The Inevitable Ideal
I think I must have caught a cold, Priestess.
The unexpected words from my disciple made Petia look up with a surprised “Eh?”
He was a pupil who was occasionally heartless and sharp-tongued, yet usually kind and gentle. He was more than enough to be called the chamberlain’s daughter.
Petia had been raised under strict court education and was the sole saint.
I couldn’t possibly call her “harsh” even for a highborn noble’s daughter, so I simply thought she was “a bit too free-spirited.”
“A cold? Who…?”
“That visitor the other day.”
“Ah, Mr. Corche. With such a neat appearance…”
“Appearance and character and family don’t matter. What really appeals to me is his type.”
Type?
I wondered whether I should scold him that one shouldn’t classify humans by type. But it’s fine as long as you don’t think of them like meat grading. I was confused.
She had already figured me out perfectly. Winning him over with words would be almost impossible.
Then I should just keep my mouth shut.
“I guess he was my ideal type. Jean Corche, right? Where is the Corche family? I remember almost every noble, but this name is so strange.”
A surname? He couldn’t be a commoner. Corche? Where on earth did that weird name come from?
“H-he’s my ideal type? Arian! You can’t say it so casually. You’re the chamberlain’s daughter.”
“Even if you’re the king’s daughter, there are still ideal types. I have a man like that. Oh, women are fine too.”
As long as you’re just an idiot, it doesn’t matter whether they’re male or female.
The best thing about an ideal type is that you can have hundreds of them.
Come to me, all the fools in the world. Preferably one who falls for a guy like Jean Corche—deceitful yet faithful, someone who can dedicate everything to the gods.
“Y-yes, yes, yes, yes… ah, Gerka, please forgive these hideous words…”
But Petia froze. She looked at me with a face of pure disbelief, alternating between the delicious soup she was eating and the man who had brewed it.
“Could it be… that the ideal type is a woman?”
Petia pointed at herself with a trembling finger.
Ah, I knew why she was confused. She was beautiful. Truly stunning.
And she was a saint. To most men, a beautiful saint was a goddess incarnate.
If I tried to count how many men had courted her, even using my fingers, toes, and the saints would be exhausted.
So it was a valid thought. Of course, from her perspective.
From my perspective, it was ridiculous. Hey?
“Your Highness is truly beautiful… and noble. Ah, and kind.”
Whoa, beautiful. I got momentarily flustered because the next words slipped my mind.
Is Petia just pretty? I was briefly puzzled.
No, no. She still had advantages. Why didn’t it occur to me at that moment? GT__
“But my taste is almost god-like and devilish.”
“Who’s the god?”
“Naturally, it’s Your Highness. I have a rather devilish taste.”
She was a saint. Always half-distracted, but honestly, her dignity was enough to rival a king’s. After all, I was the brother.
Actually, succession favored Petia. This place doesn’t follow Salic law—the famous Frankish code that says daughters cannot inherit land. Since titles are tied to land, daughters can’t inherit titles either, meaning they can’t inherit the throne!
Of course, in reality, when a son is born, ninety-nine percent of the time the son inherits, but the fact that it’s not absolute in law is enormously significant.
Even if the path is short, it’s still extremely difficult, but the fact that it exists is a heaven-and-earth difference.
How should I speak to someone like her that “the one who tried to swindle me is a devil”? The daughter of a chamberlain is nothing special.
If Petia is the sun, I am a candle.
“As a temple servant, you must not utter devilish words. If you want to joke like that, hold yourself back. You need to endure far stricter training.”
Petia deliberately gave me a strict warning.
I smiled at her, who was lenient even with herself for thinking I might be her ideal type.
It had been raining for three days.
The Grand Hall was a sanctuary with legends. So there was not only Gerka’s temple, but many others. The temple district, so to speak.
Who would have thought that building a temple district on a mountain peak where no one lived would be a disaster, but it wasn’t.
“Wow, no one here today either.”
Normally the only quiet temple was Gerka’s. To outsiders it was just ruins, not a building.
Just as I don’t treat Mirra as a person, ruins aren’t buildings either.
Of course there are sturdy buildings that are ruins, but this temple is not one of them.
From my perspective, even the remaining pillars would collapse within a year or two.
Before that, I should take Petia out of here.
She was a frail woman who couldn’t walk in rain, snow, or wind. She wouldn’t be able to dodge when a pillar collapsed.
Anyway, normally we were alone, but today everyone was at ease, so I felt like a fat cat sleeping in the warm spring sun.
Ah, it felt good. It was fine if only I was doing well and everyone else was ruined, but the opposite was unbearable.
“I see. The priests of the other temples must be worried. It’s already been raining for three days.”
Petia sighed while looking out the window.
I didn’t feel like answering her kind heart anymore. Hah, you do what you want.
“I’m going to the library.”
“Oh? Really? Ah, but…”
Petia hesitated.
She loved short walks. And while here, she probably hadn’t eaten one in a long time.
Before she could say anything, I sliced a thick piece of medieval-style apple tart and served it.
Honey, cinnamon, and nuts on the apple.
“No more. You need dinner.”
“Mm, thank you…”
I don’t know if he was taking care of a guardian or raising a puppy.
But it was fine. Petia was adorable.
Of course, the puppy I swindled was just one, and after I took the chamberlain’s daughter, I would cut and run without looking back.
While Petia blushed happily eating the tart, I pulled my hood low over my cloak to shield from the rain and hurried toward the temple’s underground basement at a brisk walk.
Gerka’s temple underground library. Permanent magic kept it comfortable, and the collection was more than a thousand years’ worth.
Even if I searched all the nearby temples, finding one with this quality and quantity was impossible. The reason was simple.
This was the place that worshipped the god of learning and wisdom.
“Show me everything about the bookshelves.”
I had explained the Status to Gerka with full sincerity, but he clearly hadn’t understood.
Because when I summoned the Status on the bookshelf, all the book titles and summaries appeared. (The book’s history also appeared.)
He couldn’t think that Status was limited to people, and I couldn’t think that the obvious explanation was needed.
The result was this universally applicable technique returning to me.
“Next time, if I get something from the gods, I’ll have to use 21st-century terms.”
“Show me everything about my Status.”
This way the list of all the Status I had confirmed would appear, and I could summon them again by selecting an item.
The god of learning and wisdom hadn’t understood my explanation well, but he gave me an enormous ability while pretending.
And he also gave me a great realization: even the gods can be scammed. No, negotiations with gods are possible. The results of the negotiation differ depending on my ability!
‘If Gerka is the smartest god, the others are worth trying.’
First, I Status-ified the entire collection of the library so I could check the content anytime.
The more information, the better. Even if I became the countess of Hamilcar, nine revelations would still remain with me.
I kept Status-ifying at an appropriate pace until it was time to prepare dinner and then left the library.
I put on my wet cloak again and hurried back to the temple. At the entrance, Petia took my cloak.
I hung the cloak on a nail driven into the wall outside the door.
Water dripped from the hem, but since the cloak was made of monster leather, it was waterproof. My body was completely fine.
When I closed the door and entered, Petia wiped my wet face with the handkerchief she was holding and smiled.
“If the library is that good, you should go every day. I’m fine with it.”
On days with heavy snow or rain, there’s nothing I can do, so I go to the library. But outside of that, there’s always something to do.
Even in summer, the peak is crazy with snowstorms. In winter it’s perfect for getting lost.
Before that, I had to build as comfortable a shelter as possible. It was the basics of survival games, after all—serious construction.
Moreover, I had to protect NPCs who were almost useless. I had to feed and keep them alive.
“I came to this temple to receive lessons while serving as Priestess. I can’t neglect my duties.”
In the morning I had prepared salad and soup, and I had also prepared sandwich ingredients.
Just as I was about to have a simple sandwich, herb-infused water, and apple tart for dinner,
someone knocked on the door of our house, no, the temple.
“I’ll go check.”
Petia got up while munching on her sandwich like a baby bird. When she opened the door, a cold gust rushed in.
“…Who is it?”
Outside the door was a boy.
When I looked up, his wet hood had slipped back, revealing his wet face.
Tears like raindrops fell from the tips of his long eyelashes. It looked unreal. That boy was so beautiful.
Snow-white face, jet-black hair, and purple eyes.
His gaze asked who I was, as if he had seen a familiar face before.
No, I came to the temple, so why are you asking who I am?
Confused, I blinked, and Petia, curious about the visitor, came over.
The moment she saw the boy,
“Damian!”
she screamed and ran toward him.
Aha, she knew him. Unexpected. The instant I thought it, the boy named Damian collapsed toward me.