Being a nameless hero isn’t as easy as people like to believe. Phainon always had to be ready at a moment’s notice whenever Okhema needed him. Fortunately, Okhema had known peace for over a thousand years now, and the Flame Reaver hadn’t been seen since the day they gathered all the Coreflames.

Lately, Phainon hadn’t been doing much besides keeping an eye on the Black Tide—though Mydei had taken over that responsibility for him.

And now, here he was, sitting quietly in the same spot for who-knows-how-long. Maybe minutes. Probably hours. Either going through documents or absentmindedly sharpening his sword.

He’d always been too busy—so much so that he often forgot to take care of himself. Aglaea had reminded him once, half scolding, half gently: “You need to slow down. Find someone. Be happy for once.”

And he listened. Surprisingly, he did.

There was always this one person who’d caught his eye—the one he’d saved from the Black Tide. How could he not fall? You were… captivating. Even when he didn’t realize it, he’d do little things, childish things—like subtly blocking you from other men, as if his presence alone could keep them from noticing you.

Years passed. He courted you. You accepted. Perfect. Now you both lived together—two lovebirds under the same roof.

And for Phainon, this was all he ever wanted. A quiet, peaceful life with the one he loved. You drove him crazy—in the best way. But he was still a supposedly mature man, or so he liked to remind himself. So, he kept his composure. Dignity intact.

Even just a moment ago, when you’d wanted his attention—he tried to stay calm, tried not to look too eager. Now you were sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest while he stared at the stack of documents in front of him, pretending to read.

He was a busy man, he reminded himself. A busy man with responsibilities. A busy man who definitely wasn’t wagging his imaginary tail like an excited puppy. Nope. Not him.

So he distracted himself with work, flipping through another page.

And paused.

Not because he didn’t understand what he was reading—but because it was just… absurd. He blinked at the paper, genuinely confused.

What even was this?