- 3rd person POV -
[Congratulations, You have saved the [Forgotten Heroine – Naelia]]
[You have leveled up]
[You have leveled up]
[You have leveled up]
[You have leveled up]
[Congratulations! You have reached a threshold: Level 10]
[You can now choose a class]
[Rewards for save are being distributed...]
Azel stared at the flood of translucent blue notifications floating in front of him, his crimson eyes twitching slightly as his lips pressed into a tight line.
His arms were full — literally full — with the unconscious princess in his hold, and now the system wanted his attention?
A vein throbbed on his forehead as he let out a low, exasperated sigh.
"Now? Really?" he muttered under his breath. "Couldn’t have waited five minutes?"
With a single thought, the screens vanished — he’d check them later.
Hopefully, the rewards were something good. A weapon, maybe? A stat boost? A girlfriend? ...Okay, maybe that last one was asking too much, but in this world, with how cruel it was, Azel would take anything that made his journey easier.
Except the protagonist. Screw the protagonist.
Azel adjusted the princess in his arms, carrying her in a gentle princess carry. She was warmer than expected and thankfully not as frail as he feared.
Her soft hair brushed against his arm and he could faintly feel the rise and fall of her breath —she was alive, and more importantly, she was safe.
That alone made everything worth it.
His eyes soon turned to the other girl in the room �� the one who had bought him just enough time to end the madman.
Her breathing was rough, shallow from the kick she’d taken earlier, but it was slowly stabilizing.
Her dark eyes met his, cautious and unreadable.
He stepped toward her and extended his free hand.
"Here," he said, voice soft yet steady. "I’ve come to save the both of you."
The girl looked up, skeptical, unmoving.
Her body remained slumped on the floor, but her words cut through the air like a cold wind.
"You came here to save the princess. It has nothing to do with me."
Ah, there it was. That razor-sharp tongue.
Azel almost smiled.
"And so?" he replied. "A friend of the princess is a friend of mine."
"We’re not friends," she said flatly, blinking once.
"Didn’t you help her out?"
"Yes. But that’s only because she doesn’t belong here. I had to."
Azel’s smile faded slightly.
It wasn’t frustration or anger — it was something else. A quiet understanding.
He kneeled beside her, making sure the princess in his arms was balanced, then looked Ira in the eye.
"I get it," he said, voice low now. "You were dragged into something you never asked for. You survived in a place like this on your own. You made hard choices. You’re probably used to being ignored, abandoned... treated like nothing."
Her eyes flickered ever so slightly.
"But you still helped her. Even when no one told you to. Even when no one would’ve blamed you for looking the other way."
He exhaled. "That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you a good person. And I know the world hasn’t exactly been kind enough to make you feel that way, but it’s the truth."
Ira blinked.
Once.
Then again.
Azel reached out again, gently, no pressure.
"You can stay here. Keep surviving like you always have, clawing for scraps in a town that won’t care whether you’re alive tomorrow... or you can come with us. The princess would be happy to have you by her side. I’d be happy to have you with us."
Ira didn’t answer for a moment.
Then she let out a slow sigh. And finally, she took his hand.
"...Fine. But only because she needs someone familiar," she said, her voice quieter now.
Azel smiled as he pulled her to her feet.
He didn’t notice the faint blush rising on her cheeks — or the way her hand lingered in his for a moment too long.
[Congratulations, you have saved the [Emotionless Heroine – Ira]]
[You have leveled up]
The notifications pinged again, but Azel swatted them away with another mental command.
Later.
This moment mattered more.
He held her hand firmly in one, while the princess remained in his other arm, tucked close to his chest.
Just then, the door creaked open and in walked Steven, dusting off his hands like he had just returned from a light jog rather than demolishing a group of trained criminals.
He paused as he took in the sight: Azel, flustered but calm, holding one girl like a fairy tale knight and the other still clutching his hand.
Then he whistled.
"Well, well, you’ve become quite the womanizer, eh?"
Azel sputtered immediately, the tips of his ears turning red. "I—I’m not! That’s not—I was just—"
Steven grinned, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe, watching the show unfold like a proud uncle watching his nephew get teased by his crush at a family dinner.
Ira, for her part, blinked — then burst into genuine, unrestrained laughter. The sound was surprisingly melodic, the first sign of something human behind that stoic shell.
Steven laughed too, deep and rumbling.
And Azel, still flustered and red in the face, could only grumble.
’Why do I even do this...?���
But in truth — he didn’t mind it.
Not one bit.