Initially, Julius had planned to wait until Ame fell asleep so he could take his leave.

...Further into the night, said plan eventually changed.

The candlestick on the bedside table casted an overgrown shadow right on the adjacent wall.

...Nevertheless, the curled-up witch, who slept right beside him, seemed to have shrunk.

The more he casted his gaze upon her resting figure, the more restless he got—

—the more he thought that he shouldn’t leave her alone.

In the pursuit of magic, it was only natural for one’s body to undergone alterations. One of such alterations include having magic as something one couldn’t do without.

As one grew more advanced, the more dependent they’d be.

It was worth mentioning that in case of someone going pass the point of no return, said magic would crystallize, transforming the magician’s heart into an organ that would continuously produce and pump magic throughout their entire body. That organ was commonly referred to as a [Core], while the phenomenon itself as [Pandemonium]—because at that point, the magic user would be no different than a demon, be it in term of constitution, or mental state.

Julius imagined a high-class witch like Ame to have a body that was fueled by magic, albeit not having formed a [Core], yet.

As it was, her body must be struggling to replenish its magic.

In cases of the church’s templars, the act of depleting oneself entirely of magic was simply unheard of.

It was because despite the fact that their body was still that of a human’s, they needed some amount of magic to keep living.

Despite having evolved, they didn’t have a magical powerhouse like the [Core]. Thus, their magic would be restored at a slower rate.

As part of survival mechanism, when a magician had exhausted his magic beyond a certain threshold, he’d fall unconscious, if not fell straight into comma, as his body tried to recover its magic while also preserving the organs through the spare amount of magic it had left.

On the other hand, if a magician was completely devoid of magic, his body usually wouldn’t be able to keep up with the latter. Thus, death due to organ failure was certain.

Ame spent about an hour wheezing in pain. It was faint at first—probably because she was still awake, and was trying to be thoughtful. But, as she grew closer to the edge of slumber, she could no longer suppress it. Thus, the girl’s suffering became apparent.

But then, it stopped.

The moment when peace and quiet had returned into the room was the exact time Julius was, and had been, on high alert ever since.

The thought of bringing her to a place where she could get some treatment occurred to him multiple times.

But where would that be?

If a normal person were to get sick, he’d go visit a doctor.

If it was a templar, then the church’s medical ward.

But what about the witch?

In that world, the witch was an existence that had to be purged, not saved.

Therefore, that kind of place never existed.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t within his nature to just keep silent and do nothing.

He had lost count of how many times he had leant in to listen to her breathings. When he confirmed that she was still alive, his heart would leap with relief. But when he saw how pale her complexion was, it’d sank again.

Just like that, Julius had bequeathed half of his night to the witch.

As time passed, the more determined he had become. If the witch didn’t show any signs of recovering, he’d bring her to the church. If Rachel were to know that the witch was his benefactor, she’d surely understand. Then, she might be able to come up with something.

However, the witch did recover.

About three hours after he started monitoring her, he noticed something.

The window on the above ceiling, which displayed the cloudless night sky, bring forth the radiance of a thousand stars. Under such brilliance, he could perceive Ame’s complexion had regained some of its color.

...!

It must be because she was a supreme witch. Had she been but an ordinary magician, she’d have succumbed to organ failure since long ago.

It was because she was a witch.

In his entire life, Julius never felt more thankful towards that fact then at the present.

Overwhelmed by relief, Julius couldn’t conceal his joy—

“—Thank God...!”

As soon as those words escaped his mouth, Julius was overtaken by surprise.

Despite their close proximity, Julius couldn’t see his own reflection within her eyes, for she was asleep.

But what had spread on his face was definitely a smile.

He was relieved due to the recovery of his benefactor.

While that alone wasn't strange, the feelings inside his chest said the otherwise.

It was a stifling sensation, one of joy, that felt ready to burst at any moment. Simply labeling it as 'relief' wouldn't suffice.

Then, what—or more precisely, why...?

Thinking back about his actions that entire night—staying by her side, keeping an eye on her condition, feeling concern towards her...

Albeit nothing seemed amiss at a glance, it was the fact that he unwittingly committed to them that was the most baffling.

Even if she had saved him, she was still a witch. Even if she wasn't guilty of tonight's incident, it didn't mean she was innocent of the other charges.

In fact, was she truly not guilty of the curse which had befallen him?

What if it was some kind of an elaborate set-up?

He hadn't even conducted a proper investigation, as such, should he just believe in what the witch said?

Extorting them through further questioning was the only way a witch's words could be granted any value.

...Yet, the entire time he stayed by her side, none of such doubts resurfaced.

Even now, after he had been confronted by his lack of foresight, he didn’t suspect her.

He couldn’t bring himself to.

Granting her a moment of reprieve was already a great act of mercy--would probably be the conviction his past self eagerly stood by as he proceeded to drag her to the dungeon.

However, staring at her sleeping self while exhaling in self-deprecation was as far as his present self could go.

"...When you told me that you're willing to risk your life for me, I've decided to see if you can be trusted."

Whether or not his solitary remark was made in purpose to convince himself, he didn't know.

"...As of the present, I'm merely adhering to my previous words."

Despite where they stood, he wasn’t callous enough as to not feel gratitude.

As such, he was merely repaying her kindness.

Indeed. Nothing about his previous actions was out of the line. Thus, everything made sense—everything was reasonable—it had to!

...Because otherwise;

Otherwise...

Amidst the fact that his face was still hovering above her, the girl decided to turn around.

Something hot, and at the same time, soft brushed against his lips.

It was none other than the witch’s own.

“...!”

He had just been kissed by the witch.

It lasted briefly, but the shock that came after the realization lasted for a while.

The girl, which was now facing him, was still asleep.

Which meant that it was a coincidence; an accident.

But his next action definitely wasn’t.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

Once again, his lips tasted the blissful hotness. The once fading sensation was thus rekindled. Amidst the daze, he stayed in that position for what felt like eternity.

...How do I explain this?

***

As Julius sat on the edge of the bed, he ruminated about the endless barrage of questions that came after his preceding action.

...I should’ve seen this coming—!

When the witch insisted for them to share a room, he shouldn’t have relented. That way, there’d be no chance for any kind of accidents or mishaps to occur.

Something made him agree, and that was his overestimation—towards his own self.

Julius never perceived himself as someone who’d lost control. He also hadn’t forgotten the fact that the other party was a witch.

However, regardless of the why(s) and how(s), the fact that he had just took advantage of a slumbering girl like some good-for-nothing ruffian would never change.

That night, not only had he endangered her life, he had also taken advantage of her. There was no end to his list of crimes.

He was unsure how he was going to meet her in the eyes in the future...

...Even then, when both of her eyes were closed, he couldn’t afford to look at her direction.

He also came to realize that he had no reason to remain in that room.

By all means, he should leave.

...But, what if she...?

Due to the added burden of worry and unease, his legs refused to budge.

But what right did he have to worry about her? Much else remain by her side? Him, of all people...?

His overthinking, which resulted in his failure to notice a figure that slowly crept towards him, was his oversight.