Morning sunlight filtered through the window as Noah held Hermione in his arms, both of them asleep.
Five years was but an instant to Noah. For a mage, it was hardly a big deal.
Throughout those five years, Noah had kept an eye on the war, but he could not remain in Asgard forever. He had his own matters to attend to.
Such as improving his strength and properly sorting out his love life.
By normal human standards, Noah was already in his forties. Of course, that was by ordinary human reckoning; by a mage's standards, Noah was still incredibly young.
But Noah did not want to keep putting things off. He was not promiscuous. To him, a stable relationship was far more practical than a pile of inexplicable relationships that needed all sorts of effort to maintain.
Keeping a harem might have crossed Noah's mind shortly after he transmigrated, but perhaps studying magic had dulled his interest. Now, Noah had no real thoughts in that direction.
He had even considered simply giving up on women altogether and spending his time researching magic instead.
But ever since Hermione entered his life, Noah had found that this was not so bad either.
Maintaining a stable relationship and enjoying the feelings it brought him made Noah feel very comfortable.
So Noah had made a plan. He wanted to properly define his relationship with Hermione—or rather, he felt that he should make this stable relationship even more solid.
For example, by putting a lock on it. A lock in the form of a ring.
"Bzz, bzz."
Still half-asleep, Noah opened his eyes unhappily. He did not remember setting an alarm on his phone, so clearly some tactless bastard was calling him.
With a yawn, Noah could not be bothered to answer. He continued