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~Chapter 8~
From far away, she thought she could faintly hear someone shouting, “Fire!”
But what were the chances it was her own house?
Waking from sleep to find her home blazing, Shariette was speechless.
If she had kept sleeping, she might have been roasted along with her bed.
‘Time to get up, Shati.’
It had felt like she was having a rare, pleasant dream.
But the voice that gently pushed her toward reality scattered without shape, like sugar melting in water.
She ran straight to the shelf by the counter and grabbed her usual vine-decorated box.
‘The front door is about to collapse. The window… probably where the fire started. The flames are too strong.’
Shariette calmly assessed the situation, looking for the direction with the highest chance of survival.
‘The fire hasn’t spread much to the second floor. There’s a tree near the attic window—if I jump there, I can make it.’
If things went badly, she might break a shoulder, an arm, or a leg. That was acceptable.
Waiting around for rescue was never an option in her mind.
But just as she reached the middle of the stairs, the burning section gave way and collapsed.
“Ah!”
In that instant, a strong hand grabbed her arm midair.
“……!”
Jumping down from above the stairs, he landed lightly with her held firmly in one arm.
“Your judgment wasn’t bad. Just your luck.”
“…Noxian Rubellot?”
As he said, they were still right in the middle of the blaze.
“What are you doing here?”
Shariette asked in confusion.
Didn’t he say he was staying at Ronya’s inn?
And seriously, who walks into a burning building?
Instead of answering, a firm hand pushed her head against his chest.
With his other hand, he held his sword upside down.
“Hold on tight, Shariette.”
His low, decisive voice rang in her ears.
“Hold your breath.”
The moment the short, clear order fell, a fierce force surged from behind him like a massive wave.
Bang! Crash! Boom!
Explosions loud enough to deafen rang out in succession.
A storm of aura swept away all the flames, heat, and air at once.
For a moment, everything was silent, like the world had gone into a vacuum. Shariette could still tell:
‘If I get caught in this, I’ll really die.’
Suddenly her feet lifted off the ground.
Help!
Shariette instinctively wrapped her arms tightly around Noxian.
While she was jolted around in the storm, the man didn’t move an inch.
Even with her clinging for dear life, he still had the leisure to pat the back of her head with one hand.
‘…?’
While she wondered what that signal meant, the overwhelming force scattered the flames in all directions.
Finally, as if time had stopped, calm returned.
“Who was going to save who, again?”
“Our abilities are in different leagues!”
Shariette snapped back at Noxian’s mocking words.
While she rummaged through a jewelry-box-like container, he checked if she was injured.
She had been trying to ignore it, but yes—she was in her nightgown.
On a summer night, the thin negligee clung to her curves, pale skin showing clearly.
The arms that had wrapped around him moments ago, the slim waist that had fit lightly in his hold—he could still feel the soft lines.
It took effort to remove the indecency from his gaze.
He took off his robe and draped it over her shoulders.
“This drags on the floor too much.”
Seemingly unaware she’d almost burned to death, she fussed with the heavy hem.
“Even if it’s uncomfortable, keep it on. It’s not something you should let others see.”
“It keeps getting caught on my fee—!”
Shariette’s complaint cut off.
Suddenly his face was so close she could feel his breath. Then her feet left the ground and her body tilted backward.
She quickly ducked her head and covered it with both arms.
‘Neck fracture, skull fracture, brainstem injury!’
No time to brag about her recovery ability—instant death!
“What are you doing?”
His pleasant voice came from above her head.
Huh. Shariette lifted her head.
Their eyes met up close.
Holding her under her back and knees, Noxian looked down at her in puzzlement.
…Wait, so he hadn’t been about to throw her for talking back?
“You could drop me by accident.”
She denied it quickly, as if she’d never had such a terrible thought.
Noxian smirked at the claim from someone who weighed almost nothing.
“You’re afraid of falling, but not of fire? You should’ve saved yourself before grabbing your jewel box.”
Hmph. She had her reasons. Shariette stated them confidently.
“I can survive inhaling smoke for 49 minutes and 14 seconds. If the stairs hadn’t collapsed, I’d have made it out.”
“….”
Noxian frowned.
The unbelievable part was one thing—the strangely exact number was another.
She could only know that by actually testing it.
One wrong move and she’d be dead. Was she sane?
“Why would you even try that?”
“Because it helps in situations like this.”
He noticed she had skipped the ‘why’ in her answer.
‘Such a strange woman.’
Whatever was in that small head of hers, it was impossible to predict.
“Fine, clever. But with all that brains, you missed this?”
Through the gap in the robe, her pale ankle was visible.
Her bare foot was bloodied from stepping on something.
That was why he had picked her up.
Shariette wiggled her toes playfully.
“It’s not cut off or anything.”
She diagnosed it like an apothecary.
“Just light abrasions and lacerations, shallow punctures. Wash and apply ointment—it’ll heal.”
…How decisive.
Noxian saw another thing she had in common with “Shasha.”
For all her meddling in others’ business, she was careless with her own body.
Maybe she didn’t feel pain, or was numb to it.
‘No fragments stuck in, at least. But that cut is a bit deep.’
His gaze traveled up her leg, pausing on her left ankle.
There was an old scar—something “Shasha” hadn’t had.
The rough ring-shaped mark suggested she’d once been caught in a trap or snare, and quite deeply.
“Got that in the forest?”
Shariette nodded vaguely and asked something more important.
“So why did you come?”
“Wouldn’t do for the personal physician I finally found to die suddenly.”
“You already loaded the sleeping potion sample onto the carriage.”
Noxian’s eyebrow twitched.
‘So that was the first thing she saved.’
Even if she disappeared, as long as the medicine remained—that was her indifferent attitude.
The same as that woman who had prepared to vanish with a lie.
‘Shasha, what’s this?’
[Remaining antidote.]
‘I can see that. Why give it early today?’
[It’s a hassle to bring a new one every time. This way’s more convenient for you too.]
Noxian gave a cold smile. Unknowingly, his arms tightened around her.
“If you wanted to die, too bad. I might be a bastard, but I don’t believe in letting people die just because I got what I wanted.”
Ah, he’s angry.
His tone hadn’t changed, but the slightly harsher words gave him away.
She could already guess what would come next. Calmly, she decided:
Well, as thanks for saving me, I can let him hit me a few times to cool off.
Not a big deal.
‘I’ll make a special exception and not dodge. Consider it in place of the bonus I didn’t give.’
Easy as drinking cold soup.
She relaxed her body completely and began to shut off her senses, separating her awareness.
A body was just a shell—she could imagine it in any form she liked.
‘A doll… no, for this man who uses a sword, maybe a training scarecrow.’
Stuffed with straw.
It would give him good impact.
But Noxian interpreted her limp weight differently.
“Stay awake. We need to see the arsonist’s face.”
“…?”
While she was caught off guard, Noxian found a way out through the collapsed ashes.
