A Long Time

The problem with Io was twofold: he was far too handsome, and practically inseparable from Flowsand as if he were her shadow.

Although he was a youth, he had the stature and charm of a mature man; his figure overwhelmed Richard’s, at least for now. Alongside his elegant, sacred aura and the outfit from the Church designed for battle priests, he was as dazzling as the sun. Stood next to him, Richard looked like a young and inexperienced teen. Of course, Richard was confident in cutting him apart whether they were in melee combat or far apart.

Even more frustrating was the fact that Flowsand had absolute trust in the youth, not stopping him from getting close. It offset Richard’s mood greatly; he wanted to ask her about it, but didn’t know where to start. Io behaved like he was Flowsand’s personal guard; he did everything for her, but still maintained a strict distance.

‘But the boundary is only ten centimetres? That’s too close!’

Richard also questioned whether he truly was Flowsand’s guard. Since when were members of the clergy guarded...