The Unconscious Mage

Just as Lucian was about to extinguish the fire and get moving, Lysera suddenly pointed toward the river.

"Look over there! Someone's in the water!"

"Where?" Lucian turned quickly—and froze.

A person was floating downstream, carried by the gentle current. As they reached the shallow section near him, the body started bumping into rocks and slowing down.

Without hesitation, Lucian bolted toward the riverbank. He didn't know whether the person was alive or dead, but the first step was getting them out of the water.

Wading in, he grabbed the stranger by the clothes and heaved—dragging them with no small effort up to the campfire.

It was a woman. And not just any woman.

She was... handsome?

Lucian couldn't quite explain it. She was beautiful, no doubt, but there was something about her that felt strikingly sharp and confident—handsome, in a way that made your breath catch.

Her features were almost impossibly refined: sharp yet soft, angular yet graceful. Her eyes were closed, long crimson lashes resting gently against her skin, with a hint of matching red eyeshadow. Her brows—thick, sword-shaped, and the same deep red—added a wild, fierce energy to her face.

Even her hair was a fiery red, drenched by the river but somehow not messy at all. It clung to her in rippling waves, like flames dancing beneath the surface of the water.

Despite being soaked, she didn't look disheveled—if anything, the water seemed to enhance her beauty.

Her clothing was unusual. She wore a dark crimson cloak over a tight-fitting white undershirt. The high collar emphasized her long, graceful neck, and even lying down, her chest looked... substantial, to say the least.

Lucian could tell just from the intricate design of her cloak—this woman wasn't ordinary.

And that cloak—despite being submerged—wasn't even wet.

"That robe has high-grade magical resistance. It's a piece of enchanted gear," Lysera observed. "I'd bet she's a mage."

"A mage?" Lucian's eyes lit up for a second, but he quickly shook his head. "No, focus. Magic later. First, check if she's still alive."

He gently pried open one of her eyelids. Her irises were red—glowing like rubies, with a depth that looked like they were smoldering from within.

"Her pupils aren't dilated. That's good—probably still alive. No breathing, though... must've swallowed water. Gotta start CPR!" he said, then hesitated. "Wait, do I really have to do mouth-to-mouth? Chest compressions?"

"What if she wakes up and blasts me into ash for touching her?"

He groaned and shook his head. "Screw it. Save her first. Worry later."

He opened her mouth, checked for obstructions, then pinched her nose shut and blew air into her lungs.

And no—he wasn't paying attention to how soft her lips felt. Saving a life came first.

He paused to watch her chest, then began compressions—not perfect technique, but as close as he could manage under the circumstances.

Minutes ticked by. Sweat ran down his face. Ten minutes in, just as he leaned in to give her another breath, the woman suddenly jolted—coughing violently.

Water burst from her mouth—right into Lucian's.

"What the fuck!" he yelped, gagging and stumbling back. He spat again and again.

"Pui! Pui! Pui!"

Even if it came from a knockout beauty, having someone puke river water straight into your mouth was not romantic.

Not one bit.

After gagging a few more times, Lucian finally turned back toward the woman. She still hadn't regained consciousness, but her breathing had returned.

Good. If her vitals were back, she'd probably wake up soon, right?

She looked like a mage… maybe once she came to, he could ask her to teach him some spells? He had just saved her life, after all.

Just imagining those vibrant, anime-style spells lighting up the sky made Lucian's heart race with excitement.

"Oh, crap, I almost forgot!" Lucian snapped his fingers and looked down at her again.

While the enchanted cloak had stayed dry, her undershirt and pants hadn't been nearly as lucky. Now, aside from that magical robe, the rest of her clothes were soaked through.

"Wet clothes draw away body heat... If her temperature drops too low, it could be dangerous. I need to get her out of those clothes—wait… that sounds so wrong." Lucian grimaced. "If she suddenly wakes up while I'm doing that, I'm toast. Straight-up incinerated. Pervert level: final boss."

But despite his inner panic, his hands didn't hesitate.

Her clothes weren't complicated, and he managed to undress her fairly quickly. Soon, her soaked garments lay folded beside her, and Lucian found himself face-to-face with her almost fully exposed body, lit faintly by the flickering fire.

Well—she was still wearing underwear. But that didn't stop the heat from rushing to Lucian's cheeks.

"Goddamn… those muscle lines. And abs? Seriously? Is she a melee mage?"

Now that her clothes were off, Lucian could fully appreciate how well-built she was. Her figure wasn't the soft, delicate kind—far from it. Her muscles were tight and defined, not bulky, but sleek, powerful, and perfectly balanced. There was a kind of natural flow to her physique that made it hard to look away.

Her body exuded strength and beauty—fiery, wild, and absolutely captivating. And those legs… damn. Those legs alone made it hard for Lucian to breathe.

She was tall—easily six-foot-one, the same height as him—but her legs looked way longer. It almost didn't seem fair.

That body. That face. That aura.

Lucian felt himself getting a little too absorbed.

He quickly moved her closer to the fire, draped the cloak over her shoulders, and then hung her wet clothes nearby to dry before jogging a safe distance away.

"Alright, alright, pull it together, Lucian. Beauty is a distraction. You're destined to rule this world—you can't be seduced by a hot body. You did this to save her. Yes. That's all this is... saving a life."

He nodded firmly. "And obviously, to save someone, you have to monitor their condition, right?"

With that perfectly reasonable excuse in mind, Lucian peeked again.

Goddamn. She really was stunning.

No! Not again!

He spun around, forcing himself to look the other way. "Focus! Focus! Don't look, Lucian! But then again... what if she suddenly stops breathing? That would be bad, right? Better safe than sorry."

He peeked again.

Holy hell. They were huge.

Ahem. No. That was it. No more peeking!

Meanwhile, Lysera, floating off to the side, watched the whole thing unfold and didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.

This guy… his eyes kept sneaking back over, like he was fighting an internal war every second.

And yet—despite everything—he never did anything actually indecent. Every move he made was cautious, almost delicate, like he was afraid of touching her by accident. Even undressing her had been done with the awkward gentleness of someone trying not to cross a line.

That contrast, that messy little battle between his instincts and his morals... it was kind of cute, actually.