The Hero Can't Possibly Be a Foot Fetishist

Morning.

Maya stretched and yawned as she stepped into the small courtyard.

She had already heard about the incident at the Grand Cathedral—how a labyrinth had suddenly appeared there, and it had already been cleared...

Didn’t that mean... adventurers would start flocking here from now on? Their association would surely become livelier.

Maya began daydreaming, imagining the association flourishing under her leadership.

Her gaze drifted toward the towering spire of the cathedral in the distance. She used to find it an eyesore, but now, for the first time, it looked rather pleasing.

"Ah, Mr. Xia Lun, good morning!" Maya was surprised to find someone already in the backyard.

Xia Lun was clad in a loose white shirt and a pair of shorts, swinging a pitch-black greatsword that looked more like a slab of iron.

"Morning, Miss Maya," Xia Lun greeted without pausing his movements.

Truly a member of the Dawn Wings, training so diligently this early. Maya couldn’t help but admire his dedication.

Xia Lun practiced with intense focus. Aina’s words last night had only strengthened his resolve to grow stronger—so she could rely on him in the future.

Though Maya couldn’t discern the intricacies behind his seemingly ordinary swings, even as a complete novice, she could sense the fluidity of his movements. The weight of that massive sword was unfathomable to her, yet it seemed as light as a willow leaf in his hands, each motion radiating raw power.

He wasn’t sweating much—with his current physique, breaking a sweat wasn’t easy. His unbuttoned shirt hung loosely, revealing glimpses of his firm chest and well-defined abdominal muscles as he swung the sword.

Maya found herself staring, mesmerized.

Xia Lun cleared his throat, snapping her out of her daze. Blushing, she quickly averted her gaze and hurried away.

Hmm... Aina was still asleep. Maybe she hadn’t noticed what just happened.

For beings like Xia Lun and Aina, sleep wasn’t a necessity anymore. They wouldn’t feel fatigue even without rest—eating was the same. They could go without food and never feel hunger.

Yet they persisted in these habits, day after day. It was to reinforce their identity as "humans."

The concept was first proposed by elven scholars: even if one could sustain themselves purely with mana, maintaining human-like routines—sleeping, eating—was crucial for mental stability. Without it, prolonged lifespans could lead to psychological collapse, memory distortion, and the loss of humanity, resulting in catastrophic consequences.

Xia Lun didn’t worry about that happening to someone like Liyana, though.

Returning to his room, he wondered if Aina would want breakfast. He had fed her well last night.

Aina seemed to have just woken up and was already dressing—probably no need for breakfast.

Spotting Xia Lun, she kicked a boot from the bedside straight into his arms, a white sock stuffed inside.

"Xia Lun, put them on for me," Aina commanded, sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg crossed over the other.

"Why?" Xia Lun wasn’t the type to be cowed by his wife. He wouldn’t take such humiliation lying down.

"To remind you whose property you are," Aina retorted, tilting her chin up as she leaned back slightly. "Do you think the treasures of the Demon King’s vault are for anyone to gawk at?"

Ah. So she had noticed what happened earlier.

Xia Lun had no rebuttal. Silently, he obeyed, cradling Aina’s slender calf in his hands. His left hand supported the soft, pale curve of her leg while his right carefully slid the white stocking onto her foot.

Aina’s toes nearly brushed his face.

Though she wore mage boots daily, there was no trace of odor—the high-quality leather even carried a faint, pleasant fragrance.

Xia Lun worked slowly, meticulously, like a musician caressing piano keys.

Aina eyed him with disdain. "You seem to be enjoying this, Xia Lun. Do you want me to step on you?"

"Of course not! What kind of man do you take me for?" Xia Lun stared at her toes for a beat too long before sliding the boot on. "This is utterly humiliating."

Aina frowned. "It doesn’t feel like punishment to you."

Xia Lun: "No, Aina, my heart is full of shame. How could you make me dress you like this?"

"Then why is that grin fighting its way onto your face?" Aina narrowed her eyes.

"What grin? There isn’t one." Xia Lun turned his head away.

"There is. Go look in a mirror—you’re practically glowing." Aina huffed. "Turn back."

"Ahem... You still have one more foot, Aina. Let’s finish this so we can start the day." He dutifully took hold of her other leg.

"Xia Lun... tell me the truth." Aina smirked, triumphant. "Do you like my feet?"

She’d suspected it for a while but had never called him out on it.

"Yes." Xia Lun admitted without hesitation.

Aina’s expression turned teasing. "How disgraceful, Xia Lun. A hero like you, with such a... peculiar preference."

"Everything about you—your feet, your wings, every part—I love it all!" Xia Lun declared passionately, cutting her off. "I love all of you, Aina!"

The blunt confession caught Aina off guard, flushing her cheeks.

"I-Is that so? Xia Lun, you’re impossible..."

Finally, both boots were on.

So that was it. She’d misunderstood. Xia Lun loved her so much that it extended to every part of her... Of course he wouldn’t have some strange fetish.

She shouldn’t have trampled over his affection like that.

A pang of guilt struck her. Xia Lun would never actually enjoy being stepped on... Good thing she’d held back.

If he really liked it, he’d have told her outright. They were husband and wife, after all—no need for secrets. Just like how he always let her take the lead because he knew she preferred being on top.

Xia Lun sighed inwardly.

He’d dodged the truth out of embarrassment... Maybe he should’ve been more honest.