Luna's POV
I woke up early today—too early. My hair was a mess, my eyes had dark circles, and I didn't even bother taking a bath. Why? Because I had a mission.
I was spying on someone.
Cassian.
The new Exorcist.
He arrived just three days ago, yet somehow, he's already racked up more cursed cores than a newbie in a week. Rumors spread fast inside the cathedral—some said he was a former mercenary, others claimed he was blessed by a minor deity. One person even said he made a deal with a demon.
But me? I think he's just suspicious. Very, very suspicious.
Not that I was curious about him or anything. Of course not. That would be ridiculous.
...Okay, maybe a little curious.
I crouched behind the hallway pillar, peeking just in time to see him step out of his room. He looked fine , cleaned and nicely dressed in his robe. No holy aura, no divine spark. Just a guy with a sword on his back.
He walked toward the cafeteria with a sluggish pace. I followed at a safe distance, careful not to draw attention. When he entered, I waited ten seconds before slipping in behind him.
He sat alone at a corner table, eating… pizza?
Who eats pizza for breakfast?
Whatever. I grabbed two slices too—purely for blending in. Totally not because it looked good.
I kept my eyes on him while pretending to casually nibble my food. He was oddly focused. Then, for a second, he paused, hand hovering over his plate. My heart skipped. Did he see me?
But no—he was just deciding which slice to eat first.
Huu… I let out a deep breath. Close call.
I needed to see with my own eyes what made him different. What made him dangerous.
After breakfast, I watched him exit the cafeteria. I followed, careful to keep my distance. He was heading into the forest—the corrupted forest
I climbed up a low hill, hiding behind a thick tree, and watched.
He unsheathed his sword and began to swing. Not sloppily—his form was refined, deliberate, practiced. But something felt off.
How was he going to chant magic while moving like that?
And then… he didn't chant at all.
A faint golden light shimmered around his blade, and with one swift motion, he cut through two approaching undead—cleanly.
I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle a gasp.
He… infused magic into the sword itself. Not just any magic—holy magic. That was supposed to be impossible unless you were a Paladin or Sword Priest, not a regular Exorcist… and definitely not a healer-type like him.
Was this why he earned so many cores?
I crouched lower and watched for another hour.
He fought nonstop, never breaking rhythm. Zombies, ghouls, bonewalkers—they all fell before him. No hesitation. No wasted movement. Each attack blended swordsmanship and magic in perfect sync.
At one point, a group of six surrounded him. He didn't panic. Instead, he lifted his hand and cast Area Heal.
The wave of radiant light surged outward, and the undead screamed.
Not in relief.
In pain.
They staggered back, some collapsing outright. A healing spell that damaged undead?
Why… why didn't the Church teach us this?
Why didn't anyone tell us this was possible?
I watched in stunned silence as he continued. Thirty-two. That's how many undead he killed in under an hour. And now, as casually as ever, he sat down beneath a tree, munching on a small piece of cake like this was all a picnic.
I frowned. This wasn't just impressive—it was terrifying. If he could do this on his own, without backup, what else was he capable of?
Rustle.
Crap.
I stepped on a dry leaf.
Cassian's eyes immediately snapped in my direction. He stood up slowly, scanning the forest.
And then—our eyes met.
"What the fuck—"
Cassian's startled voice broke the quiet, echoing slightly in the thick forest.
I froze.
His green eyes locked onto mine, half-covered behind the robe I wore in a poor attempt to conceal myself. His hand instinctively reached for his sword, the blade now resting beside the remains of a half-eaten choco lava cake.
"…Luna?" he said, his voice laced with confusion and a hint of suspicion. "Are you… stalking me?"
I felt my cheeks heat up, but I forced myself to stay composed. "No," I lied, crossing my arms and stepping out from the bushes like I hadn't just been spying on him for the past hour. "I was... just passing by."
Cassian arched a brow. "In an undead-infested forest? Without a weapon? Right after you tailed me from the cafeteria?"
"I wasn't tailing you," I snapped, then immediately bit my tongue. He smirked. That annoying, smug smirk like he already knew the truth.
I took a breath and tried again, this time lowering my tone. "I just… I had questions, alright? After what I saw yesterday, I couldn't just ignore it."
Cassian picked up his sword and slid it back into its sheath, standing to his full height. He wasn't much taller than me, but the way he carried himself—relaxed, confident—made him feel larger than life.
"So you decided to spy on me like some shady back-alley informant instead of just asking?" he said casually, brushing crumbs off his robe.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Damn it, he had a point.
"I did ask you yesterday," I muttered under my breath, "but you just walked away like some mysterious protagonist from a cheap novel."
He paused, blinking at me, then laughed. "Wow. Did you just say cheap novel?"
"I did."
"Now you're just being hurtful."
I rolled my eyes. "Look, I saw you fight. I saw you infuse purification magic into your sword. That's not something healers can normally do. It's not something we were ever taught to do. Where did you learn that? Is it some secret technique the Church is hiding?"
Cassian looked at me for a long moment. Then he sat back down under the tree and casually picked up what remained of his cake.
He took a bite, chewed slowly, then said, "It's not a secret technique. I just… figured it out."
"You figured it out?" I repeated, incredulous. "By yourself?"
"Yeah. I mean, you can chant a spell and swing a sword, right? Why not do them at the same time?"
I blinked. "Because it takes two completely different types of control. Mana flow through a blade isn't the same as directing it outward for healing. And besides, we were always taught that purification magic burns out the mana channels in most metal weapons."
Cassian stared at his blade for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe your weapons are just trash."
I felt a vein pop in my forehead. "Are you calling my staff trash?"
He gave me a lazy smile. "Only if it can't handle a little divine magic."
This guy…
No, this idiot was seriously frustrating. But… also kind of impressive.
I'd watched him for over an hour now. He didn't hesitate. He didn't overthink. He moved. And that was something I had always struggled with. In the academy, they taught us to prepare, analyze, plan. But in battle, things rarely went according to plan. Cassian wasn't just strong—he was adaptive.
And that made me uneasy.
"You used 'Area Heal' to kill undead," I said slowly. "That shouldn't be possible."
"Why not?" he replied. "They're corpses. Healing them is like forcing mana into a rotting tree—it explodes."
I frowned. "That… actually makes sense."
He gave me a teasing look. "Are you complimenting me now?"
"Don't push your luck."
There was a brief silence between us. Birds chirped faintly in the background, and somewhere far off, a guttural groan of another undead echoed, then faded.
Cassian stood again, brushing his pants. "So… are you satisfied now, Miss Investigator? Or do you need to take more creepy notes?"
I clicked my tongue. "You're impossible."
"I get that a lot."
We started walking back toward the main trail, side by side, though I made sure to keep a healthy distance between us. Not because I didn't trust him—but because I didn't trust myself. Being near him felt oddly disarming. And that made me uncomfortable.
"So why do you even care?" he suddenly asked.
"Huh?"
"You said you weren't curious about me," he said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. "But you've been watching me since morning. Did someone ask you to watch me? Or are you just that nosy?"
I didn't answer right away.
The truth was… no one asked me. I was just curious after yesterday . His first day as an Exorcist, and he'd already earned almost the amount that most do in a week. It was absurd.
But part of me just… couldn't look away.
Cassian was different.
Not just in strength, but in aura. He didn't reek of faith like the fanatics in the Church. He didn't act righteous. And yet, he did his work with quiet conviction, killing the undead not for praise or doctrine—but just because it needed to be done.
"I don't know," I finally admitted. "Maybe I am nosy. Or maybe I just wanted to see what kind of person you really are."
He looked surprised by my honesty. Then… he smiled. Not the teasing smirk. A real smile.
"…That's fair," he said softly.
We walked in silence for a while. And for the first time in a long time, it wasn't awkward.
Eventually, I looked over and asked, "Hey… Do you think you could teach me how to use a sword?"
He raised a brow. "Aren't you going to report me to the Church for breaking some sacred guideline or whatever?"
"No," I said, glancing ahead. "I want to be able to fight like that too. Not just heal from the sidelines."
He didn't answer for a moment.
Then, with a grin, he replied, "Alright. But you teach me some spells in exchange ."
I snorted. "Deal."
To be continued....