’t done anything wrong—”
“Yeah, I have. I’ve always been bad at understanding people’s feelings—it’s something I’ve been told since forever. I’m not good with this stuff… so I don’t get it. Can I ask you something?”
I slid my hand up his broad, muscular back to soothe him as he trembled slightly.
His back was strong and well-built, with thick muscles even through his clothes, but now they were tense with stress.
As I stroked his back to help him relax, I searched for the right words.
“…In the end, what is it that you want?”
