Adaptation (7)
Noel Wentz, a priest of the Art Cult, had been hearing the name Lucy Aln for months now — until she was sick to death of it.
It was only natural. Apostle Frete, who served the Goddess of Beauty and Art, praised the name Lucy Aln at every waking hour, and every priest and bishop who claimed to have glimpsed the girl through their crystal balls was raising holy hell about how they simply had to meet Her Ladyship just once.
"You weren't there back then? Seriously!?"
"Wow. You are genuinely wasting your life right now."
"I still can't forget that day. No wonder the Apostle went so far as to compose a song in her honor!"
Noel had been away on another assignment the day Lucy Aln of House Aln contacted the Apostle, and she simply could not fathom her colleagues' hysterics.
Just how pretty could a person be to cause this much of a commotion? There was no one in this world more artistically beautiful than the Apostle Himself.
Having only heard rumors of Lucy Aln, never laying eyes on her, Noel watched with weary disdain as her fellow priests begged to be released to the Aln territory.
Even children drunk on their first love wouldn't carry on like this, she thought.
After enduring endless suffering thanks to her colleagues' lovesickness, Noel found herself nurturing a wish of her own.
Just how gorgeous is this person, that they've been losing their minds for months?! I want to see her with my own two eyes, just once! Then I'll finally know whether these lunatics are being ridiculous, or whether she really is pretty enough to justify all this!
Her wish was granted within days. Lucy Aln herself — the very person the entire cult had been raving about — came to visit the cult's headquarters.
Noel bolted out of the building the moment she heard the news, and the instant she saw Lucy Aln emerging from the teleportation array, she understood exactly why her colleagues had lost their minds.
If I'd laid eyes on an angel like that, I'd be shrieking too.
No — it would be stranger not to.
How could anyone in the Art Cult look upon a living work of art like the Lady of House Aln and not fall to their knees in awe?
Some knelt in prayer. Some stared wide-eyed, as if unwilling to let a single instant of the moment slip away. Some broke down sobbing. Some muttered ceaselessly to themselves, as if inspiration had seized them by the throat.
Behind her escort knights, Lucy was surveying the cult's people when she let out a little snort of laughter, brushed past the knights, and stepped forward.
"Hey~ there, big brothers. Shouldn't you be working right now? Why is everyone gathered here? Did you all just give up on life and become certified losers?"
A voice like a melody from heaven, dripping with contempt and mockery. At Lucy's words, the people of the Art Cult fell silent, every single one of them.
Is that shock I'm seeing? Lucy thought, giggling as she continued.
"What, is that not it? Then why are you all standing around like this? Don't tell me you're all pedophile perverts who get off on little girls, and that's why you abandoned your duties? Because if so, that's honestly kind of disgusting."
Slipping past her escorts, Lucy walked up to a priest who was still kneeling in prayer right in front of her, bent at the waist, and met his eyes.
"And why are you drooling all over yourself, huh? Gross."
"I— that is— you see—"
"Can't talk without stammering? Are you just a brat who's done nothing but age, big brother?"
"...Your— Your Ladyship is simply... so beautiful."
The moment the priest finally managed to squeeze out the words with a ragged breath, Lucy's expression turned to ice.
Brows knitted tight, eyes narrowing, a gaze steeped in pure revulsion.
"Mm-hmm. So you're a pervert who lusts after a girl who barely comes up to your waist. Got it."
"No, I— I would never—"
"'Never'? Really? You're telling me you haven't had a single weird thought? Could you say that to the Crow Goddess's face and hold your head high? Hmm?"
"..."
"PWAHAHAHA! Look at you, can't say a word! You disgusting sexual-deviant piece of trash. Just die already. Do the world a favor and bite your tongue."
Having vented every last word, Lucy lifted her head with an air of deep satisfaction — then felt the scorching stares fixed on her and took an involuntary step backward.
Lucy had survived her whole life amid the hostility of countless people, and she knew at once that the eyes on her now were not hostile.
What filled the cultists' eyes was nothing like the looks Lucy usually received. This isn't the way the other nobles at the academy used to look at me.
No — this was closer to the way the Face-Con Fox or the Pervert Apostle looked at her...
"Lady of House Aln!"
Just as Lucy was reeling from the unexpected turn of events, someone in the crowd shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Please, don't shower that man alone with your blessings — grant me the honor as well!"
"Don't spout nonsense! I'm next! If that woman curses me out, I swear inspiration will strike!"
"All of you, silence! Obviously someone who's risen to the rank of bishop — namely, me — goes first!"
Startled by the madness spreading through the crowd, Lucy let out a squeak and dove behind Cal.
The cultists turned their hatred and killing intent on Cal, but far from cowering before those stares, he squared his shoulders with deliberate show.
"Back off, you trash! You dare frighten my lady?!"
"Shut up and get out of the way!"
"Lady Aln! Please, curse me out just once!"
"You don't even have to say anything — just look down on me with those contemptuous eyes, I beg you!"
The madness that had flooded the cult's headquarters only barely subsided a long while after the Apostle and the head of the Art Cult finally made their appearance.
I'm scared of people...
Having barely escaped the theater of madness the Art Cult's degenerates had created, I sat on the sofa hugging my knees to my chest, trying to soothe myself.
<And why, pray tell, did you throw fresh meat to a pack of lunatics?>
I had no idea the place would be crawling with that many crazies, okay?!
Fine, I won't claim it wasn't my fault! I'm the one who got playful and picked the fight first!
But come on! How was I supposed to predict that everyone in the Art Cult is a raving lunatic just like the Pervert Apostle?!
What I expected was something completely different! I figured they'd be so enraged by my adorable flushed face that they wouldn't be able to lay a finger on me!
I was planning to toy with them and pay back all those other perverts for what they'd done to me!
Why, why did it have to end with mass-producing a bunch of lunatics begging to be stepped on?!
Is assuming the Art Cult's members would be relatively normal really such a catastrophic mistake?! Is it?!
<Be more careful next time. You had your escorts this once, so no harm done — but who's to say how it goes later?>
Please. Would I pull this without someone around to save my hide?
I only pulled stunts like that because I had an escape route, obviously. Say what you will about me, I'm not that thoughtless.
<So you're not saying you won't do it again, then.>
Grandfather's words caught me mid-sentence for a moment.
...Well. That's. Um. There could be situations where it's unavoidable, you know?
<Situations that require you to trample a person's dignity as a human being?>
What! Why not! It totally could happen!
Reality is always more dramatic than fiction, okay?! The moment you start judging plausibility with our pitiful little imaginations, that's exactly when the impossible comes knocking!
Just look at the Art Cult — a holy order packed to the rafters with degenerates like that. Isn't that an absurd situation already?!
If a cult full of perverts begging to be cursed out can exist, then surely a situation where I have to curse someone out can exist too!
<Right. If you say so, then I suppose it must be so.>
Grandfather! Keep that up and I'm seriously going to get mad?!>
<Oh? Is understanding your granddaughter's reasoning such a crime now? This old grandfather is deeply wronged, I tell you.>
You're not listening to a single word I'm saying seriously, you knowww!>
I was in the middle of squabbling with Grandfather when I heard a knock at the drawing room door.
When Erin glanced at me with her eyes, wordlessly asking what to do, I gave a small nod, and she relayed the instruction to enter in my stead.
The moment the door closed behind him, the Pervert Apostle slammed his forehead into the floor.
"I sincerely apologize, Lady of House Aln! The members of our cult have committed a grave discourtesy!"
I'd been planning to vent at him at least a little, if only to blow off steam, but his groveling apology caught me so off guard that my mouth just hung open.
"There was no malice intended, I swear! Our people were simply bewitched by Your Ladyship's beauty!"
"And you believe that excuses their discourtesy?"
Just as I stood there blinking in bewilderment, Cal, stationed at my side, cut in with a blade-sharp voice.
What's gotten into him today? Normally he just stands quietly behind me unless I tell him otherwise.
"Of course, I am not claiming our side bears no fault! We will of course pay the appropriate price for it! However—"
"Do you have any idea how terrified my lady was mere moments ago?! This is unmistakably—!"
It was only after hearing the fury in Cal's voice that I understood why he was acting this way.
Unlike before, my expressions move freely now.
He'd seen me genuinely frightened, and it had made his blood boil.
"Incompetent Dog. Did I ever say you could bark?"
It was endearing that he was thinking of me, but this was not what I wanted. Jumping in and making a scene without being told to wasn't loyalty — it was crossing the line.
"...Uh. That is—"
"Quiet."
"..."
"Is our Incompetent Dog so dim that he doesn't even realize he's being a nuisance?"
"...My apologies."
Having scolded the puppy into silence, I turned to the Pervert Apostle. He'd been staring blankly at Cal, but hurriedly raised his head and met my eyes.
"Pervert Apostle. Stop wasting my precious time with your nonsense and get up. The very act of breathing the same air as you makes my skin crawl, so I'd like to finish this business quickly."
"Understood!"
The Pervert Apostle sprang to his feet as if he'd been waiting for exactly that — and instead of sitting across from me, he came around to my side and knelt there.
A what on earth are you doing almost slipped out of my mouth, but I decided to just ignore it. Saying it would only make me tired.
"The only reason I bothered coming to this revolting place is that what you people are planning to do is so pathetic and so stupid."
"...You mean the purge operation?"
At the Pervert Apostle's question, I answered by simply glancing at Alsaetin. Catching my meaning at once, he inserted himself between me and the Apostle and laid out the current situation in flawless, orderly detail.
At first the Apostle's face was full of questions, but as Alsaetin's explanation went on, gravity settled over his features.
"So you are saying there is a strong likelihood this is a trap."
"Yes. As you can see, the intelligence is suspiciously accurate. It would be wise to assume the enemy coordinated it in advance."
The Pervert Apostle, who had been firing off one question after another at Alsaetin, soon conceded that the plan could not go forward. The judgment was simple: in the worst case, they stood to lose far too much.
"Thank you, truly, my lady. Thanks to you, we have averted an unnecessary sacrifice."
"Don't mention it. You were all just so hopelessly pathetic and brain-dead that I couldn't bear to watch."
"Even so, my gratitude remains unchanged. Once this business is concluded, I humbly ask that you allow us to repay you properly."
With the Apostle explaining that he might need to brief the rest of the cult, I remained in the drawing room, humming to myself as I daydreamed about what came next.
With this, I'd blocked the trap laid by the Evil God's followers, and I'd secured my justification to ask the Pervert Apostle to train Erin.
All I had to do was finish up the business here and head straight back to the Aln territory.
Then I could rest a little until the academy reopened.
Today had drained far too much of my mental energy.
But contrary to my expectations, I couldn't leave the Art Cult right away.
"Lady Aln. We... seem to require your assistance."
The people of the Art Cult were worse degenerates than I'd ever imagined — absolute lunatics, every last one of them.
So far gone that even after being told it was a trap, they were shouting that they would crawl into it anyway.