While the Seat Was Empty, Grahn and Ceres
“Zarco!”
Dain flung the tent flap aside and stormed inside. Gardan and Zarco were seated at the table, a map spread between them.
“D-Dain? What’s the matter?”
Gardan’s eyes widened. The fury—almost murderous intent—on Dain’s face made him instinctively step in front of the Hero to shield him.
“Please move aside, Commander.”
“Calm down first. Tell me what this is about—”
“It’s all right, Commander.”
Gardan glanced back in surprise, but Zarco merely smiled with his usual ease and remained seated.
“We have something to discuss. The rest can wait.”
“Ah, yes. Hero. Then…”
Gardan left the tent, but his worried gaze lingered on Dain until the flap fell shut.
“You. That outfit… what the hell is it?”
“Hm?”
“I said, what the fuck is Ceres wearing? That was your doing, wasn’t it?”
“Ah, so it’s about Ceres.”
Zarco leaned back against the armrest and scratched his eye.
“I thought you’d understand on your own. Guess I should’ve explained.”
“Explain.”
“You’ve already seen how the Authority works, haven’t you?”
Zarco’s hand rose into the air and closed around something invisible.
“The more I touch Ceres’s skin, the stronger my power becomes. It was strange before. The only place I could touch was her thigh.”
The memory of the fight with Marus flashed through Dain’s mind—his own mistake, groping Ceres’s chest in front of the soldiers. His brow furrowed.
“…Did you get Ceres’s consent?”
“Of course, Dain.”
The Hero leaned across the table. The leering smile on his face made Dain’s stomach turn.
“Fortunately, Ceres understood. Maybe it’s because we’re the Hero and the Saintess? We’ve grown quite close.”
“…”
The meaning was unmistakable: there was no place left for Dain.
“I understand your concern, Dain. I don’t want to dress a precious friend like that either.”
Zarco looked up at him with a deeply furrowed brow—an expression so exaggerated it was clearly an act.
“But what can we do when the Authority works this way? Until we defeat the Demon King, we’ll just have to endure a little longer. Don’t you agree?”
Dain exhaled sharply through his nose, looking ready to lunge, but he took a deep breath instead and stared at Zarco in silence.
“…Keep it reasonable. This is the last time.”
“Haha.”
Zarco slammed the table and laughed. The friend Dain had once known—the one from the village, the one he’d grown close to during their journey—was gone.
“I hope you can endure until we catch the Demon King.”
Dain didn’t bother replying. He kicked the tent flap open and left.
He had to find Ceres. That expression on her face—it was absolutely not something she had wanted. Just as he turned toward the barracks, Gardan stepped in his path.
“Dain.”
“…Commander.”
“Have you calmed down? What happened…?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I was wondering… since you’re old friends from the same village, a little quarrel is only natural.”
“May I go now?”
“Ah, wait! Just a moment.”
Gardan grabbed Dain’s shoulder and stopped him.
“I spoke with the Hero earlier. He asked me to assign you to border patrol.”
“…Inward, you mean.”
“Of course, the final decision is yours. If it feels dangerous, you can turn back immediately.”
“…Haa.”
At Dain’s sigh, Gardan hesitated before continuing.
“If nothing happens, we plan to depart soon. I’ve already selected the personnel…”
“Right now?”
“I’m sorry. You told me to speak up whenever I needed something, so I may have taken it too much for granted.”
Dain wanted nothing more than to run to Ceres. There were so many things he needed to say. While he stood there, unable to speak, five soldiers Gardan had gathered approached them.
“Commander? Should we keep waiting?”
The soldiers, already equipped, looked at Dain and Gardan.
“…Damn it.”
In the end, Dain left the outpost without seeing Ceres, leading the five soldiers. They halted at the edge of the forest, where the trees grew darker.
“Right. This is the Demon King’s domain now.”
When he looked back, the soldiers’ faces were resolute. They had fully embraced the duty they carried for humanity. The only one who couldn’t steady his heart was Dain, still thinking of Ceres.
“…I’m sorry…”
The apology slipped out before he realized it. The soldiers stared at him in confusion. Dain slapped his own cheek hard.
“W-Why did you do that?”
“It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
He couldn’t forget Ceres. But he forced the immediate goal to cover her in his mind. The situation was hopelessly tangled, yet he would untangle everything once he returned. Until then, he was responsible for these soldiers’ lives. He swore to focus only on the mission.
Two days passed. Fortunately, they encountered no demons, though they fought monsters several times. The battles weren’t severe, but everyone was battered. Sleeping in the mountains and eating jerky, Dain—the most skilled fighter—found it harder to endure than the soldiers when there was no fighting.
“I’m sorry. You must have been very uncomfortable.”
“No, not at all. Without you, Warrior, we wouldn’t have survived the monster fights.”
“Still, we’re all returning in one piece. Mission accomplished, haha.”
Dain was deeply grateful for the soldiers’ easy laughter. In just two days, he had grown fond of them.
When they finally reached the outpost entrance, his knees nearly gave out. Supporting one another, the group barely made it inside.
After sending the injured to the infirmary, Dain went straight to Gardan and began his report. Monster locations, distant sightings of the Demon King’s forces, estimated positions of demons—the map of the surrounding area grew more detailed, and Gardan smiled with satisfaction.
“Understood. You did well, Dain. Rest well today.”
“Where is Ceres?”
The moment the report ended, Dain asked about Ceres. The feelings he had held back for two days threatened to overflow.
“The Saintess? She’s probably in her room. I’m not sure myself…”
Dain turned before Gardan finished speaking.
He returned to the barracks, but Ceres’s room was empty. It wasn’t yet time for dinner or sleep. Where had she gone? Dain unpacked his things and left the barracks to search for her.
Ceres was nowhere to be seen. The excitement in his chest cooled, then turned into melancholy.
I want to see you soon. There’s so much I want to say.
Yet among the soldiers passing by, there was no sign of her.
Perhaps to shake off the emptiness, Dain thought of Grahn. He needed the half-dwarf’s hearty laughter. Following Grahn’s request for a quiet workspace, Dain headed toward the smithy built a short distance away.
“Grahn?”
But Grahn wasn’t there either. The forge was still lit, so he must have stepped out briefly. Dain considered waiting and began looking around at the tools and weapons. As he passed the storage shed behind the smithy—
“…Haa, haa…!”
It was faint, but unmistakably a moan. Someone inside the shed was making that sound. Dain’s movements grew cautious. His heart pounded. He climbed onto a crate and peered through the ventilation gap—
Then he jerked back, startled by the sight inside.
A naked Grahn was thrusting between the hips of a woman whose face was hidden.
“Ugh! Hng!”
The sound of flesh slapping grew louder, along with the moans.
Curiosity won out. Who was it? The peepholes at the inn had left Dain with strange fetishes, but—
Still, it was Grahn. The only person in the outpost who truly understood him.
Guilt pushed back against curiosity and arousal. Dain quietly slipped out of the smithy before they noticed him.
Once outside, he found himself wondering again who the woman was. There weren’t many women at the outpost, though new arrivals came daily—seamstresses, healers, the mages Lilias had brought.
Which one was it?
“Hngh, hng…!”
“Haa, haa… Ceres, Ceres…!”
Behind Ceres, who lay prone with her massive hips exposed, Grahn’s thick shaft slid in and out between her thighs.
“Haang! Grahn… the sound…!”
“It’s fine. This place is secluded… no one will come. Even if you make noise, hngh! It’s okay!”
As if to prove it, Grahn drove deeper into Ceres. The Saintess’s lower belly bulged slightly from the sheer girth filling her.
“Ahn! G-Grahn…!”
“I told you it’s fine, khaha… This belly, this pussy… I can finish inside today, right, Ceres?”
“Ugh… saying that again… hng! Hngh!”
The blacksmith, back arched, wrapped his arms around Ceres’s waist. His muscular arms were as thick as her thighs. Between them, his massive shaft slowly withdrew from behind her hips, glistening with her fluids, ready to burst.
“Ugh… hng~…”
Even as it pulled out, the enormous thing drew another moan from the Saintess. It throbbed, waiting for its owner to thrust again.
“I’m coming, Ceres… hng!”
“Hiii!”
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
The huge shaft began ravaging Ceres’s entrance without mercy. Her large, soft hips rippled violently with each powerful thrust.
“Ah! Ah! Haaang!”
“Ceres! Ceres!”
Ceres’s entire body shook as she took Grahn in. Her hips, belly, and breasts bounced. Unaware of being watched, her face flushed deep red, she moaned with an unfamiliar expression. The sounds of flesh and moans filled the shed.
“Ceres! I’m coming!”
“Hngh…!”
Grahn slammed his hips against the Saintess’s rear and stopped moving. His balls twitched, and Ceres’s belly began to tremble irregularly as she hung her head.
“Hng! Ugh… hng!”
“…Haa… haa.”
With a wet sound, the spent shaft slipped out from between her hips. A thick strand of fluid hung from the tip, followed by a slow trickle of white from the Saintess’s entrance.
“That was good, Ceres.”
“…”
It wasn’t resentment toward the blacksmith. She bore some responsibility for creating this situation.
She only felt hollow at the thought of losing the one friend she could speak openly with.
But Grahn seemed to prefer their current relationship.
Zarco…
What am I to you?
What do you gain from this?
She feared that once she was completely in the Hero’s grasp, she wouldn’t even be able to resent him anymore.
Dain should have been the Hero.