“Take off your clothes and get in.”
Upon hearing Melro’s request, Arlette was immediately puzzled.
He had served as Melro’s attendant for ten years and had lost count of how many times he’d helped her bathe.
But now, she was telling him to undress and join her in the bath.
“Milady! This…”
“You don’t need to argue or evade. This is my order—just obey.”
Melro’s eyelids drooped slightly, her tone calm and natural, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world.
“…I understand.”
Arlette closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then removed his uniform as Melro had commanded.
His body was by no means robust—just a thin layer of muscle covering him.
It made one wonder how he managed to wear such heavy armor.
Like his face, his body was marked with scars, big and small.
Stripped of his armor, sword, and great shield, Arlette looked almost “delicate” and “harmless.”
If those guys at the tavern saw him like this, they’d never guess that this young man was the same heavy-armored knight.
“Um, Milady…”
“I’m coming in.”
“Mm, be careful and go slow.”
“Don’t splash water everywhere. I hate clumsy people.”
After confirming with her, Arlette slowly immersed his whole body into the bathtub.
The first thing he felt as he entered was how cramped it was.
When Melro bathed alone, the tub seemed big and spacious.
But the moment Arlette got in, it suddenly felt much smaller.
Then, Melro grabbed Arlette’s hand, interlacing her fingers with his, and placed her other hand over his chest, right above his heart.
Arlette had touched Melro’s body many times before.
But moments when the young lady initiated contact like this were so rare he could count them on one hand.
He had no idea what she planned to do next, but the soft sensation still made his heart race for a moment.
In the next instant, a faint pink glow lit up in Melro’s palm.
Magic gathered there.
She was using magic.
As a half-trained mage himself, Arlette immediately sensed something unusual.
This was a secret art that only the bloodline clan could use, inextricably linked to “blood.”
And just as Arlette realized this, a powerful weakness began to spread through his body.
It felt almost like… his strength and energy were being drained!
“Milady! What are you—?”
“Don’t worry. I’m using the water in this tub as a medium to filter out those disgusting drugs from your body.”
Melro focused intently on her spell, her face expressionless.
“Arlette, you are mine. I don’t want that woman’s medicine flowing through your veins.”
“I hate those smells, so I will clean them out and make you purer.”
“Do you understand?”
“You have no objection, do you, Arlette?”
Though her tone was gentle, there was an unspoken pressure that commanded obedience.
“……”
“Yes, Milady.”
Under Melro’s bloodline secret art, all the blood in Arlette’s body was thoroughly filtered.
All traces of the drugs in his body were drawn out into the bathwater.
“Ugh, what a stench. Looks like I’ll need to soak longer tonight.”
Melro seemed extremely displeased with the water now contaminated with “impurities.” Her brows twisted into a scowl.
“Arlette, go rest now. Leave me alone for a while.”
“Yes, Milady.”
Arlette’s body trembled a little.
As he left the hot bath, he could feel his body losing warmth.
He couldn’t tell whether it was the spell weighing on him, or the absence of the drugs’ healing effects.
Perhaps both.
At that moment, a crushing fatigue and weakness overtook him, filling him from head to toe.
From putting on his clothes to walking out of the bathhouse, Arlette was running on pure willpower.
“Huff… It’ll be fine.”
“I’m just tired. A good sleep will fix it.”
He refused to faint—at least not in front of Milady.
He had already upset her today; he couldn’t lose composure again.
Arlette felt drained.
His entire body was weak and uncomfortable.
A powerful nausea and dizziness churned inside him, and his barely healed wounds began to throb again.
Ringing in his ears, vertigo, shortness of breath, and double vision.
All these negative symptoms piled up on Arlette, worsening until he could barely walk.
Finally, as he forced himself to the edge of the corridor, Arlette could go no further.
His whole body went limp, his vision darkened, and he collapsed to the floor.
He could hear nothing.
The only thing growing clearer was the pounding of his own heart in his chest.
Just as helplessness washed over him and he was about to slip into unconsciousness, a figure suddenly appeared in his blurry vision.
He couldn’t see the face at all, only barely make out that it was a woman.
She was saying something as she rushed over, reaching out to steady Arlette’s swaying body.
The warmth from her body seeped into Arlette, giving him someone else to lean on.
Once she propped him up, he gasped for breath several times before he could speak.
“Is… is it you, Milady?”
At the height of his weakness, Arlette instinctively called out, “Milady.”
“Milady, you’re still willing to help me… that’s such a relief…”
“Ever since we started adventuring… Milady, you’ve changed so much…”
“I know I’m useless—it’s my fault.”
“But, cough… give me some time, I promise I’ll get stronger, I’ll be more useful.”
“I want to live up to the heavy knight role you gave me. I’ll help you reach the tenth floor of the dungeon, really…”
“Please…”
“Don’t abandon me…”
Lost in agony, Arlette’s mind was completely muddled.
He spoke from instinct, spilling out all the feelings he had hidden deep in his heart, telling them to the “Miss Melro” by his side.
But the person supporting him now had a strange light in her eyes.
A mix of surprise, hesitation, and even bitterness.
That’s right—the one holding up Arlette, listening to his every word, was not the Melro he so longed for.
But his other companion—the elven bard, Flaf.