The entire dining hall felt like it stopped breathing.
The Armour guy slowly turned his head, his fist still frozen in the air, caught tightly in someone else's grip.
His eyes widened.
"Sister… Alessia?"
Her hand was wrapped firmly around his wrist. Calm. Steady. Unshaken.
She hadn't even moved her feet.
The shock on his face lasted only a second—then anger surged back, hotter than before.
"What is this?" he snapped.
"Let go of my hand."
Elias stood frozen between them, head lowered, body strangely still. His heart was no longer racing. Instead, it felt distant, like something was watching the moment from deep inside him.
The Armour guy yanked his arm once.
She didn't budge.
His jaw clenched.
"Leave. My. Hand," he growled, voice rising.
A low vibration filled the air.
VMMMM!!—
A red aura burst from his body, violent and burning, spreading outward like heat waves. Plates rattled on tables. People stepped back instinctively, some shielding their faces as the pressure rolled through the hall.
The Armour guy muscles tightened. Veins stood out along his arms and neck.
Everyone felt it—a weight pressing down on their chest, heavy and suffocating.
This was a Warden's power.
The red energy surged stronger, wrapping around the man like a living flame.
Whispers turned into gasps.
"He's releasing his aura—"
"Inside the dining hall—?"
"He's lost it—"
Alessia finally moved.
Not back.
Forward.
Her eyes lifted, locking directly onto his.
And then—
SHHHMMM—!!
A deep green aura erupted from her body.
It wasn't wild.
It wasn't loud.
But it was overwhelming.
Twice the size of his aura, calm yet crushing, pouring out like a vast tide. The red energy wavered the moment it touched hers, pushed back as if it had struck a wall.
The pressure doubled.
People staggered. Some dropped to one knee.
Elias felt the force rush past him—but strangely, it didn't hurt. It flowed around him instead, like she was shielding him without even trying.
Alessia spoke.
Her voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
"Go," she said.
The Armour guy glared at her, teeth bared.
"This doesn't concern you."
Her grip tightened just a fraction.
"I said," she repeated, voice steady and absolute,
"Go. To. Your. Room."
For a moment, the two auras clashed—red against green, heat against control. The air between them trembled, humming with power.
Then—
The Armour guy exhaled sharply.
His fist relaxed.
The red aura snapped back into his body like a flame being smothered.
As soon as it vanished, Alessia withdrew her own power as well. The green light faded, leaving the hall eerily quiet.
She released his wrist.
The Armour guy took a step back, breathing hard. His eyes burned with resentment as he stared at her.
Then—slowly—his gaze shifted to Elias.
Not anger.
Something colder.
He scoffed quietly, giving Alessia a look filled with insult and pride.
"Tch."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, his boots echoing sharply against the stone as he disappeared down the corridor.
The tension broke.
Noise returned in pieces—chairs scraping, hushed conversations resuming, the dining hall slowly breathing again.
Alessia stood still for a moment longer, then turned toward Elias.
He was still frozen in place.
Head down.
Body stiff.
She studied him carefully.
Something about him felt… off.
Not fear.
Not shock.
Something deeper.
But she dismissed the thought.
Probably just a shaken Seeker on his first day.
She stepped closer.
"Elias," she said gently.
"Are you alright?"
When he didn't answer, she placed her hand on his shoulder.
The moment she touched him—
Elias snapped his head up.
His eyes widened.
His fist clenched.
His body reacted on instinct, arm pulling back—
Ready to strike.
Then he saw her face.
"Sister… Alessia."
His body went slack instantly. The tension drained out of him as if someone had cut invisible strings. His arm dropped. His shoulders slumped.
He blinked, confused, like he had just woken from a dream.
"I—I'm sorry," he said quickly, panic creeping back into his voice.
"It was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going. Please forgive him—he didn't do anything wrong."
Alessia frowned slightly.
That reaction…
Too fast.
Too sharp.
But she let it go.
"It's fine," she said after a moment.
"He had no right to act that way."
She looked him over once more.
"You sure you're not hurt?"
Elias forced a small smile.
"I'm okay. Really."
She nodded, then smiled warmly.
"Good. Then come," she said.
"Let's eat together."
Relief washed over Elias.
He nodded eagerly.
"Thank you… for protecting me."
They walked toward the food tables together, unaware of the many eyes still quietly watching them.
They sat at one of the long stone tables near the edge of the dining hall, where the noise softened into a low hum. Plates scraped, cups clinked, but the space around them felt strangely calm—like the storm had passed just a few steps away.
Elias sat stiff at first, hands resting on his knees, still trying to understand what had just happened. His heart had slowed, but his body felt tired in a way he had never known before.
Alessia placed a plate in front of him herself.
"Eat," she said gently.
"You look like you haven't breathed properly all day."
He blinked, surprised.
"Th-thank you, Sister."
She sat across from him, armor still on but loosened at the collar. The hard metal contrasted with the soft curve of her neck, the faint rise and fall of her chest as she exhaled—
those massive milk-heavy tits straining subtly against the loosened plates, faint damp spots blooming where purple bite-marked nipples.
Up close, she didn't feel intimidating at all. She felt… warm. Grounded.
They began eating in silence for a moment.
Elias finally spoke, voice small but sincere.
"I didn't think someone from the Wardens would help me like that."
She smiled faintly while chewing.
"Why not?"
"I thought Wardens were all…" he searched for the word, "…scary."
That made her laugh—low, genuine.
"We're not monsters," she said.
"Most of us are just tired people with too many battles behind us."
He looked at her with honest curiosity.
"How long… have you been a Warden?"
"Twelve years," she replied casually, taking a sip of water.
His eyes widened.
"T-twelve? That's… that's a long time."
"It is," she said. "Longer than I planned."
He hesitated, then asked, a little too innocently,
"Then… how old are you, Sister?"
She stopped chewing.
Slowly turned her head.
Gave him a sharp look.
"Didn't anyone teach you," she said coolly,
"that it's rude to ask a woman her age?"
Elias froze.
"I—I'm sorry! I didn't mean— I was just—"
Then she laughed again, this time brighter.
"I'm teasing," she said, waving it off.
"You're too honest to scold."
She leaned back slightly—*armor plates shifting to deepen cleavage shadow where sweat-glistened skin hinted at bruised tit-flesh begging rough kneading.*
"Thirty-eight."
He exhaled hard, relief flooding his face.
"Oh… thank the Holy Truth."
She raised an eyebrow.
"For what?"
"I thought I was about to die," he said earnestly.
That made her laugh even more.
They ate for a while, exchanging small words. Nothing heavy. Nothing dangerous. Just enough to make Elias feel… human again.
Then she asked softly,
"What about you?
Your family… where are you from?"
The question landed like a blade.
Elias's smile faded instantly.
His spoon stopped halfway to his mouth.
"I…"
"I—"
The words wouldn't come.
His chest tightened. His throat closed.
Alessia noticed immediately.
"Oh—" she said quickly, gentler now.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I didn't mean to—"
He stared at the table.
"…I'm an orphan."
Her expression stilled.
"I don't have a family," he continued quietly.
"I never did."
The noise of the dining hall felt far away now.
Alessia set her spoon down.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"I shouldn't have asked."
He shook his head.
"It's okay," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"I'm used to it."
He wasn't.
She could hear that.
To pull him away from the heaviness, she spoke again, lighter.
"You know," she said,
"Sister Elizabeth isn't as cold as she seems."
Elias blinked, surprised.
"Really?"
"She's strict because she cares," Alessia said.
"She loves the Holy Truth deeply. She protects Sancthorn in her own way."
Elias nodded slowly.
"I thought she just hated mistakes."
"She hates seeing people fall," Alessia corrected.
"She just doesn't know how to say it gently."
That made him smile again.
As they talked, Elias's eyes wandered without his permission.
Down.
Then back up.
He noticed her armor sat slightly open at the chest—revealing, enough. Enough to see skin marked faintly beneath. Small shadows. Discolored impressions.
They weren't scars.
They were… different.
His breath caught.
The darkness stirred.
"Look closely", it whispered. "Those aren't wounds from battle."
Teeth marks. Pressed skin. Someone claimed what you think is holy.
His fingers curled under the table.
"You still believe she's untouched?"
Doubt flickered through his mind—brief, sharp. Demon visions surged—pinning her massive leaking tits face-down on this table, yanking hips back to split sweat-slick ass crack wide and ram throbbing cock into puckered warrior hole while choking ponytail to force gagging milk-squirts onto his plate, stolen panties crammed in her whimpering mouth tasting her own creamy shame.
He dug his nails into his thigh.
No.
He wouldn't listen.
He forced his eyes away.
Alessia stood once they finished eating.
"You're a good boy," she said kindly.
"Too kind for this place, maybe."
She smiled warmly.
"Take care of yourself, Elias."
He stood as well.
"Thank you," he said honestly.
"For everything."
She turned and walked away, her steps confident, her presence strong.
Elias watched her go.
And from somewhere deep inside him, the darkness smiled.
Alessia's footsteps faded into the crowd, her armor catching the warm light of the dining hall as she moved. The plates, the voices, the prayers—all of it returned to normal.
But Elias didn't.
He stayed standing for a moment, eyes following her without realizing it.
The way she walked was steady, practiced, strong. Every step carried confidence, the kind that came from years of survival. Her back straight, shoulders firm—but there was still a softness in her movement. A quiet grace that didn't belong on a battlefield.
Juicy ass globes flexing powerfully under armor plates with each stride, hidden warrior thighs thick and meaty rubbing sweat-slick as they propel her forward, demon growling to chase her down the corridor, slam against stone wall and hoist one leg high to expose dripping mature cunt for merciless tongue-probing until thighs quake and nectar floods his chin.
The darkness stirred again.
"Look at her," it whispered. "Strength wrapped in flesh. Faith hiding desire."
Elias swallowed hard.
"No…" he murmured under his breath.
As she moved farther away, the light shifted, tracing the outline of her body beneath the armor. The curve of her waist. The controlled sway of her hips. The way her presence seemed to pull space toward her without effort.
His chest felt tight.
"She protects you," the voice continued smoothly. "But who protects her? Who touches her when the armor comes off?"
Elias clenched his jaw.
He turned his head away sharply.
Stop.
He told himself it was wrong. Disrespectful. She had helped him. She had stood between him and danger without hesitation.
But the images wouldn't fade.
The marks he had seen earlier replayed in his mind—faint, almost hidden. His thoughts twisted around them despite his resistance.
"Someone already knows her warmth," the darkness said. "Someone already tasted what you're told to worship."
His hands trembled slightly.
He pressed them against the table, grounding himself.
"I'm not like this," he whispered.
"I don't think like this."
Yet his body hadn't moved.
His eyes betrayed him, drifting back one last time—just in time to see Alessia disappear through the far doorway.
Something inside him tightened.
Not desire alone.
Not anger
Something darker.
Possessive.
Unfamiliar.
The darkness settled, satisfied—for now.
Elias finally exhaled and picked up his empty plate, forcing himself to walk away, unaware that something inside him had already crossed a line it could never uncross again.