Chapter 224: Rest (7)
Chapter 224: Rest (7)
“Carla. Lie face down here.”
“Yes, Master.”
Carla quickly hopped onto the sunbed, which I had reclined completely flat.
She could handle tanning her front herself, but since she wouldn't be able to reach her back, I decided to apply the cream for her.
It was a decision born of a little mutual self-interest.
While I was taking out the tanning cream, Carla slowly lowered herself onto the bed.
A pristine white back without a single blemish. Supple limbs. Her breasts pressed against the sunbed, spilling out slightly at the sides, and her profile as she turned her head to gaze up at me.
All these elements combined to give Carla an air of precarious beauty, like a finely crafted piece of art.
She was so beautiful I wanted to touch her, yet she gave off such a fleeting impression that I felt she might break if I did.
However, that only fueled my desire to hold her even more firmly in my grasp.
“I’m down, Master!”
Well, she only gives off that atmosphere occasionally these days; usually, all I see is one very obedient puppy.
I chuckled and patted Carla’s back.
“I know. I was just admiring the view for a moment.”
“Admiring what? Me?”
“Yeah. More specifically, you in the swimsuit I picked out for you.”
No matter how many times I looked, I really did pick a good one.
When I nodded silently, Carla gave a beaming smile.
“Are you just going to look?”
“Hardly. I’m going to undo the straps now, so stay still.”
“Okaay.”
With the feeling of unwrapping a gift, I untied the knots of the bikini on Carla’s back.
Ssh.
The straps slid to the sides, revealing the curve of her breasts from the side. Keeping my eyes fixed there, I opened the lid of the tanning cream jar I had prepared.
“Oh...”
The moment I opened it, a scent wafted out—a perfect blend of vanilla and strawberry.
Even though I’d smelled it before, I couldn't help but be impressed.
Between the fruit-flavored potions and this cream, Fay really had a knack for creating flavors and scents.
Of course, there was a heartbreaking story behind it: before she got a sponsor, she didn't even have money for jam, so she used to spray various flavored potions on her bread to eat.
Chuckling to myself, I scooped out some tanning cream and spread it evenly across my palms. The sensation of it clinging to my skin felt surprisingly good.
“If I do your back, can you handle the rest yourself?”
“I’d prefer it if Master did everything else too, if possible... but since the others are here, I suppose it can’t be helped.”
I placed my hands directly onto the back of the giggling Carla.
“Hic!”
Carla flinched, her smile still on her face. I couldn't help but let out a snicker at the twitch I felt through my fingertips.
“Is it cold?”
“You knew it would be, and you applied it anyway, didn't you...?”
“Yeah. I wanted to see you jump like a fish out of water, just like that.”
“...Master, you’re cute, but you can be so mischievous sometimes.”
“I don’t think I’m particularly cute.”
“I don’t know. That’s how you look in my eyes.”
Is it similar to how I find Iris cute, even though she’s five hundred years older than me?
Tilting my head at the thought, I began to move my hands in earnest across Carla’s back.
The pout on Carla’s face quickly melted away.
The sensation of soft skin and smooth cream. Her warm body temperature and the way her torso rose and fell with every breath asserted Carla’s presence.
Her slender neck. Her shapely shoulder blades. I moved past the hollow of her spine, and only when my hands reached her waist did I finally speak.
“Carla.”
“Yes, my cute Master?”
Her voice sounded quite content. However, what I was about to say was a rather serious matter.
“Your father. I mean, Theodore Lindelheit.”
“...Yes.”
The Archmage who suddenly turned traitor. The man who sought the knowledge of the Evil God to reach the realm of divinity. The last head of a famous magic family.
And the reason Carla became a slave.
At the mention of Theodore’s name, Carla’s voice, which had been bright until a moment ago, turned somber.
It was a subject we had avoided until now. But it had to be said.
“Do you really think he became a follower of the Evil God?”
“......”
Carla kept her mouth shut. But sometimes, silence is an answer in itself.
“You don't think so, do you?”
“Ma-Master, I...”
“It’s okay. Because I don’t think so either.”
Carla, who had been about to say something, clamped her mouth shut again. Her ruby eyes widened; my words must have been quite unexpected.
I gently pressed down on Carla’s back as she tried to bolt upright, forcing her to lie back down before continuing.
“On the surface, the story makes sense. It’s not uncommon for those who pursue power to become obsessed and fall into corruption.”
There are always shortcuts in any endeavor. At first glance, they seem like the fast track, a way to bypass a solid wall...
But there’s a reason those paths never become the mainstream.
Whether it’s mana or aura, it is ultimately controlled by one's will. A trick used to bypass a wall eventually becomes an even greater wall, and in the end, it consumes the user.
I haven't encountered them yet, but in the case of large, state-managed dungeons, one occasionally encounters human-type enemies called 'Madmen' in addition to cultists and looters.
They are the remains of mages or knights who went insane—either those who fled into the dungeon to escape pursuit or those who lost their minds while fighting inside.
Well, there is a meta-strategy where you use this to forcibly raise your level and then use the 'Madman' trait to play the game on auto-battle...
But that’s only possible in a game; I have no desire to become such a lunatic in reality.
Anyway, the point is that these Madmen appear often enough to be a known phenomenon. And the higher the level of cultivation, the higher the rate of madness.
A mage or knight capable of reaching a high level would naturally possess a corresponding level of ambition.
Because of that, when they hit a wall, they find it hard to give up and instead veer off in a twisted direction.
Theodore was treated as one of them.
A mad Archmage is very, very rare, but they are beings that actually exist.
Even the dimensional rift that triggered the War of the Gods was an accident resulting from the experiments of an Archmage who was half-consumed by madness.
“At first, no one believed the accusation that Theodore Lindelheit was a cultist.”
“That’s right. Back then, even at the Academy, I received a lot of comfort from people saying there must have been some mistake.”
“But once the evidence was released, public opinion flipped instantly.”
Not only the public but even the Union of Good Gods, who stepped in for verification, nodded in agreement.
The evidence presented was that extensive, and every single piece contained decisive information.
“But all of that evidence was fabricated.”
“...What?”
I repeated myself to the stunned Carla.
“The whole thing was a charade orchestrated by the Church of the Boiling Silence.”
“......”
Why was the Lindelheit family called a famous magic family?
It was because they produced at least one Archmage in every single generation.
Even Iris, who has lived for five hundred years, is still only at the peak of being a High Magician, yet they produced one every generation.
To begin with, the rank of Archmage is a height that can only be reached when time, talent, and luck all align perfectly.
But the Lindelheit family was different. Ever since the awakening of their progenitor, the Dragon Factor flowing through their blood granted them talent that defied conventional common sense.
Since all dragons naturally become Archmages as they age, it stands to reason that those born with a Dragon Heart would be no different.
That’s why they must have been a thorn in the side of the cults.
Hiding in the shadows to build their strength, with the liberation of the Evil God now close at hand—the cults, who focused on sowing discord among their enemies while waiting for the right moment, wouldn't have just left them alone.
“It must have been a very elaborate operation.”
First, they planted a spy within the Lindelheit family. The first accuser was a man who had served as a servant since childhood and rose to the position of head butler in his old age.
The silent Servis is a believer of the Boiling Silence.
“Butler Servis?! That can’t be! I heard from my father that he was taken in before he was even seven years old...”
“That was a disguise too. His actual age is likely at least twenty years older than what you know.”
Why has the Church of the Boiling Silence been able to stay hidden until now, and why was I unable to root them all out even after my accusation?
The reason is simple. Their Authority is perfectly suited for hiding their identities.
If they can even mimic Holy Power, why wouldn't they be able to fake their age?
I don't know about the others, but Servis is a mid-boss you fight in the latter half of the game, so he is definitely a cultist.
“Of course, he didn't infiltrate alone. But it’s certain that Servis was the leader of the spies hidden within the Lindelheit family.”
Beyond that, there were those hidden within the Good God churches, those among the Levantine Empire’s officials, and finally, even a candidate for an Apostle hidden within the Imperial Family.
The Boiling Silence truly gave their all to bring about the downfall of the Lindelheit family... and they finally succeeded.
“B-but why did Father go to his execution so quietly? If it was all a frame-up, he should have protested somehow...”
“Because you were a hostage, Carla.”
“...Ah.”
An Archmage is someone at the pinnacle of martial power. A transcendent being upon whom political and physical pressure has little effect.
But Theodore Lindelheit was still human. And one who loved his daughter very much.
“There was a spy at the Academy too. You might not know since they’ve graduated by now... but someone close to you, Carla, was likely a believer of the Boiling Silence.”
“...Are you saying that if Father had caused a scene, they would have killed me immediately?”
“Exactly.”
The Church of the Boiling Silence was thoroughly hidden. Rather than gambling against an enemy whose identity, scale, and nature he knew nothing about, Theodore chose the certain path to keep his daughter alive.
If he quietly admitted to the charges and accepted execution, they would spare his daughter’s life.
They likely offered a deal along those lines.
If they succeeded in framing even an Archmage, there’s no way they couldn't have framed Carla for something.
It wasn't that they couldn't; they chose not to.
And as promised, he only revealed his fangs after seeing Carla’s safety at the trial and her being sentenced to slavery rather than death.
But by then, he was already draped in mana suppressors, and it was nearly impossible for him to fight and win against the Sword Master dispatched by the Levantine Empire as a precaution.
In the end, Theodore died before his daughter’s eyes, and Carla, having witnessed her father’s death, was sent straight to the slave market, leading to where she is now.
I had finished applying the tanning cream long ago, but only now did I slowly pull my hands away.
As I tied the knots of her swimsuit back together, Carla finally sat up.
“Did you know all along, Master?”
“Yes.”
“And yet, you stayed quiet?”
“I had no choice.”
At the time, I was nothing more than a powerless Treasure Goblin.
When even those far stronger than me, both politically and martially, were being purged without a trace for trying to defend Theodore, how could I have stepped forward?
“...I’m sorry, Master. You’re right. Of course. It’s not like there weren't people trying to help me or Father. It’s just that, one by one, they all lost contact.”
Carla bowed her head and then lifted it. However, her ruby eyes still glowed darkly with gloom.
“Why... why are you telling me this now? I’d rather not have known...”
“Because I’m different now.”
“Eh?”
Now, I possess a certain level of martial power, and I’ve gained fame and achievements by crushing various cultists.
On top of that, I now have the backing of Helena, the first Saintess to appear in three hundred years, and the unconditional support of the Righteous Light’s church.
“I think it’s fair to say I’ve earned at least a minimum right to be heard.”
Of course, it’s impossible right this moment. No matter what I say, the Church of the Boiling Silence would just destroy or fabricate evidence.
“But one day, I’ll be able to clear his name. Once we kill all the Evil Gods, their cults will go down with them.”
We can’t turn back time. But we can restore honor.
And... we can achieve revenge.
Carla sat in silence for a long time, processing my words, before her lips finally parted.
“Um, Master...”
“Yeah.”
“So, you knew I was framed and became a slave, yet you still devoured me so roughly from the very first day?”
“Is that what’s important right now?!”
“It’s important to me!”
Well, I guess so...!
Seeing me stammer, the corners of Carla’s mouth curved into a mischievous arc.
“I’m joking. I know the situation wouldn't have changed anyway. I actually think it’s a relief that I was sold to you, Master. Just... take responsibility.”
“Responsibility...?”
“Even if everything works out one day and I’m no longer a slave, please keep doting on me forever, just as you promised, Master.”
“Well, that’s a given.”
“And then, make me your slave again.”
“???”
I stared at her in disbelief, but all I saw was Carla smiling brightly.
Right. Her head got a little weird during her slave education.
This is troubling in many ways.
After that, I applied cream to Elisha, Iris, Fay, and Iona in turn, and we all enjoyed sunbathing together before returning to the Great Temple.
“The Righteous Light has awakened, Brother Yandel.”
As Helena spoke, lion ears made of light sprouted from her head.