The Wandering Samurai and his Beloved General (BL)

The winds swirled around the branch they stood on, carrying a rush of excitement. Though careful not to disturb them, the winds whispered as if to say, "Hey, we're excited too, but maybe check out the time and place~"—all while carrying the distant clash of swords echoing in the background.

The noise instantly shattered the fragile bubble that had unknowingly formed around Lanling and Haruki.

Lanling was the first to move, stepping back to glance toward the source of the sound. It seemed the battalion had reached the swamp and was now locked in combat with the horde of crocodiles.

Flashes of vibrant, colorful light flickered in the distance, their brilliance struggling to pierce through the clinging fog. It was especially blinding in the night.

Lanling sighed, a mix of disappointment and relief.

"The battalion has arrived. Would you go assist the mages for me?" he asked calmly, tilting his head to look back at Haruki.

Haruki had already followed Lanling's gaze, his lips pursed in thought. His eyes brimmed with unspoken grievances, a look that almost made Lanling chuckle—but he stopped himself.

"Sure, but damn, they're such a pest. The crocodiles seem cuter," Haruki muttered, his cheeks puffing slightly as if he might pout. Yet when he turned back to Lanling, his gaze suddenly burned with intensity.

Lanling's heart skipped a beat, his mind blanking as he wondered what on earth Haruki was thinking.

Before he could react, Haruki's rough hands cupped the back of his neck, and in an instant, Haruki's face filled his entire vision.

There had been plenty of chances to dodge, yet Lanling's arms seemed to lose all strength, his heart betraying him with eager anticipation.

Haruki's lips brushed against his, a soft lick and a teasing suck that left a quiet chu as they parted. Lanling stared, wide-eyed, as Haruki grinned in delight, savoring the stolen taste with the tip of his tongue.

"I'll be back for the rest later," Haruki vowed, his grin widening.

Laughing loudly, he leapt off the branch and let the wind carry him toward the battlefield. He soared away as if flying were the most natural thing in the world.

"Urgh, he's still the same...!"

Lanling stood frozen, processing what had just happened. His right hand instinctively covered his mouth as a flush crept over his cheeks and ears. A few seconds later, a soft chuckle escaped him, realizing that Haruki had been so thrilled by his own audacity that he'd simply flown off.

"So that's the kind of stimulus you need to fly..." Lanling murmured, shaking his head helplessly. Yet, despite himself, an indulgent smile curved his lips. "That brat...!"

For a moment, he felt himself slipping back into the person he used to be. But with a short sigh, that impenetrable calmness returned to his face. He focused on the battle ahead.

Meanwhile, Haruki only realized he was flying when he landed next to Verdan and found his companion rooted to the spot, eyes bulging.

"When did you learn to fly?!" Verdan's scream was nearly drowned out by the explosion of spells nearby.

"U-Uh, just now?"

"Damn! You weren't kidding about mastering it!"

"Of course! I've got a general to protect."

Haruki's voice didn't waver, though his mouth curved slightly, betraying his attempt to suppress a silly smile.

"Tsk, you love-struck fool! Stop spreading diabetes and come help us deal with that woman!"

Verdan rolled his eyes with exaggerated drama, pointing toward the back of the enemy lines. An ethereal dome stood firm, blocking all incoming projectiles and crocodiles. The Black Pythons were using it as a fallback point, darting out to wreak havoc before retreating to rest and heal.

The crocodiles had no way to breach the barrier, and everyone perched atop the branches remained cautiously hidden, watching and strategizing on how to break it.

The woman Verdan had pointed at was strikingly beautiful. Her blonde, wavy hair framed a face with pale green eyes and slightly pointed ears. She had an unmistakable presence, standing out even amidst the chaos of bodies, spells, and clashing swords.

In her right hand, she held an elegant staff with coiled branches forming its shaft and a large white pearl crowning its top.

Haruki winced as a splitting headache surged through his skull.

The familiar pain struck with such intensity that he immediately knew—this woman and that staff were remnants of his past. Desperate to regain control, he emptied his mind, clinging to the memory of the kiss earlier as a distraction.

Though his actions were swift, and the pain faded after a few seconds, it left behind fragments of unwelcome knowledge.

Her name was Akiko, and the staff she wielded was the Staff of Sanctuary. As long as she kept pouring mana into it, the barrier would remain impenetrable.

Haruki shook his head to clear his thoughts and readied himself. Without a word, he turned to Verdan, taking care to avoid letting that woman enter his sights.

"Verver, spread the word—it's the Staff of Sanctuary. Don't bother waiting for her mana to run out; she can sustain this for three days without needing a single mana potion."

Haruki's tone was casual, but his face had adopted a grim seriousness.

"What? How do you—" Verdan began, but then shook his head. "Oh, never mind, that's not important. Alright, send me to that branch."

Quickly reminding himself of his priorities, Verdan swallowed his curiosity. With Haruki's wind assisting him, he moved effortlessly from branch to branch, finally landing beside a soldier whose mouth was sewn shut.

Haruki watched as Verdan relayed the information. The soldier briefly responded by holding up three fingers, and a ghostly, deep masculine voice echoed in Haruki's mind.

"Blonde woman. Staff of Sanctuary. Mana pool is of King-level."

No matter how many times it happened, Haruki couldn't help but marvel at the soldier's ability to transmit thoughts through mass telepathy. It was an extraordinary gift—and incredibly useful, even if it was limited to just five uses a day.