Chapter 216
Chapter 216
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: We Welcome Your Visit! (2)
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Lucien Grayhauncher looked at Yuria, sitting beside her, with a worried expression.
It was their regular prayer time, as always. For her and Yuria, it was practically part of their daily routine.
It was that natural. Nothing burdensome about it, no real reason to find it taxing.
“...”
But lately.
Whenever this time rolled around, Yuria's condition took a turn for the worse.
A faint tremor ran through her entire body. Her eyes were shut tight, and her clasped hands were visibly slick with cold sweat.
Occasionally, she mumbled something like a sob.
It had been like this ever since Dawood had briefly lost consciousness and then come to.
‘...She's regretting it, that's all.’
She must be consumed with bone-deep remorse for harming the same person twice.
So even during prayer like this, she reacted with such trauma.
As if confessing her sins to the gods.
“Yuria.”
“Yes, sister.”
“Dawood said he's fine. That it wasn't your fault.”
After they'd subdued the rampaging Faynol possessed by the Red Devil together, Dawood had called Yuria aside and made that clear to her personally.
That he was truly okay, and she didn't need to feel any guilt.
The fact that he'd gone out of his way to tell her that meant even he could see how badly it was affecting her.
“...Yeah.”
But.
As her weak, listless reply made plain.
It was obvious words alone couldn't snap her out of it.
‘...She needs some kind of trigger.’
To shake off this gloom that kept her little sister so wrapped up,
Lucien let out a sigh and clasped her hands again.
Focusing her mind reverently on the altar before her, she recited the prayer.
‘...Lord, please.’
If asked whether her faith was still as strong as ever, even Lucien would struggle to give a resounding yes.
Still, she couldn't stop praying sincerely for her sister's sake.
‘Grant her the strength to overcome this trial...’
And before the words could even finish, as if in direct response to her prayer, the chapel doors burst open.
“There you are!”
“...”
Even with aid from the Holy Kingdom cut off, Lucien's title as saintess remained intact.
Few would dare interrupt her prayers with such rudeness.
“...Eliya?”
So.
It made sense if it was the woman recently appointed as 'hero.'
After being chosen by the holy sword, the Holy Kingdom had officially named Eliya Chrisanax the hero. That gave her enough authority to get away with this level of discourtesy.
“...What are you doing here? You must be swamped right now.”
Of course, that didn't mean this was an appropriate time or place for it.
Right after the appointment, there'd be hero-level training and a mountain of administrative work to balance the interests of various nations—she should be buried under all that, groaning.
But Lucien's question went ignored as Eliya marched straight up to Yuria.
“...Hero, this is our prayer time right now. If you have business, could it wait until—”
“You were probably just wallowing again, thinking it's all because I got the teacher hurt, right?”
“...”
Lucien's jaw dropped.
What.
The hell is this?
“...Uh.”
Yuria squirmed and averted her eyes.
Okay, it was true.
But did she really have to stab right at the heart like that?
Lucien was about to say as much, but Eliya beat her to it.
“Then I'll save him, and we're good.”
“...Pardon?”
“If you've messed up twice, just help him out big-time once! Enough to wash away all that guilt clean!”
“...Pardon?”
Eliya strode toward Yuria, who was repeating herself like a parrot.
“Dawood's in serious danger right now.”
“...Pardon?”
“He got dragged to the Tristan Ducal House! Over some ridiculous bet!”
“...”
No.
From what she'd heard, Yuria had agreed to that bet herself.
Lucien narrowed her eyes at the thought, but Eliya leaned in close to the increasingly flustered Yuria, her eyes sparkling.
“So let's go rescue him! I had no idea that bet was even happening behind my back!”
“...”
“So I came to you, my most trustworthy friend!”
“F-Friend...?”
A faint flush of color bloomed on Yuria's trembling face as she replied.
Lucien flinched. It was an expression she hadn't seen on her sister's face in months.
‘...The vibe feels a bit off...!’
Should she leave them be?
Was this the special trigger her prayer had summoned for her sister...?
As she swallowed dryly with those thoughts,
Eliya continued with the ferocity of someone breathing fire.
“Let's raid the Tristan ducal lands together!”
“...”
“And get Dawood back!”
Hold on.
What the hell was this conclusion?
Lucien snapped back and hurriedly spoke up.
“W-Wait a second. I know you're not seriously talking about an actual raid—”
“Saintess. I'm the hero now, right?”
“...?”
Well, yes.
But why bring that up now?
As Lucien blinked in confusion, Eliya puffed out her chest proudly and pressed on.
“It means I've got the authority and power to charge right at the student council president without holding back!”
“...”
Lucien's face crumpled rapidly.
“No matter how she's the empire's top noble, she'll have to yield before the title of hero!”
“...”
To think this was humanity's hope.
The future looked bleak.
“...Eliya.”
Back in the day.
Whenever Elnor went off like a rocket, Eliya was the one holding her back, or so it seemed.
He who gazes long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into him, or something like that.
Lucien suddenly felt a familiar pang looking at Eliya, chewing over the sentiment.
Yeah. She'd always said the same thing to her in moments like this.
“Yes, Saintess?”
“Have you truly lost your mind?”
“...”
Those who hung around Dawood too long must rub off on him somehow.
Lucien was convinced as she clutched her head.
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My whole body felt melted.
I'd only just arrived at the territory, and already I'd been through a parade, speeches, banquets, and even a military band performance—all in one go.
“...”
Even the emperor wouldn't get this kind of treatment.
Why the overkill...?
“You've had a long day. This way.”
Bella's voice dropped curtly as I slumped in exhaustion.
“...Is there more?”
“Just one last thing. Then you can rest at your lodgings.”
“...”
What else could there possibly be here?
At least it was the final one.
I sighed inwardly and followed Bella.
‘...Hm?’
In the meantime, a window popped up before my eyes.
[System Message]
[ Conditions for the personal quest 'Asura Field' have been generated! ] [ Number of important NPCs gathering in Tristan Ducal Lands: 2 / ??? ] [ The personal quest will activate once conditions are met! ]
“...”
Hm.
I stroked my chin at the floating window.
Lately, these quests popped up without any preamble, so I had to interpret them myself most of the time.
Judging from the ominous name 'Asura Field'...
‘...Another woman trouble, no doubt.’
I could guess that much blindfolded by now.
The naming sense alone reeked of the women around me getting deeply entangled.
The problem was.
[ Number of important NPCs gathering in Tristan Ducal Lands: 2 / ??? ]
“...”
Why wasn't the number displaying properly.
It felt like a shout in my ear: 'Brace for worse than this!'
‘...Hm.’
Speculating further.
The scale of this personal quest's chaos probably depended on how many gathered.
If it filled up completely, it'd live up to the name with a full-blown asura field.
‘And the odds of that many women from my circle showing up...’
Weren't low.
Elnor had already declared she'd drag me to her home turf and devour me like a beast, so anyone else with even a whiff of potential to flip their eyes and charge in was a latent threat.
In other words.
‘I'm screwed.’
[...No idea what you're looking at to say that, but you don't even sound urgent anymore?]
‘What can I do? It's not like this is the first time I'm screwed.'
[...]
Kalliban fell silent at my nonchalant words, as if at a loss.
[Look, it's good that you're not coming off like you've lost your humanity like before. Seems like you're holding onto your reason overall.]
‘Pardon?’
[But now it looks like you're turning into one of those clear-eyed lunatics, and that's worrying.]
‘...’
[Like you're half-enjoying it now...]
What're you on about.
I bantered idly with him as we reached the end of the corridor.
“We've arrived.”
Looking up at her words.
“...”
My expression hardened.
The door before me was awfully familiar.
No.
Am I even allowed here?
“Bella. A question—”
I switched words the moment I saw her icy look.
“...Bella. Mind if I ask something?”
She smiled sweetly in reply.
“Go ahead, Sir Dawood.”
“...This is the family head's room, isn't it?”
“You knew?”
“...”
Of course.
In the Tristan Ducal House, only one person was called 'family head' instead of 'duke.'
Leonid Levantador la Tristan.
The Tristan Ducal House's highest elder.
Technically not born into the Tristan Ducal House but from another noble family, incorporated through marriage.
“...”
And recently, there'd only been one marriage big enough for that.
Gideon's marriage. The couple who bore Elnor.
In other words.
This was Gideon's father-in-law.
Elnor's grandfather, too.
So why there?
“He insisted on meeting you at least once, Sir Dawood.”
“...”
My face soured a bit.
No clue why.
No matter how I racked my brains over Leonid's lore, nothing suggested he'd take an interest in me.
“Please, come in.”
“...”
But with Bella urging me on, I shelved the worries for now.
‘...No real reason to dodge.’
No need to tank affinity with someone close to Elnor.
With that in mind, I stepped inside.
A vast study.
The room oozed the vibe of a scholar's workshop.
“...Family head.”
I called out cautiously upon entering, and the man across the desk swiveled his chair to face me.
‘...Wow.’
This must be what 'aging gracefully' looks like.
He had the looks to pass for a movie star back in my old world.
“So you're Dawood Campbell.”
His voice followed, equally striking.
“Pleased to meet you, Family Head.”
Leonid nodded impassively at my greeting.
‘...Feels kinda familiar?’
His whole demeanor—what was it.
Uncannily like Elnor.
Probably where she got it from.
The whole family seemed to have a knack for muted expressions.
“Just one question, lad.”
Another query drifted out.
“Was it you Elnor invited this time?”
“...?”
Couldn't read the intent.
I cocked my head internally.
But it was true, so I affirmed.
“Yes. I'm always in the Duchess's debt.”
“...I see.”
Leonid fell silent for a long stretch after my words.
And kept silent.
More silence.
Then, cutting through it, a flat voice dropped one line.
“Looks like you two are on pretty close terms.”
“...Fortunately, the Duchess looks favorably on me—”
“Then I'll have to kill you.”
“...”
One more thing.
No turn signal, just flooring it straight into overdrive—definitely a family trait.
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