Chapter 159
Chapter 159
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 159
Chapter Title: Annoying Attention
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After promising to come back tomorrow, I left Mr. Blanch's house and headed straight for the floating island.
Was it because I lost the game? My heart felt strangely empty, so instead of running as usual, I took a carriage.
It wasn't my usual luxury carriage but one operated by a merchant guild, so the ride wasn't great.
Still, with the body of an otherworlder, the jolts and soreness in my butt might as well not exist, so it didn't bother me much.
As I spaced out in the carriage, a name suddenly popped into my head.
Mullin.
Full name probably Mullin Kreitz or something like that.
My impression of her was a blonde beauty radiating sensuality and decadence unbefitting a priestess.
She usually wore a veil over her head, showing only her face, but even then, I thought she was pretty sexy.
Just her face alone gave that vibe, and her priestess robes—modified in a way that screamed non-standard—clung to her voluptuous figure, solidifying the impression.
The mole near her mouth was the perfect accent to amp up the sexiness.
And when I saw her without the veil on the floating island? Honestly, it felt like an angel had descended.
Whatever her insides were like, a priestess with long, flowing, silky blonde hair fluttering around exuded an aura of utmost holiness.
Just to clarify out of pedantry: this is the sacred kind related to gods.
A nun radiating angelic beauty as if detached from worldly desires. That's the outward appearance of Mullin Kreitz.
Well, that's just the surface.
Inside, she's a world-weary old man soaked through with vice.
She has nothing to do with me—we've barely even talked.
Her yelling support for me on the floating island in casual speech was the extent of our "conversation," and I was too busy checking on others to thank her properly.
Even someone with zero connection to her like me could tell she was a total failure as a priestess.
First, let's talk about what makes a fitting impression for a priestess.
Short and sweet: primarily a kind, benevolent face.
These days, in stories, priestesses are often depicted as corrupt except for a few outliers, but that's the higher-ups. Regular priestesses usually have that good-hearted look.
They give generously, perform miracles, always use polite speech, and maintain impeccable posture.
They avoid wrinkling their robes, steer clear of irreverent items like cigarettes, and project a clean image overall.
Like most religions, they avoid killing.
And they devoutly spread the faith.
That's the public's image of a good priestess.
Now, compare that to Mullin.
As I mentioned, she's basically a stranger, but she hit me with casual speech right off the bat, regardless.
Maybe because I look younger than her.
She looks older at first glance, so casual speech isn't a big deal.
I'm the type who can shrug it off even if a kid talks casually to me, as long as they're not overly arrogant. For real.
But drinking? That's a bit much.
You could argue priestesses can drink too, you old fogey, but the problem is Mullin always has booze on her.
Truly, every time I've passed by and spotted her by chance, she never once didn't have a drink in hand.
Once, I went to the staff lounge to rest and found her passed out on the sofa hugging a bottle—I just left.
Setting aside that she's supposed to be a role model priestess, she's an instructor.
Drinking on the job? Kinda iffy.
As for her demeanor, her outfit is somehow always pristine and wrinkle-free, like she hasn't been crashing anywhere.
But her body language? Not so much.
She crosses her legs sexy-like? Fine. But smoking with her calf propped up, jiggling her leg, or practically merging with the chair or sofa...
Frankly, she comes off like a burnt-out salaryman.
Outwardly more priestess-like than anyone, but her behavior? I could totally hang with her as a buddy.
To be honest, I'd gone to the lounge to sprawl out myself.
I bailed because I didn't want misunderstandings from sleeping next to a woman.
Don't misunderstand.
I have zero interest in her as a priestess or person, and as long as it's not heinous crime-level stuff, she can do whatever.
But as a priestess? She's a flat zero. Fact.
And this woman was a saintess candidate?
A saintess candidate who took thousands of lives? Not with some purifying light skill, but by smashing heads?
With what? A cross? A mace?
Conclusion.
She's a fallen priestess.
Fallen sounds kinda hot, though.
Anyway, in Buddhist terms, a monk who broke his precepts—a total sleaze.
Going to someone like that to ask a favor about Mr. Blanch's arm is pretty burdensome for a reasonable guy like me.
But I can't just sit idle.
It's for Mr. Blanch, who helped me. Gotta do something.
The Hart family can provide almost anything material-wise.
So what Mullin wants must transcend material things.
If it's an item that drops from monsters or something, that's where I can shine.
Who knows? Maybe she values her fellow instructors.
Let's simulate a conversation with Mullin on the way.
[Yeah, go ahead. I'll help.]
This guy's recharged his battery?
[Oh my. You're Dre, the hero who saved the floating island?!]
......
......
[Answer me, kid. Aren't you embarrassed?]
Doesn't sound embarrassed at all.
My face is burning, you jerk.
[Started with the best-case brat route.]
That's just delusion.
Bickering with Mangsin, I arrived at the warp gate in no time.
Come to think of it, after that first time using the warp gate when a woman's voice spoke to me, I haven't heard it since.
That woman from my dream.
Who was she?
[Stop pretending you don't know when you have a guess. There's a limit to caution.]
Shut up.
...Precisely, I don't know. Just a guess on the name.
Probably one of my patron gods.
Olnist cut off at "ga...", so a divinity starting with "Ga."
Thinking of famous goddesses points to the answer, but... somehow.
I feel like it's a divinity totally unlike the myths.
Not worth dwelling on since it won't yield answers anyway. Forget it for now.
I passed through the warp gate and dashed to the floating elevator.
Conveniently, one was down on the ground.
Aside from morning commutes, they rarely descend, usually parked at the world tree level this time of day.
But there was a girl in uniform stepping out of the elevator right then.
Her look felt familiar.
Probably someone I know.
"Oh."
"Oh."
Up close, "probably" became "definitely."
Clarier.
Arms crossed in her usual haughty pose, small mouth agape as she stared at me.
"Long time no see, Clarier."
"...Yeah. It has been."
Clarier was still icy as ever.
I thought helping her last time might've thawed her a bit, but nope.
Well, that's Clarier for you.
High-class, cold... pretty.
Bitchy as hell, but damn pretty.
"Where you headed?"
"To the academy."
"That's obvious."
I shrugged, and she sighed like her head hurt, spinning around.
"?"
"Got something to say?"
"No, weren't you about to head to the commercial district?"
"Just admiring the view till the elevator arrived."
"Hmm."
Fair enough.
Not exactly friendly, but we boarded the transparent floating elevator side by side.
Vwoom.
This weird floating sensation and the thrilling rush as the ground recedes.
Fun no matter how many times.
"You look thrilled."
"'Cause it's fun."
"I see."
Silence.
Not much long-talk material with her.
I don't mind, but maybe she does—she awkwardly struck up conversation.
"Heard you got awards from both the academy and the royals."
"Royals, sure, but I don't recall any academy award."
"You got the right to pick your students. That's a huge privilege for a new instructor."
"?"
Right to pick students?
First I've heard of it.
Principal mentioned it and I forgot? No memory.
Deliberately omitted?
"So, decided what you'll teach?"
"Got a rough direction."
Worried for me? Weird.
But she frowned next instant—wrong words.
"Rough?"
"......"
"...Dre. I thought you were pretty diligent."
"Uh, yeah."
"But that diligence shows in improving yourself, not for others, apparently."
"......"
"Got it, Dre? Lectures at Pryunar Academy are prestigious, high-level classes everyone craves. Unlike elsewhere, you gain something real—taught generously yet hard to keep up, elite stuff..."
Fuck.
Is she my wife or what? Nagging like this.
Dad had no wife so not sure, but this husband-getting-scolded vibe?
People say family brings happiness, but this? Just annoying.
Topic change? Topic...
None.
How much common ground do we have for chit-chat?
...Wait, one thing.
Genuinely curious.
"Your face looks all better."
"Why change the subject? We're talking instructor attitude..."
"Good thing. Such a pretty face—if not healed, it'd make your usual behavior look bad."
Got pissed from the nagging, implied she's just a pretty face. Long silence.
...Mad?
Scared.
"......"
"....."
Fuck.
Screwed.
Didn't want this heavy glare...
Cold sweat dripping unconsciously.
".........Yes."
"...?"
Yes?
What yes?
Yes to bad behavior?
Didn't mean it.
I babbled to salvage.
"No, I mean, Clarier has a sharp side but she's actually kind, looks out for others, upright..."
"Th, uh..."
She bit her lip.
Face flushed with rage.
Fuck, really screwed.
Pray in these cases?
No, how'd I know? Someone I know...
Right. Dad.
Dad scolded when needed, raged when needed.
Good.
I'll rage back if she does.
True feminist, gender equality.
Resolved.
"Dre!"
"Yes. My bad."
Nope, not that.
Caved instantly.
"Th-that attitude is why people misunderstand!"
"?"
"How clingy Hamart's been lately—do you even know my suffering?"
Hamart who?
Oh, her boyfriend.
Stuttering hard for her.
"Yeah... sorry."
Apologized anyway.
"Yes! You should be. You're really... Ah, Asita keeps flirting 'cause Medeusa's insecure, it's annoying..."
Medeusa? Oh, Asita's boyfriend, that lucky bastard with the best title.
Not deep yet, not her BF, but pisses me off anyway.
Insecure flirting lately?
Why?
"What's he insecure about?"
She stared incredulously.
"Our relationship was shaky already, and you and Asita look so close."
"...Aha."
Jealousy, huh?
Asita and me? Then last time flashed: that sweet, delicate body. Fruity scent. Pleasure.
"...Gulp."
"Wh-where are you looking while swallowing?!"
"?"
What? Realized I'd stared at her chest unintentionally.
"Misunderstanding."
"Quiet...! Shut up now."
"Yes."
Elevator arrived then.
...Slower than usual?
Definitely. Chilly too. Whole thing frosty...
How to put it? Slow enough not to crash?
Tilting head at the weirdness, Clarier exited without looking back.
Why would she slow it? Hates me.
I followed, relieved nagging over.
Then Clarier halted abruptly.
"...Tha,"
"?"
"Thank... you."
"......"
Curious about her face turned away.
She spun as thought it—probably too rigid to apologize face-to-face.
As expected, cheeks and ears beet red.
"Thanks for saving me. I'd be dead without you... Why that face?"
"What about it?"
"You're grinning!"
"Heh heh."
"Urgh...!"
She's kinda cute for once.
But true to form, she cooled fast, back to icy.
"So, what's your business? Figured you were busy off-campus since no class today."
"Today too," thorny words.
But...
"How'd you know I skipped?"
I wander nearby even "at work"—hard to tell usually.
"...Th-the Ten Great Families share an info network."
"Privacy invasion much."
"Anyway! Why are you here?!"
Why so snappy?
"Looking for Instructor Mullin."
Proper title since it's Clarier.
"Instructor Mullin...? Why her?"
"Got something to discuss."
"......"
She seemed curious but wiped it, pondering.
"She takes few students, whereabouts unclear... No idea. Her usual cathedral's off-limits till classes end, per principal."
How much napping there for a ban?
"Priestess, so somewhere holy-feeling? Like the monument by the central auditorium."
"Rude, Dre. Hm... Mullin? Sunny spot, cushy... nah. Seems oblivious to eyes but hates company when sleeping..."
You're ruder, bitch.
Students know she loves naps— that lazy.
"...Combat department training ground? Lots of trees, decent sun for good sleep."
"Sure. You got no errands?"
"Nothing."
"Okay."
Fine then.
We headed to the combat department training ground.
Via the recently repaired warp gate!
First time—pretty fun.
"Convenient."
"Daily for us; recent mess was hell."
"Hmm."
"Speaking of, talked to the White Tower Lord?"
"? White Tower Lord?"
"White Horse Master more familiar?"
Ah.
That bastard who tried sacrificing Asita.
"Why him?"
"'Him'? He visited our Blija family recently, talked to the head. Said he'd see you soon."
"Did he?"
Not yet, asshole.
Wonder what for?
Whatever, he'll come if he wants.
Punch if crap talk.
We chatted about others en route.
She's decent company once talking.
Unexpected side.
Hope she thinks so too.
.....
.....
Huh?
Wait, during chat, feels like someone wasn't mentioned.
Who? Hamart, Medeusa trash—talked them.
Someone I hate recalling? Kaiztunde? Kaiz—someone else pops up...
Wait.
Something super important but maybe not—feels forgotten, crucial and noble...
Not hate-forgetting, but okay-to-leave? Rare.
Fuck, who?
Who... who!
Then, familiar transmission.
System.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Dragon God ????? sends a message.] What the fuck.
Busy.
But the text forced some seriousness.
Dragon God.
Top-tier divinity who offered help and delivered.
Could ignore others, but not this powerhouse who favors me.
See what he says.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [O noble one. Shamelessly, I have a request... I'll ensure no harm comes to you by any means—could we meet?] Meeting fine... but worry like with Olnist, some "Ga" intruder?
...Huh? Huh?
Wait. Dragon God. Dra...
Dra...?
Revived warp gate.
That Kaiz prick mentioned... seal.
Ah.
"Ah!!!"
"?!"
My yell made Clarier jump like a cat.
No time for that.
"Prostia...!"
Totally forgotten!