An Unwanted Savior, Part 4

WITH PRACTICED EASE, she gathered mana into her eyes and ears, heightening her senses to scan the darkness beyond the gates. Somewhere out there her saviors were still walking, and she wouldn’t let them leave just like that.

“Lord Galardos! Lord Gromni! Are you still there?”

Milla called out into the dark, hoping they'd return from wherever they’d gone.

To her surprise, with magic brimming in her eyes, she spotted two faint silhouettes shimmering beneath the moonlight just beyond the gate.

Nearly translucent, hidden in plain sight.

“Oi. She’s onto us, mate.”

The shorter figure muttered, low and coarse. The taller one gave a subtle motion in agreement. And then, the veil of magic lifted. The demigod and the dwarf stood revealed, their invisibility spell fading like a fine mist.

“W— Whoa! Lord Galardos! You… you heard all that?”

Milla flinched, realizing they’d overheard everything: her defense, her argument, her refusal to betray them. Galardos scratched his head, visibly awkward.

“You’re a good lass, Missy,” Gromni said, flashing a bright grin. “This one won’t admit it, but you’ve made us proud.”

His words beamed with warmth, especially beside Galardos, who now looked completely out of place in his own armor. He wasn’t used to having others stand up for him, not after his fall from grace a decade prior.

“Shut up, Gromni. Don’t make it worse,” the demigod muttered, clearly shaken.

Milla couldn’t help but stare. The Empire’s most feared exile, the infamous traitor himself — that man, of all people, was blushing behind his wall of dignity?

It was, against all odds… kind of adorable.

She hadn’t expected to feel that way about one of the Empire’s most terrifying figures, but now that she’d met him face to face, Milla couldn’t help but think he was much softer than he let the world believe.

The sight was so disarming that Milla couldn’t help but laugh. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, her anger from moments ago already melting away. She didn’t know what the future held, but something told her that if she stuck with the dynamic duo in front of her, she’d get along just fine.

“Um, you two… You don’t have a place to spend the night, do you?” she asked with a smile. “Come crash at my place. I’ll treat you to dinner.”

Her offer sent a ripple of hushed panic through the villagers behind her. And as for the adventurers, both stared at her in stunned silence. Of all the things she could’ve said, this was not one Galardos had expected.

They’d already agreed to meet in secret. So why, in Zarielle’s green earth, did she publicly invite him into her home?

“Yo, Missy! Are you serious?” Gromni shouted, his eyes shining with delight. To think he’d have a roof overhead, with a home-cooked meal — and, if luck would have it, maybe even a bottle of strong spirits.

“Of course I’m serious,” Milla said brightly. “You’ve done us a great service. It might be a bit late for me to say it, but I’d be ashamed if I let you leave empty-handed.”

She beamed at them, especially at Galardos, whose expression remained clouded with doubt. To him, it made no sense. Just what was she playing at?

Was this charity? Defiance?

Why would she go against her peers for the sake of a rogue like him?

Unable to read her intentions, Galardos finally spoke.

“Our job here is done, Lady Milla. There’s no reason to keep us any longer, is there?”

He kept his voice neutral, trying gently to dissuade her. But Milla shook her head, firm with that same unwavering smile.

“Oh, there are plenty of reasons,” she said. “You saved us; and not once, but twice. You forgave me for attacking you. You apologized for frightening me. And even now, you’re still here… waiting to help me again, no matter what everyone else is saying.”

Her voice softened. “So how could I not invite you? It’s cold out here, and I’d like a chance to talk with you properly. Just… sit down, share a meal, and speak without spells, or swords, or monsters involved. Just us.”

She held his gaze, sincere to the core.

“So what do you say, my Lord? Will you indulge me?”

It was then that it dawned on Galardos: Milla wasn’t trying to gain anything.

No hidden motive. No political play. Just sincerity — genuine, unadorned kindness.

She had nothing to gain from defending him publicly, nor from inviting him into her home. And yet she’d done both.

Among demigods, such gestures were rarer than stardust. They were leaders by blood: commanders, tacticians, instruments of the Empire.

Galardos knew this mold well. At over a thousand years old, he had long since accepted his role as a creature of obedience and duty, not sentiment.

But this girl — this fledgling, barely grown into her own power — she had reached out to him with no pretense or subterfuge.

Just gratitude.

Just warmth.

Just… a meal.

And it was that very simplicity that made it dangerous, because Milla’s situation was already precarious. She had revealed her power before everyone, and now her fate stood on the balance.

Being seen with him, an outlaw, could only worsen her standing.

She must have known that.

And still… she invited him anyway.

“I appreciate the offer, truly. But I must decline.”

Galardos’ tone was humble, but final.

“I’m a deserter of the Imperial army — a traitor, as decreed by Her Imperial Majesty, Henrietta of House Iustan. You and I must not associate any further than we already have. If word spreads, you’ll draw the ire of the Imperial Family… and the Great Houses will not be so forgiving.”

Galardos clearly laid out his rejection, but to his surprise, Milla didn’t flinch. Rather than that, she warmly doubled down on her invitation.

“Yeah, and I’m a criminal too,” she said with a soft smile. “I’m a rogue demigod, remember? So stop whining and get in here; I’ll whip us up some dinner.”

The sight of her was such that Galardos froze.

He experienced something that felt outright alien; he couldn’t even find the right word to describe it. In all his long years, had he ever felt that way before? For the life of him, he couldn’t remember.

For ten years, since his fall from grace, Galardos’ life had shifted from the height of glory to the depths of solitude. Only his friend Gromni was there by his side, for even his relationship with his faithful companion Alaiel had been strained.

But now, this fledgling demigoddess had somehow blasted her way into his life, and showed no signs of stopping.

“Lady Milla, I…” he looked down. “You must have heard of me.”

His voice turned heavy.

“I sparked a war with the Kathenian Republic, and the Emperor died because of it. Then I abandoned my Order, forsook my legions, vacated my Astral Sanctuary... By decree of Her Imperial Majesty, I am a deserter and an outlaw. That is true, all of it.”

As Galardos recounted his crimes, Milla could see it clearly: the pain, regret and remorse that plagued him. Whatever had driven him to commit those transgressions, she could tell that he bore no malice or evil in his heart.

“Yes. Perhaps you’re right,” Milla said gently. “Maybe you did commit all those sins, and maybe you should be punished for them. But you haven’t done any of that to me.”

Her voice didn’t waver.

“The others can say what they want about you, and your self-judgment could be the harshest of them all. But you’re not fooling me, Galardos.”

Her gaze locked with his, unshaken and unafraid.

“I know you’re a good man, and the rumors won’t take that away. Not from me.”

Her words melted through him like a beam of light.

A decade ago, Galardos had wept after the Emperor’s death.

Tears of shame. Of fury.

But now, standing before this radiant girl with her maddening kindness…

The old demigod was dangerously close to needing magic to hold his tears at bay.

This wave of relief, joy and acceptance — they were things he had no right to feel.

And yet, he felt them all the same.

It shook him.

As a former ruler of the northern province, Galardos understood the weight of his transgressions. He deserved the hatred, the shame. Thousands had pledged their very lives to him, and he had forsaken them. There was no forgiveness for that.

But somehow, this girl looked at him, and despite his failures… she still extended her hand in pure and sincere welcome.

“How can you say that, after everything I’ve done?”

Part of him wished she would turn him away, but Milla showed no intentions of it.

“Well, you must’ve had your reasons, right?” she replied, with no trace of judgment in her words. “If you were half the villain you paint yourself as, you’d have let me die here. But you didn’t, and that says everything to me.”

Then, without a shred of hesitation, she insisted:

“So come on now. Let’s go home.”

The moonlight glimmered in Galardos’ eyes, as he was gently dazzled by the sight of Milla extending her invitation. He had not yet realized it, but his fate had been inextricably entwined to that of the young woman before him... with all the consequences it would bring to them both.