The Saint Likes Me, But I’m Screwed… [Rewrite]
One early spring day, Alum and his classmates fell victim to a spatial quake—descending to Lethren, a world filled with elemental magic and wonder. Yet, even with the supernatural, Alum remained aloof; whichever world—it didn’t matter. Monsters the form of man, beast, or abomination—it never changed.
He knew he wasn’t always alone, but he never thought to have deserved such kindness. To those who gave him paint, now was the time to pay it back, especially in the vivid horrors of the new world—surviving the wilderness.
Then, along the way, colors began to seep into the garden, blossoming greens, painting blues, and budding reds. His heart throbbed a funny way for the first time—he’d fallen in love with Amethely at first sight after arriving in the peaceful metropolis, Ilifel.
Once, a girl, whom he did not know, revealed to be the Imperial Saint—Could I pursue this? He coolly contemplated, looking at the options. However, change could never be easy for someone like him. How long would it take for a newly rinsed blade to stain?
—
An elegant Saint with silver-gray hair and pink amethyst eyes was regarded as one of the most prominent light mages in the empire. A girl who was once always in the shadow of her sister, obsessed with research and the path of the sword, with a wish to carry on her late grandmother’s legacy—fell in love.
He was a foreigner with soft golden eyes and jet-black hair—a somewhat clueless expression yet charming nonetheless.
New to love, Amethely didn’t know what to do, but she knew she wanted to see him again. Thus, she hoped to run into him again, at the same place, at the same time.
This time, she wanted to know his name, and for him to know hers, so that one day, even if their love doesn’t blossom, that light would pierce into his ashen world.
Schedule: weekend or either Mon/Wed