The easternmost part of the Alkedania Empire’s capital.
At the heart of a mountain composed of white stone stands the grand temple, Libedan.
Though a few priests remained awake, it was too late for unauthorized entry. At the temple’s entrance, a portal opened, revealing a figure cloaked in red.
“Director Hillstain!”
The two soldiers, who had drawn their swords in caution at the sudden portal, quickly bowed their heads upon recognizing the visitor.
Non-affiliated individuals were permitted to use the temple only during strictly designated hours.
No matter how high their noble rank, even the most esteemed aristocrats could enter solely during times decreed by the imperial court and the temple—especially knights possessing extraordinary abilities, who required explicit permission to enter at all.
This policy had been implemented after the previous Holy Maiden lost her power. Frequent deaths among the numerous Holy Maiden candidates entering the temple necessitated special measures to prevent further tragedies.
Thus, in recent years, regulations governing temple access hours had been revised even more stringently.
Yet three individuals remained exempt.
Three indispensable, formidable bearers of extraordinary power within the Empire:
Crown Prince Killian Dietrich, Commander of the Imperial Knights, Hillstain Mathias, and Duke Dante Ian, currently exterminating demons in the southern desert. Three men.
Technically, there should have been four—but following a certain incident years ago, Killian developed a profound hatred for Edan, resulting in the Grand Duke being placed under strict access prohibition.
Edan, whose extraordinary power demanded the greatest healing energy, found temple access denial tantamount to a death sentence—especially as demonic incursions along the unyielding northern wall escalated in both frequency and scale.
Yet Killian absolutely refused to permit Edan any share of the Holy Maidens’ healing power.
After the previous Holy Maiden’s death from exhaustion, he exploited that very circumstance to further isolate Edan.
‘Given his immense power, Prince Edan will inevitably claim the lives of many Holy Maiden candidates. Can the Empire truly afford such losses? You must also consider the countless knights whose lives depend on that same healing energy.’
Superficially, this argument appeared to prioritize the welfare of Holy Maiden candidates and other gifted knights—but in truth, it amounted to sentencing Edan to suffer and die. Fortunately, while the Empire still required Edan’s strength, the Emperor’s authority granted him potions imbued with the Holy Maiden’s healing power.
Unlike Edan, Hillstain faced no such restrictions. Standing before the temple’s massive doors, he calmly commanded the guards.
“Open the gates.”
“Yes, sir!”
Creeeak—the soldiers sprang into action. As the temple’s great white doors swung open, a vast, lush, verdant garden came into view.
“Hail! Please enter!”
Receiving the soldiers’ crisp salutes, Hillstain strode purposefully toward the largest building situated at the center among the temple’s many structures.
He walked along immaculately maintained marble paths, free of even a single weed, beneath carefully pruned trees, ascended white stone steps, and entered the temple building. Proceeding down pristine white corridors, he headed toward the most secluded, deepest chamber within—the High Holy Maiden’s quarters, located on the topmost floor. Ivy’s room.
“Holy Maiden.”
Upon reaching the door, Hillstain knocked politely.
Though no reply came, since the knock served merely to announce his presence, he did not hesitate—pushing the door wide open without further delay.
He had half-expected she might be asleep, and waking her could be amusing—but despite the late hour, Ivy was gathered with her maids, chattering happily.
“Oh my! Lord Hillstain!”
Startled by the sound, Ivy turned her head toward the door. Spotting Hillstain standing there, she beamed with delight and rushed toward him.
Hillstain’s eyes softened as he bowed slightly, watching her run toward him, clutching the fluttering hem of her pink dress.
“I pay my respects to High Holy Maiden Ivy Violet.”
By then, Ivy had reached him, gazing up earnestly. She seemed far more beautiful than when she had first arrived from the countryside.
Her already porcelain skin had grown even paler, glowing with a lustrous, pearl-like sheen. Blinking her large, thick-lashed eyes, she reached out and took Hillstain’s hand.
“I’ve told you repeatedly—you needn’t be so formal with me.”
“Now that you’ve become High Holy Maiden, I must show you even greater reverence.”
Pleased by his words, Ivy laughed innocently.
She added softly,
“But I worry… it feels as if distance is growing between us.”
“That will never happen.”
Hillstain stepped fully into the room, dismissing the maids with a casual wave of his hand.
Click. The door shut. Hillstain immediately grasped Ivy’s waist, pulling her firmly toward him.
“Have I not told you repeatedly? I will always remain by your side, Ivy. I will grant you anything you desire.”
Despite his strong grip, Ivy offered no resistance. Blushing shyly, she allowed him to hold her waist, then whispered sweetly through her lovely lips,
“But why have you come today? It’s not your usual visit day.”
Hillstain typically visited Ivy to receive her healing power on Mondays or Tuesdays—the start of each week.
But today was Friday. While Hillstain could enter anytime regardless of the day, appearing without prior notice—especially so late at night—struck Ivy as unusual.
Since he hadn’t used his extraordinary ability recently, he suffered no significant pain from side effects; thus, this visit clearly wasn’t for treatment.
“I came because I wished to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
Hillstain released the gentle pressure on Ivy’s waist.
Instead of immediately asking his question, he turned his gaze toward the enormous pile of dresses the maids had been sorting.
“So you were selecting a gown for the celebratory ball.”
“Yes! Oh!”
As if struck by a sudden thought, Ivy quickly snatched a dress from atop the bed and held it against herself.
“What do you think of this one, Lord Hillstain? Does it suit me?”
It was an exquisite gown of pastel blue fabric, studded with diamond gems like scattered stars.
Clearly of the highest quality—and unmistakably sent by a specific person.
‘A gift from Lord Killian.’
Though the ornate design wasn’t to his personal taste, Hillstain smiled willingly and replied,
“It’s lovely.”
“Really? Then how about this one?”
Delighted, Ivy eagerly held up another dress against herself.
After repeating this three or four times, Hillstain—who had been watching her from a few paces away—stepped forward decisively. He gently ran his fingers through her hair.
“You are beautiful no matter what you wear.”
Ivy lowered her head slightly, looking abashed.
“But…”
“What is it?”
“I’m just a rustic girl from the countryside. Everyone praises my brown hair as beautiful, but I don’t think it’s pretty at all.”
“What nonsense. There is no woman more beautiful than you, Ivy. You are the Empire’s greatest beauty.”
“Still… I’m worried. Many noble ladies and young mistresses—women unlike me, a commoner—will attend the ball. No matter how I adorn myself… will I truly look beautiful?”
As she voiced her anxious thoughts, Ivy’s eyes welled with genuine concern.
Hillstain caressed her cheek and gave her the answer she longed to hear.
“No one at that gathering will praise any woman’s beauty except yours. If anyone dares, I will remove them myself.”
Ivy’s pure, delicate eyes sparkled; her face blossomed into a radiant smile.
“Really?”
At that simple compliment, Ivy intertwined her fingers around his arm. Hillstain nodded, satisfied.
Finally, he voiced the question he’d most wanted to ask.
“By the way, Ivy.”
“Yes!”
Setting down the dress she’d been holding, Ivy replied in her sweet voice.
“The friend you’ve been searching for—what was her name again?”
Pause. Ivy’s hands, busy arranging the dresses, stilled. Slowly, she turned to face Hillstain.
“You don’t mean… you’ve found her?”
Hillstain shook his head.
“Not yet—but I’m considering beginning a serious search. So, what is her name?”
Eyes brimming with hope, Ivy answered,
“Latieana Merigold. As I explained to the Crown Prince last time… she has very beautiful cherry-blossom-pink hair. She’s petite, and… um…”
“Go on. The more detailed your description, the easier she’ll be to find.”
“I’m a bit hesitant to say this…”
Ivy pressed a finger to her lips, hesitating as if reluctant to speak. After a brief silence, she continued,
“She isn’t strikingly beautiful or particularly distinctive—so I’m unsure what else to describe…”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to search based solely on her name and hair color.”
Ivy, who had hesitated for fear of speaking ill of her friend, regained her smile at Hillstain’s nonchalant reply.
“Yes. Her hair is truly uniquely beautiful—I’ve always been so envious of it.”
“Understood.”
Nodding, Hillstain watched as Ivy approached him pleadingly.
“You’ll definitely find her, won’t you?”
“Yes. Of course. I intend to claim the promise you’ve offered.”
“Naturally. If you find Latieana for me, my promise will belong entirely to you, Lord Hillstain.”
Bending slightly toward Ivy’s radiant smile, Hillstain gathered her hair in his hand and kissed it gently.
Ivy smiled back, her lovely face utterly free of shadows, brimming with happiness.
Watching her, Hillstain recalled the terms of that promise.
Shortly after arriving at the temple and adjusting to her new life, Ivy Violet had poured an immense amount of healing power into Crown Prince Killian.
Freed from his agony and restored to peace by her power, Killian vowed to grant Ivy any request she desired.
He assumed she—a girl raised in rural poverty—would naturally ask for precious jewels, luxurious gowns, or other material riches.
Yet Ivy shattered all expectations with her request.
‘Please find my friend! I beg you!’
According to the accompanying soldiers, two Holy Maiden candidates had originally been scheduled to arrive at the temple.
Because their region was so remote, they had traveled by carriage to reach the nearest portal—but one girl had suddenly fallen from the carriage.
They confirmed the door hadn’t been open or malfunctioning—it was inexplicable.
‘It was an accident. My friend only wanted to feel the breeze… she just… slipped by mistake…’
Male lead first thought she played hard to get, only to realize she
really disliked him
Short intro:
What she can’t stand the most is the streets full of effeminate men, especially that so-called top beauty whom she avoids at all costs.
Shen Yaoxing looks at Jiang Mingyue, who keeps approaching her with coy shyness.
Shen Yaoxing: Bro, don’t be like this, I’m really about to throw up!
She fears nothing in heaven or earth, except for him getting close to her.
*
At first he thought she was just using the trick of feigning indifference to attract his attention. Later, he learned that she truly despised him.
This dealt a heavy blow to Jiang Mingyue, and he vowed to make her, like everyone else, fall at his feet in worship!
***
Synopsis:
Before transmigrating, Shen Yaoxing only wanted to find a reliable man to spend her life with. Who knew that after transmigrating, she would become a reliable woman herself…
A forced misandrist, highly skilled, and reliable female lead
vs.
An initially aloof and arrogant, later morbid, obsessed male lead
_____
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