The moon hung high above the ocean.
Silver light washed over the cliffside.
The waves below continued their endless journey.
Ancient.
Unchanging.
Indifferent.
The shoreline had become peaceful.
The corruption was gone.
The monster was gone.
The screams that had haunted these waters for centuries were gone.
Yet.
The silence felt heavier than before.
Because now reality remained.
And reality was often more difficult to face than monsters.
Evelyne sat quietly upon the cold stone.
Kel's black cloak remained wrapped tightly around her body.
The oversized garment covered her completely.
The woman looked toward the ocean.
Then toward Kel.
Then toward the ocean again.
For centuries.
She had imagined this moment.
Freedom.
Liberation.
Salvation.
She had imagined a hero arriving.
A brave knight.
A legendary warrior.
A handsome prince.
Someone who would rescue her.
Take her away.
Tell her everything was alright.
Someone who would say:
"None of this was your fault."
Someone who would promise happiness.
Someone who would hold her hand and lead her toward a better future.
Instead.
She got Aedon Flinth.
And unfortunately.
Aedon Flinth appeared to function differently from normal people.
The silver-haired youth sat nearby.
Reviewing notes.
Actually reviewing notes.
Notes.
At a moment like this.
Evelyne wasn't entirely sure whether to laugh or cry.
Inside his mind.
Seiren observed the situation.
Then began laughing.
Very hard.
"Kel."
"Hm?"
"I think she expected something else."
"What?"
The Guardian tried not to laugh.
Failed.
"A romantic ending."
Kel looked confused.
"Why?"
Seiren laughed harder.
The Guardian physically couldn't answer for several seconds.
Meanwhile.
Evelyne quietly observed him.
The young man had saved her.
Purified her.
Restored her humanity.
Complimented her.
Listened to her story.
Treated her kindly.
Then—
Without warning—
Started calculating damages.
The contrast was destroying her sanity.
Kel finally looked up.
Then spoke calmly.
"Evelyne."
The woman immediately straightened.
"Y-Yes?"
Kel unfolded another page.
His expression remained thoughtful.
Far too thoughtful.
"I've reached a preliminary estimate."
The woman blinked.
"...estimate?"
Kel nodded.
"Regarding damages."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The ocean itself seemed confused.
Evelyne stared.
The words slowly entered her mind.
Then processed.
Then fully processed.
And finally—
Horror appeared.
Real horror.
Not monster horror.
Financial horror.
The most terrifying kind.
Kel continued.
"For approximately two centuries."
A pause.
"You consumed sea creatures."
The woman nodded weakly.
"You targeted magical species."
Another nod.
"Eventually."
Kel pointed toward another note.
"You began targeting juvenile Leviathans."
Evelyne immediately lowered her head.
The guilt became visible.
Painfully visible.
The silver-haired youth continued.
"Because juvenile Leviathans possess highly stable cores."
The woman nodded again.
"Yes."
Her voice barely emerged.
Kel folded the document.
"Your actions reduced local populations."
"The Leviathans noticed."
"They interpreted the disappearances as human hunting."
The woman froze.
Because she already knew where this was going.
And she hated it.
Very much.
"The Leviathans retaliated."
A pause.
"They attacked human vessels."
"The attacks increased."
"Trade routes suffered."
"Guild operations suffered."
"Fishermen suffered."
"Merchants suffered."
"The island suffered."
Each sentence felt like a hammer.
Each fact struck harder than the previous one.
The woman slowly shrank beneath the cloak.
As though physically trying to disappear.
Inside his mind.
Seiren finally spoke.
"You really are doing this."
"Yes."
"Right now."
"Yes."
"Immediately after saving her."
"Accountability matters."
The Guardian stared.
Then sighed.
Because unfortunately.
He was right.
Kel finally looked directly at Evelyne.
His golden eyes remained calm.
Not angry.
Not accusing.
Simply honest.
"Evelyne."
The woman nervously looked up.
"You were a monster."
The statement hurt.
Yet Kel continued.
"But you were still the one who made those choices."
The ocean wind passed between them.
The silver-haired youth spoke softly.
"You suffered."
A pause.
"You were betrayed."
Another pause.
"You lost your sanity."
The woman lowered her head.
Tears appeared again.
Because every word was true.
Then Kel continued.
"And I understand that."
The words carried no judgment.
Only understanding.
Which somehow made them hurt even more.
"But."
The woman froze.
There was always a but.
Always.
"People were still harmed."
The silence that followed felt endless.
Inside his mind.
Seiren stopped laughing.
Because now even she understood.
Kel wasn't punishing Evelyne.
He was treating her like a person.
Not a victim.
Not a monster.
A person.
And people possessed responsibilities.
The woman stared at him.
Trying desperately to understand.
Trying desperately to understand who he was.
Because nothing about him made sense.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
A normal hero would hate her.
A normal hero would kill her.
A normal hero would imprison her.
A normal hero would pity her.
A normal hero would ignore the consequences entirely.
Kel did none of those things.
Instead.
He saved her.
Then complimented her beauty.
Then handed her accountability.
Who does that?
What kind of person does that?
Inside her mind.
The image of countless romance stories appeared.
The stories she once read as a noblewoman.
The handsome knight saves the tragic lady.
The tragic lady falls in love.
The knight takes her away.
The story ends happily.
Simple.
Predictable.
Romantic.
Instead.
She got this.
A young man sitting beside the ocean.
Holding documents.
Explaining environmental damages.
And discussing Leviathan population decline.
Evelyne stared at him.
Long.
Very long.
Eventually.
She couldn't stop herself.
"Who are you?"
Kel looked up.
"Hm?"
The woman tightened the cloak around herself.
Her eyes remained fixed on him.
"Who are you really?"
The question escaped naturally.
Because she genuinely wanted to know.
The silver-haired youth thought for several seconds.
Then answered.
"A student."
Silence.
Evelyne stared.
Then stared harder.
Then continued staring.
Eventually.
She buried her face in her hands.
"That's not what I meant."
Inside his mind.
Seiren exploded into laughter again.
"She tried."
"I answered."
"You answered incorrectly."
"I disagree."
The Guardian laughed harder.
Meanwhile.
Evelyne slowly lowered her hands.
Then looked toward the moonlit ocean.
A faint smile appeared.
For perhaps the first time in centuries.
A genuine smile.
Not because her problems were solved.
Not because her future was secure.
Not because accountability disappeared.
But because someone had finally treated her honestly.
Not as a monster.
Not as a victim.
Not as a beautiful woman.
Not as a tragic story.
Simply as Evelyne.
And strangely.
That honesty felt more valuable than any fairy-tale ending she had once imagined.