Eve of the Entrance Ceremony (Interlude)
Recalling the look on her face just moments ago, it seemed my strategy had worked like a charm.
I smiled triumphantly to myself. Wasn't there an old saying that the quickest way to win someone's heart was through their stomach? Well, technically that applied to winning over a lover rather than a subordinate, but regardless, a freshly home-cooked meal was easily one of the best ways to bridge the distance with someone. Seduce their taste buds, and breaking the ice became effortless.
Besides, I already knew every single dish Stella loved. Having poured thousands of hours into the game, I knew full well how ridiculously overpowered she became if properly built, meaning she had been a mandatory recruit if one wanted an easy clear. And considering that cooking her favorite meals was one of the most effective ways to raise her affinity, this had been the obvious choice.
Her culinary tastes were quite distinctive, too.
In the game, Stella had a deep preference for Eastern-style dishes. She would eat Western food if served, but she never particularly enjoyed it. Among Eastern dishes, she specifically favored humble, home-cooked comfort food. That made it utterly ideal—simple to prepare, quick to make, and delightfully inexpensive when it came to ingredients. She loved anything Eastern, but hot soups provided the absolute highest affinity boost. The spread I had whipped up was essentially a culinary masterpiece packing every ounce of survival know-how from my bachelor days back on Earth.
At first, even as I cooked, I wondered whether it would truly work. The moment I watched her stare blankly at the table before devouring the food like a starving beast, every shred of doubt evaporated. As expected, even if in-game information couldn't be trusted unconditionally, it remained reasonably reliable. On top of that, sensing the guilt radiating from her toward me, things seemed to have unfolded rather nicely. Her shameless, indolent mask was usually far too thick to crack with ordinary means, yet a single home-cooked meal had peeled it clean off. How could I not feel pleased?
Having finished the meal, I focused my mental resonance on Stella while washing the dishes.
“…”
[What do I do… Is it too late to offer to help…?]
Listening to her thought waves, perhaps I had peeled that shameless mask off a little too thoroughly. Then again, what did it matter? I had already guilt-tripped Evan into a semi-forced friendship, so pulling something similar on Stella was hardly an issue.
Though I hadn't deliberately intended it, she was probably feeling self-conscious or deeply apologetic that a disabled person had not only cleaned the entire room but also cooked her dinner. Self-conscious, maybe, but apologetic felt slightly off the mark. For all her outward laziness, she possessed the fierce pride of the Red Magic Tower deep down; it was hard to imagine her feeling genuinely sorry over something so minor. Even if she was, all I had to do was cook her plenty of delicious meals going forward. My conscience was clear.
[Still, she already finished cleaning and even set the table… She’s even doing the dishes that were originally my turn, so what could I possibly help with? There has to be something left to do before I can offer help, right…?]
Listening to the excuses churning through her head, I felt a mild urge to flick her forehead. But I held back because she was cute.
In the end, Stella never did offer to help. Not that it mattered, since I hadn't cooked with the expectation of getting assistance anyway.
Phew…
Stepping out of the bathroom, I let out a satisfied sigh. One of the habits I had picked up after becoming a Saint was bathing. After operating in the Demonic Realm—where taking a proper wash was unimaginable compared to modern Earth or even my time in the cathedral—I had come to appreciate just how delightful and blissful a bath truly was. Above all, for someone who could neither see nor hear, feeling the gentle warmth and tactile embrace of water was one of the few pure pleasures I could enjoy. How could I possibly dislike it?
I had lived in this body for two years now, and at most it looked like a petite high school girl, so I harbored no weird self-fascination toward it. In the first place, 3D character models only spark interest when rendered like real people; seeing untextured wireframes and faint shapes hardly stirred any curiosity. I rarely felt whether someone was pretty or handsome in the conventional sense. The only reason I had recognized that female professor earlier as attractive was because the spatial perception granted by my Saint powers allowed me to read environmental contours with extraordinary fidelity.
As for Stella, I treated her with special care because she had been one of my absolute favorite characters in the game. Had she been a total stranger, I never would have gone this far for her. Even if maintaining my saintly facade demanded it, I would have drawn the line. I did this purely because it was Stella.
That was how much affection I held for her, but…
I can tolerate many things, but this crosses the line…
How on earth could someone living with a roommate, rather than all by herself, show zero intention of taking a bath? My eyes and ears might be ruined, but my sense of smell functioned flawlessly. If someone neglected to wash, they naturally began to stink.
“Lady Stella? Are you not going to take a bath…?”
“Yeah… Too much work…”
[If they find out I bossed her around, I’m dead meat either way, so why bother washing… Not that I ever actually bossed her around in the first place…]
Outwardly, she whined about it being a bother, but peeking at the inner monologue hidden beneath her surface thoughts revealed a far more dramatic picture. Under normal circumstances, unless a thought wave was exceptionally intense, uncovering the deeper layer veiled underneath was impossible. This girl had genuinely surrendered to despair.
More importantly… she had realized I was the Saint. No wonder her reaction had been so overblown. Ordering around someone with impaired sight and hearing was already a heavy burden on one's conscience, but discovering that the person you made clean your room was the sacred Saint herself? Her reaction suddenly made complete sense. The terrifying authority of the Holy Kingdom was apparently potent enough to make even the chronically indifferent Stella abandon all hope for survival.
It really was impressive in its own right. I let out a soft sigh. First, I needed to clear up this misunderstanding.
“Could your anxiety perhaps be due to me doing the chores earlier?”
“…It’s nothing like that.”
“Hehe… You are quite terrible at lying, Lady Stella.”
Truly terrible. Trembling her gaze all over the place, failing completely to settle her eyes anywhere, and subtly leaning away from me—who wouldn't notice? Because I perceived my surroundings by mapping spatial contours, catching awkward physical tells like that was remarkably easy.
Cornered by what was practically an accusation of lying, Stella let out a heavy sigh.
“What choice did I have…? If I knew you were the Saint of the Holy Kingdom, I would’ve stopped you…”
Just as I thought. Thought waves never lied. Of course, one shouldn't blindly trust people capable of perfectly masking their mental resonance, but Stella was hardly skilled enough for that.
I chuckled softly.
“There is no need to be so anxious. I have no intention of holding this against you, so please do not worry.”
“…”
“After all, I did it entirely because I wished to do so.”
Naturally, that was a separate matter from what the people of the Holy Kingdom would do if they ever witnessed me scrubbing floors and serving food. Those fanatics were extraordinarily obsessive and overprotective when it came to anything concerning me; even I couldn't predict how violently they might react. Obviously, I kept that part to myself.
Hearing my definitive reassurance, the color returned to Stella's face, and she offered a relieved smile, murmuring that she was glad. It was a relief she believed me. I had worried our shared dormitory life might remain stifling and uncomfortable, but she seemed to accept my claim that I had cleaned simply because I wanted to. Who on earth would willingly clean a dumpster fire of a room and cook a meal for their roommate just because they 'felt like it'? Yet, from her perspective, unless the Saint of the Holy Kingdom had done it entirely out of personal whim, there was no logical reason why such an exalted figure would travel all this way just to clean and cook.
“Then, I look forward to your continued care, Lady Stella.”
“Y-Yeah…”
Clearing up the misunderstanding was wonderful, but one crucial issue still remained.
“So then, when do you plan to go wash up?”
“…Do I really have to…? It’s such a hassle…”
Good grief. How could anyone think of skipping a bath the night before their first day at the Academy? Yet I couldn't very well drag her into the shower by force. I let out another sigh, pondering how to deal with this incorrigible woman.
…Was there really no other choice?
If I helped her out like this once, she would probably keep pestering me for it in the future. But leaving a walking source of foul odor in the room was something I simply could not endure.
“…Just this once, understand?”
With that warning, I channeled the sacred power of Purification toward Stella. Using a holy miracle capable of breaking the curse of the Demon King simply to dry-clean a dirty body felt utterly absurd, but…
“Whoa…”
Witnessing her entire body become pristine without stepping foot into the bath, Stella’s eyes sparkled with sheer wonder.
My daily life was definitely going to become much more tiresome. Haa…
Dawn broke.
And with the rising sun, the events I had long anticipated drew right before my eyes: the momentous Academy entrance ceremony, and the demons’ very first raid.