Every town they passed through felt like a theater of lies to Katsuki, with him trapped as the unwilling lead. For the past week, it had been the same: crowds cheering, kneeling, and offering reverence as if he were some divine being sent to save them. Their words of praise wrapped around him like chains, each "blessing" he performed tightening the bindings. Their adoring eyes were suffocating, their worship as hollow as the blessings he had no real power to bestow.

This is what the High Priest had meant. Katsuki wasn't a savior, nor a holy figure. He was a tool, a figurehead propped up by the Temple to maintain their influence. He didn't command divine power—he was just a body moving through the motions, a puppet delivering nothing more than whispered hope to desperate people. Yet they flocked to him, clutching their faith with trembling hands, looking at him as if he were something more. Each town, each encounter, added to the weight pressing on his chest, the burden of their expectations smothering him.

When they stopped at a clearing between villages, the routine resumed. His maids hovered, tugging at his robes and smoothing his hair, though their touch felt distant, muted. Katsuki barely registered them. They must have noticed the sour twist of his expression because, for once, they worked in silence. He relished the quiet, the absence of their usual idle chatter, though he suspected they were treading carefully. Even they could sense his mood had curdled.

Akio fumbled with the ornaments pinned in his hair, her hands unsure and clumsy. Her tugging barely registered; Katsuki's focus was elsewhere. Through the tent's thin fabric, muffled voices carried—the same conversation that had repeated itself for days. Hana, ever composed, was deflecting yet another attempt from Izuku to see him.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but the Saintess is tired from his last blessing," Hana said, her tone calm yet firm. "He's asked that no one disturb him while he rests."

Katsuki's jaw tightened. Relief flickered faintly at Hana's intervention, but it was quickly eclipsed by something heavier. Frustration. Guilt. He wasn't sure which was worse—the thought of facing Izuku or the sound of him being turned away. Each time Izuku was rebuffed, the distance between them grew. Katsuki knew that chasm was his own doing, yet he clung to it like a lifeline. He wasn't ready to face the truths Izuku carried.

By the time they prepared to move on, Katsuki felt his exhaustion deepen. The routine was unbearable—every stop, every forced prayer, grinding him down piece by piece. He let his maids guide him toward his carriage, keeping his eyes downcast as he moved through the camp. But Izuku was waiting.

Katsuki saw him step forward, a flash of green in the corner of his vision. Desperation radiated off him, his presence cutting through the dull haze like a blade.

"Katsuki, please, talk to me," Izuku said, his voice raw and cracking under the weight of emotion.

Katsuki froze. His heart twisted painfully, but he forced himself to remain still, expression carefully neutral. His eyes flicked from Izuku to Hana, who moved instinctively to intervene.

"Leave us," Katsuki said, his voice cold and commanding.

"But Saintess—" Hana's protest wavered with concern, her gaze darting nervously between him and Izuku.

"Go," Katsuki snapped, sharp enough to leave no room for argument.

Hana hesitated for only a moment before bowing her head, ushering the other maids away with a sharp wave of her hand. Katsuki watched them retreat until only he and Izuku remained. The air between them felt heavy, charged.

"There's nothing to say, Izuku," Katsuki said flatly, keeping his tone even, though his pulse quickened.

Izuku took a step closer, his hands clenched at his sides. "I need to explain—"

"This isn't the time or place," Katsuki interrupted, his eyes darting toward Captain Verric, who lingered nearby, his gaze sharp and unreadable. The captain's scrutiny made his skin crawl. Katsuki's shoulders stiffened, his tone hardening. "Not here."

Izuku's jaw tightened, his composure slipping. For a brief moment, his pain was laid bare—his brow furrowed, his lips parted as if struggling to find the right words. His eyes, so full of conviction, locked onto Katsuki's.

"You can't avoid me forever," Izuku said quietly, the words landing like a challenge.

Katsuki held his ground, though his resolve wavered. His throat felt tight, his carefully constructed walls beginning to crack under the weight of Izuku's gaze. But he turned away, climbing into the carriage without another word.

The door shut with a dull thud, sealing him in. Katsuki exhaled shakily, his hands trembling as he pressed them into his lap. Izuku's words lingered, echoing in the quiet space.

Every stop felt the same. A parade of false reverence, an endless sea of unfamiliar faces and hollow blessings, all while Izuku's shadow loomed, his concern suffocating in its persistence.

The carriage jolted forward, its wheels creaking over uneven roads. Katsuki hated these rides. The cramped space, the way every bump jarred his body, the endless monotony of staring at the same four walls. But lately, this uncomfortable solitude had become his refuge. Here, at least, he could breathe, even if that breath felt thin and strained. Here, Izuku's pleas couldn't reach him.

And yet, Katsuki couldn't stop thinking of the way Izuku's voice had almost cracked. How his gaze had burned with unrelenting determination. How much it hurt to push him away.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. The carriage rattled on, carrying him toward another town, another farce, and another prayer he didn't believe in.

The mountain ranges loomed head, their jagged peaks tearing into the horizon like the teeth of some great beast. The air grew colder as the carriage ascended into harsher terrain, the barren landscape seeming to reflect the quiet turmoil churning within Katsuki. He stared out the window, but his thoughts lingered on Izuku, replaying their earlier exchange with a weight he couldn't shake.

He knew he couldn't avoid him forever. Izuku was relentless, a force Katsuki could never fully repel, no matter how much he tried. Each time Izuku pushed forward, Katsuki felt his carefully constructed wall groan under the strain. The pleading in Izuku's voice earlier had struck something deep inside him, left him rattled in ways he didn't want to admit.

'Why can't he just leave it alone?' The thought surfaced bitterly, though it dissolved almost as quickly as it formed. Deep down, Katsuki knew the answer. Izuku wouldn't leave it alone because he couldn't. And that truth was what terrified him most.

Katsuki pressed his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. The faint clatter of the carriage shells was uneven, a steady reminder of how far they'd traveled and how far they still had to go. How long could he keep this charade going? The weight of everything—his role, the people's expectations, Izuku's determination—was suffocating. Yet the thought of letting Izuku back in, of facing the truths waiting just beneath the surface, was worse. Their time was running out and they both knew it.

But while Katsuki wanted to let him go for his own preservation, Izuku only latched onto to their frayed tether all the more.

The carriage jolted violently, snapping him out of his thoughts. Katsuki's eyes flow open as the vehicle shuddered to a halt, the screech of wheels grinding against the uneven path cutting through the tense quiet. Shouts erupted outside, sharp and panicked. His heart jumped to his throat as he gripped the edge of the seat, bracing himself as the carriage rocked again, harder this time, as thought something massive had collided with it.

Through the chaos, Izuku's voice rang out, clear and commanding. "Stay inside, Saintess!"

Katsuki froze, his pulse hammering in his ears. His instincts screamed at him to listen, to stay where it was safe, but something primal and uneasy gnawed at the edges of his restraint. He leaned toward the window, drawn by the cacophony of roars, clashing steel, and the unmistakable sound of something large moving just beyond the carriage walls.

Then he saw it.

The grotesque face of an orc loomed inches from the glass, its bloodshot eyes filled with rage as it snarled, fogging the pane with its foul breath. The sight sent a bolt of fear through Katsuki's, his breath catching in his throat.

Before he could react, a flash of steel cut through the air. Izuku's blade cleaved cleaned through the orc's chest, ending the massive creature crumbling to the ground. Katsuki's relief was fleeting; the chaos beyond the window only grew louder. Knights clashed with hulking beasts, the air thick with the stench of blood and sweat. In the dimming light the silhouettes of combat were chaotic and wild.

Beside him Hana trembled clutching her hands tightly in her lap. Katsuki forced himself to speak, though his voice came out unsteady. "It's going to be alright, Hana." The words rang hollow even to his ears. He wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

The sounds of battle intensified, the carriage lurching slightly as the ground trembled beneath it. He clenched his fists, willing himself to stay put. 'Stay inside. Let them handle it.' That was the logical choice, the safe choice. But then he heard it.

A scream.

Aiko's scream cut through the chaos like a blade, high-pitched and terrified, sending a cold shock through his veins.

Katsuki was moving before he could think, his body reacting at her voice as it faded in the distance. He shoved the carriage door open and leapt into the fray, Hana's panicked cry chasing after him.

"Saintess!"

The cold air hit him like a slap, but he didn't stop. His eyes darted frantically through the massacre until they locked on a towering orc dragging Aiko away from the wreckage of another carriage. Her small frame flailed helplessly against the creatures iron grip, her cries twisting something deep inside Katsuki.

His gaze snapped to a fallen sword nearby, its blade protruding from the corpse of a Knight Katsuki had seen laughing only a few hours ago with his comrades. The bile raised in his mouth at the thought, but Katsuki didn't have time to hesitate as he grasped the hilt, yanking it free with a wet, sickening sound that churned at his stomach.

The weight of the weapon felt foreign and clumsy in his hands, but he didn't let go as he rushed after the massive orc.

"Let her go!" Katsuki's voice cracked as he charged forward, desperation driving him.

The orc turned, its beady eyes narrowing as it sized him up. Katsuki could see its surprise, its disdain, as though it didn't even register him as a threat. That didn't matter. He gripped the hilt tightly and swung with every ounce for strength he had.

The blade struck true, caving a brutal slash across the orc's chest. It roared in pain, staggering back and released Aiko, who crumpled to the ground. Katsuki surged forward, ramming the ladle into its gut with a force that shook his arms. Blood gushed from the wound, hot and sticky as it coated his hands.

He pulled back his breaths ragged, adrenaline coursing through him. "Aiko, are you hurt?"

She scrambled to his side, trembling as she clung to his arm. "Saintess—"

A roar cut her off, and Katsuki barely had time to react as the orc stood back up. His face twisted in rage as blood pooled around him from his open wound. 'How?' Katsuki pushed Aiko behind him, his grip tightening on the bloodied blade.

"Stay back!" His voice wavered, but he stood his ground.

The orc swung a passive arm, and Katsuki barely dodged, stumbling as he tried to keep Aiko close against his back. He tried to counter, his strikes frantic and untrained, each swing more desperate than the last but it was enough to keep a distance between them and the crazed orc.

The strain burned his arms, and the weight of the sword dragged with every motion. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer.

The orc sneered, sensing his exhaustion. With a quick swipe it knocked the balde for his hands, sending it skidding across the dirt. Katsuki's stomach sank, panic pawing at his mind as he shoved Aiko back again.

The orc loomed over him, its grotesque face twisting into a cruel grin as it raised its arm to strike. Katsuki braced himself, Aiko trembling ands clutching at his robe as his mind raced. But before the blow could land, the creature froze.

Its eyes widened in shock, and a sharp gasp escaped its lips as blood dribbled down his chin, a sword pierced cleanly through its chest from behind.

In an instant, the orc collapsed at Katsuki's feet, revealing Izuku behind it, bloodied bust steady, his sword gleaming in the dim light.

"Izuku…" Katsuki breathed his heart still racing.

Izuku stepped closer, his face grim as his eyes scanned Katsuki and Aiko for injuries. "Are you out of your mid?" He demanded, his voice sharp with anger and something deeper—fear. "What were you thinking, putting yourself in danger like that?"

Still riding the rush of adrenaline, Katsuki's voice rose, sharp and defensive. "Aiko was being taken! I couldn't just sit there and do nothing!"

Izuku stepped closer, his jaw tightening as he glared down at Katsuki. "And what if you'd been killed? What then?" His voice cracked, though his frustration burned hotter than his fear. "You're supposed to stay safe. How am I supposed to protect you if you keep throwing yourself into danger?"

Katsuki's breath hitched, but he didn't back down, even as his heart pounded. "She needed help. I'm not just going to sit in a carriage and watch while people die!"

The space between them felt impossibly close, their heated standoff crackling like an open flame. Katsuki's eyes refused to yield, though the weight of Izuku's words pressed against the edges of his resolve. Around them, the battle's chaos was ebbing, the last of the orcs retreating into the forest, leaving behind silence broken only by the groans of the injured and the crackle of dying fires. But the tension between them remained razor-sharp, unresolved.

"Saintess!" Captain Verric's low, authoritative voice broke through the charged air. Katsuki turned to see him striding forward, his expression grim, his armor bloodied and dented from the fight. His gaze flicked briefly to Izuku, then back to Katsuki. "Are you alright?"

Before Katsuki could answer, Izuku interjected, his voice clipped and restrained. "He's fine."

Katsuki shot Izuku a sharp glare, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he said nothing. Verric's presence was heavy, his posture stiff as his eyes scanned the scene—Izuku's bloodied form, Aiko clinging to Katsuki's arm, and the scattered remains of battle. Whatever thoughts he had about the Saintess's recklessness remained unspoken, but the faint tightening of his jaw said enough.

Hana rushed to Katsuki's side, her face pale, her steps hurried. "Saintess, that was reckless!" she exclaimed, her hands fluttering nervously as she inspected him for injuries. "You could have been killed!" Her trembling fingers brushed at the blood on his robes, though she froze when she realized it wasn't his.

"I'm fine, Hana," Katsuki muttered, his voice softer now, though his heart still raced in his chest. He looked down at Aiko, who was sobbing quietly as she clung to him, her small body trembling. "Let's get Aiko cleaned up and back to the carriage."

"Oh, you poor dear," Hana cooed, reaching out to guide Aiko away, though the girl refused to release her grip on Katsuki. Her quiet sobs were muffled against his robes, and Katsuki gently stroked her hair, his voice low and steady. "It's alright. You're safe now."

But even as Hana fussed and led them back, Katsuki could feel Izuku's gaze burning into his back. The tension rolled off him in waves, thick and heavy, like a storm brewing on the horizon. Katsuki didn't have to look to know that this wasn't over. Izuku would confront him again, and soon. But for now, they were alive. That was all that mattered.

Captain Verric wasted no time issuing orders. "Get the injured seen to. We move within the hour," he barked to the remaining knights, his tone brooking no argument. His men moved reluctantly, their faces grim and tired, though a few shot furtive glances in Katsuki's direction. Their resentment was palpable, simmering beneath the surface like an unspoken accusation.

By the time they resumed their journey, the temperature had dropped sharply. Hana wrapped Katsuki in their thickest blanket, but the chill seeped through the wool, biting against his skin. The mountain terrain had grown harsher, the roads uneven and winding. The occasional gust of wind rattled the carriage, and Katsuki could see his breath fogging in the cold air. Izuku's horse rode close beside the carriage, his steady presence an unwanted reminder of their earlier argument. Katsuki kept his gaze fixed out the opposite window, unwilling to meet Izuku's eyes.

When the carriage finally stopped for the night, Izuku's voice came from just outside the window. "We're stopping here," he called, his tone unreadable.

Hana muttered her displeasure as she searched for another blanket. "I should speak to Captain Verric about these conditions. They can't expect you to sleep out here in this cold."

"It's fine, Hana," Katsuki reassured her, though his voice carried little conviction. His gaze flicked toward the frosty air beyond the carriage. "The winters back home were harsher than this. I'll manage."

Hana pursed her lips but didn't argue. "The Temple is always kept warm for you. Not a single firestone has been offered to ease your comfort out here." Her tone was clipped, her disapproval evident.

It was true enough. Verric and his knights had made it clear from the beginning that their mission was to deliver Katsuki to the king in one piece—nothing more, nothing less. Comfort was not their concern. They had always been coldly efficient, but now, after the orc attack, their attitude toward Katsuki had curdled further. He'd seen the way their eyes lingered on him during the battle's aftermath, the weight of unspoken blame thick in their stares.

As they stepped outside, the night air bit sharply at Katsuki's exposed skin. The knights moved briskly, setting up tents and building fires that flickered weakly against the chill. Hana managed to find a few of Katsuki's fur pelts, draping them around his shoulders as he stood by the camp. The sky was clear, the stars sharp and bright against the black canvas of the night, though the looming peaks of the mountains swallowed parts of the horizon.

Katsuki scanned the camp as Hana went to fetch their dinner from the cook. The firelight cast jagged shadows across the rocky ground, the faint glow outlining the knights as they murmured among themselves.

The camp was restless, the tension of the earlier battle lingering like smoke. The firelight flickered weakly against the jagged terrain, casting uneven shadows across the knights, their forms hunched and weary. Katsuki sat stiffly, his fists clenched beneath the folds of his robes, his gaze fixed on the dark outline of the mountains. But his ears were sharp, catching the low murmur of voices from the nearby fire.

It started as a quiet exchange, a shared bitterness among the knights as they sat clustered together, nursing wounds and sharpening blades. Katsuki tried to ignore them, but their voices carried, harsh and biting, cutting through the cold night air.

"Can't believe we lost Garrick and Ewan for this," one knight muttered, his voice low but sharp with anger. "Two good men gone, and for what? A glorified heir for the king?"

"Those priests don't give one damn about us."Bryn added with a derisive snort. He jabbed the fire with a stick, stirring the embers. "We could have already been home if the King hadn't given in to their demands. Now we're stuck parading their cash cow around the continent to spread their own agenda."

The fire cracked as their bitter chuckles, the sound grating in Katsuki's ears. His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay still, his blood simmering as he listened.

"You'd think the Protector would at least have a leash on him," Bryn added, glancing over his shoulder toward Izuku, who stood a few paces away. His voice dripped with mockery. "Some guard dog he turned out to be. Can't even keep his Saintess out of trouble."

"Maybe he likes the trouble," Gareth said, his grin widening. His voice dropped, low and biting, clearly meant to provoke. "Or maybe it's not the Saintess he's protecting so much as his meal ticket. Gotta make sure he stays in good graces, yeah? Keep his holy treasure nice and safe for the King's bed."

"Almost feel bad for the Saintess," Gareth said, his scar twisting in the firelight as his smirk deepened. "Must be hard, knowing your only value's in spreading your legs for the crown."

That did it. Katsuki stood abruptly, the force of his anger enough to send his fur pelts slipping to the ground. He strode toward the fire, his face shadowed but his golden eyes blazing with fury. The knights turned toward him, their laughter faltering for only a moment before Gareth's grin returned.

"Well, well. Look who's decided to join us," Gareth drawled, leaning forward slightly, his tone smug. "Something wrong, Saintess?"

"You better watch your mouth," Katsuki snapped, his voice low and venomous. His words cut like steel, the smooth politeness he usually maintained completely stripped away. "If you've got a problem with me, say it to my face. Or are you too much of a coward to do that without your friends around to back you up?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Gareth's face before his smirk returned. "Touchy, aren't we? Don't get your robes in a twist. I'm just saying what we're all thinking. You're nothing but a—"

"Finish that sentence," Katsuki interrupted, his voice sharp as a blade. His hands curled into fists at his sides. "Go on. Let's hear it."

Gareth chuckled darkly, rising from his seat. The other knights shifted, their gazes darting between Katsuki and Gareth, tension rippling through the air. "Alright," Gareth said, taking a step closer. "You're nothing but a glorified whore. A prize broodmare to keep warm and fed until you can spit out the king's next heir."

That was as far as Gareth got.

Izuku was there in an instant as his fist connected with Gareth's jaw, the sickening crunch echoing across the camp as Gareth stumbled back, clutching his face.

"You don't talk about him like that," Izuku growled, his voice low and dangerous. He stepped forward, his shoulders squared, his presence like a storm bearing down. "Not him. Not in front of me."

But not Gareth.

Gareth straightened, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. His grin twisted into something darker, more malicious. "Oh, you're gonna regret that, Protector."

For a moment, the camp seemed to hold its breath. And then it erupted.

Bryn lunged first, his fist aimed for Izuku's ribs. Izuku blocked it effortlessly, countering with a sharp elbow to Bryn's jaw that sent him reeling. But the other knights didn't wait. Two more charged forward, their movements wild and uncoordinated, but overwhelming in their numbers. Izuku fought back with precision, his strikes quick and brutal, but the sheer force of three against one was relentless.

"Stop it!" Katsuki shouted, rushing forward, his fury spilling over as he tried to intervene. "Get off him, you bastards!"

One of the knights watching shoved him back roughly, sending him stumbling. Hana and Aiko were there immediately, their hands gripping his arms as they tried to hold him back.

"Saintess, please!" Hana's voice was high and frantic. "You'll get hurt—please stay back!"

"Let me go!" Katsuki snarled, twisting against their grip, but Hana's hands clung tightly to his arm, trembling. Aiko's small frame blocked his path, her wide, tear-filled eyes silently begging him to stop. He froze, his chest heaving. He wanted to shove past them—needed to—but their fear, their desperation, rooted him in place. His fists clenched at his sides, trembling with fury.

"Katsuki!" Izuku's voice cut through the chaos. He blocked another punch, slamming his shoulder into one knight's chest and sending him sprawling. "Stay out of this!" His tone was firm, desperate. "Don't get involved—just stay back!"

But Katsuki's chest burned as he watched the fight continue. Izuku was fast, precise, and skilled, but the knights' relentless attacks were wearing him down. Blood dripped from his split lip, his breath coming in short gasps as Gareth landed a brutal punch to his ribs, sending him staggering.

"Enough."

Captain Verric's voice cut through the chaos like a whip. The knights froze, their breathing heavy, their knuckles bloody. Izuku swayed but remained standing, his eyes blazing even as blood dripped from his temple.

"Drag him away," Verric ordered, his tone cold and detached.

Two knights grabbed Izuku by the arms, yanking him roughly to his feet. Katsuki surged forward, his voice sharp and trembling with fury. "Let him go! It wasn't his fault—they started it! He was defending me!"

Verric turned his cold gaze on Katsuki, his tone measured but filled with venomous condescension. "That's not how I saw it, Saintess. Your Protector threw the first punch. He'll answer for it."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Katsuki shouted, his hands trembling at his sides. "You're doing this on purpose!"

Verric's silence was damning, his expression unchanging as he gestured for the knights to move. "Back to your tent, Saintess," Verric said coolly. "Unless you want to make things worse for him."

Katsuki stood frozen, his fists trembling as he watched them drag Izuku away, blood staining the dirt in his wake.