Chapter 352: That Sentence

“Th-thanks... for waiting.”

Standing before Emiel Church, Muen—who had been waiting—turned his head toward that nightingale-sweet voice.

Then his breath unconsciously hitched.

Early spring, clear skies.

Gentle sunlight poured over everything equally, after passing the merciful Goddess’s statue.

Before him lay the famed “Path of Devotion,” where countless believers came to worship every day; the sun spilled across the steps, shining like white jade.

Yet at this moment, whether that warm sun, the white jade, or the statue of the Goddess—each seemed to dim the instant the girl stepped out from the shadows.

She wore a gosling-yellow long dress; the delicate hem was trimmed with layered ruffles, her waist lightly cinched with a ribbon—slender to an armful—and it all the more set off the fullness at her chest.

Below the skirt were plump long legs wrapped in black thigh-highs; when she moved and the hem fluttered up, one could faintly glimpse the shallow indentations the stockings pressed into her thighs.

“I... I didn’t come late, did I?”

The girl stopped before Muen. The hair at her temples had been carefully braided into two tiny plaits that swayed playfully. A fine sheen of sweat beaded her forehead, brighter than spring itself.

“No, it’s just, you...”

Muen suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

Liya now seemed unlike the Liya from before. In his memory, she had never been one to dress up. Apart from that time in the restaurant, and last night, she always wore a simple, plain white dress.

But today she had clearly put thought into her appearance, and seemed to have applied light makeup; a different charm showed upon that cute face.

The stark contrast drew Muen in almost instantly; he could hardly look away.

“W-what... what is it? Is there something strange?”

Liya’s fingers wound around the little braids by her ear. Her bitten lip and those mist-soft eyes held both unease and anticipation.

“No. You look beautiful.”

Muen took a deep breath, suppressing the ripples that had been rising more and more often in his heart lately, and praised her:

“You’re especially lovely today, Liya.”

This wasn’t a perfunctory compliment; it was fact. The girl before his eyes was so cute that she could set anyone’s heart aflutter.

“R-really?”

The unease in Liya’s heart instantly diffused into joy.

Upon those white-jade steps, quite a few devout pilgrims, drawn by this blooming sight, halted of their own accord, forgetting their god for the moment as they cast stunned glances her way.

“Ah.”

Liya came back to herself, cheeks pink, and said bashfully:

“I-it’s not what you think. I didn’t dress like this because you invited me, but because of the things those people said before, so I thought—as a Saintess candidate—I should at least pay a little attention to my image...”

“Mhm. I know.” Muen smiled.

“I’m not arrogant enough to think my charm reaches that far.”

His handsome smile shone brighter than the sun.

Yet to Liya, the scenery around them dimmed. Obviously she had worked hard to explain, and yet some feeling in her heart still, involuntarily...

“But...”

Muen turned his head; his voice drifted on the breeze, revealing no other emotion:

“I happen to think that even without dressing up, Liya is very pretty—prettier than anyone else...”

“Mm...”

Liya lowered her head and answered softly.

Color spread like a wash; in the Holy City of early spring, the view was delightful.

...

...

“Right—since we’re out for ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) a stroll, where exactly did you want to go?”

“Well, I’m not familiar with the Holy City either; I’ll rely on you as my guide. I’d just like to buy some alchemical tools and magic scrolls to prepare for the ceremony first.”

“I do remember there used to be a whole street selling those, but my memories of the Holy City are from years ago. I don’t know if things have changed.”

“Let’s just go have a look. We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Mhm.”

The Holy City’s streets weren’t as broad as Belrand’s, nor were they crowded with carriages and foot traffic like Belrand.

But this thousand-year-old ancient city brimmed everywhere with the flavor of time. The old buildings were carved with patterns praising the gods; robed clergy passed by and would sometimes smile at the two who were strolling and step up to preach.

Only, when they saw the emblem of Emiel Grand Cathedral on Liya, they would leave with regret on their faces and continue seeking someone else to evangelize.

On the main street, Temple Knights in heavy armor patrolled with imposing presence.

Guiding Muen, Liya stepped into a shop that looked rather elegantly appointed. In a corner of the signboard, Muen saw the mark of the Stone Cauldron Society.

“A subsidiary shop of the Stone Cauldron Society?”

“Mhm. You’d probably look down on the street-stall stuff, right?”

“Not entirely.”

If he had a protagonist’s heaven-defying luck, street stalls might be the best place—who knows what incredible treasure he might pick up.

Unfortunately he didn’t, so he could only obediently spend money on official goods.

“What can I get you, guests?”

A professional smile on her face, the shopgirl—wearing the Stone Cauldron Society’s emblem at her chest—still froze for a beat when she saw Muen and Liya come in.

Stunned by their looks.

The young man, handsome; the girl, charming and cute. The two of them together—brighter than anything, even in the Holy City bathed in sacred light.

“What would Liya like?”

Ignoring the clerk’s lapse in manners, Muen stroked his chin and looked at Liya beside him. “We agreed this was compensation for before. Pick whatever—you choose, I’ll pay.”

“Mm...”

With all kinds of alchemical tools and magi-devices displayed on the counters and walls, Liya’s eyes were dazzled. After thinking carefully for a moment:

“Then... I’ll have this.”

Her white, scallion-slender finger pointed to a black iron plate. Muen’s gaze followed. According to the description, it was an alchemical metal that could store mana and be engraved with arrays.

“And what else?”

Muen smiled. “If you only choose one thing, and something so cheap, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“T-then... add this one, this one, and this one.”

Liya hesitated, then pointed to a few mana crystals, some blank magic scrolls, and several strange metals.

“Mhm, alright.”

Muen looked to the clerk. “Everything she pointed at—switch to the best quality. Ten sets of each. Wrap them.”

“T—ten...”

The shopgirl’s eyes flew wide, openly wearing the look of someone witnessing a rich man courting a girl.

“W-wait, there’s no need for so much...”

“Liya.”

Muen turned back, very serious:

“I’m doing this for myself, not for you.”

“Eh?”

“We’re partners now. If you can get a bit stronger, I’ll feel more at ease. Don’t tell me you thought I was spending all this just to win your favor.”

Under the clerk’s isn’t that exactly it? look, Liya sank into thought.

It... does kind of make sense.

But it still feels like something’s off?

A-anyway, since Muen put it that way, she had no reason to refuse.

The clerk swiftly wrapped the items Muen had specified in beautiful packaging—handing them to Liya as quickly as if afraid he’d come to his senses and back out. When Liya took the parcels in a daze, her small hands trembled slightly.

Even as a Saintess candidate, the Church gave very little support in these areas. These top-tier materials—she had only ever seen them in books!

She had never fought so “rich” a battle. The Saintess’s seat—already in the bag for me, Liya Angel!

Liya’s eyes spiraled like mosquito coils, and she fell into a cute little daydream.

“Do you need anything else, sir?” After finishing Liya’s bundle, the shopgirl respectfully remained by Muen’s side, patiently explaining the functions of one item after another. The standard snooty-clerk scene from novels did not occur—the gold thread set into Muen’s collar and the poise in his every move were already proof enough of his uncommon status.

“Mmm...”

Muen rubbed his chin in thought, then suddenly leaned closer and lowered his voice:

“Do you... have the kind of items you can’t sell?”

“Eh?”

The shopgirl blinked.

“C-can’t sell?”

“The kind where the moment you put it out, the Temple Knights would haul you off.” Muen asked with a perfectly straight face.

“The moment we put it out, we’d be hauled off...”

Gazing at Muen’s striking face so close, the shopgirl seemed to think of something. A blush shot across her cheeks as she refused emphatically:

“I’m sorry, sir, but this is a legitimate shop! W-we only sell legitimate goods. Those items... those, um, naughty props—we absolutely don’t have them!”

“...You don’t? What a shame... Wait—naughty?”

Muen snapped to, eyes wide. “When did I ever say I wanted to buy that!”

“Eh, you didn’t? I thought you wanted something to, um, flirt with your girlfriend...” The shopgirl sneaked a glance at the girl with her head lowered—whose cheeks, one could tell, were also faintly red.

“No, and we’re not in that kind of relationship.”

It took a lot of work for Muen to convince the disbelieving clerk about his and Liya’s relationship—and to explain exactly what kind of “can’t be sold” items he actually wanted.

Unsurprisingly, he got a negative answer.

“Apologies, sir.”

The shopgirl’s expression was more serious than at any time before:

“This is the Holy City.”

“As expected... huh?”

Muen wasn’t surprised in the least.

In a place like the Holy City, the control over contraband tools far exceeded anywhere else.

Even if darkness still brewed beneath this land bathed in endless light, Muen—freshly arrived—was in no position to wade in.

Belrand really was better. There, with a little effort, he could “happen” to scrounge up a few decommissioned military magi-cannons.

Here, even buying high-power magic scrolls required reporting to the Temple Knights.

Muen couldn’t help a wistful sigh.

It seemed that, aside from having a bit of stinking money, being a duke’s son was utterly useless in the Holy City.

Good thing the Imperial Bank had a branch here—otherwise he wouldn’t even have the stinking money.

“In that case... I’ll have to make do.”

Anything more advanced was beyond his current level to wield; and the things he could wield—besides those strictly controlled by every nation—wouldn’t give him much of an edge.

Unable to buy what he wanted, Muen let his gaze settle on the section with the shop’s best goods that would only be so-so for him—and swept it perfunctorily.

“This one, this one, and this one...”

The shopgirl nodded repeatedly and carefully jotted down Muen’s requests in her little notebook.

“Wrap up everything except the ones I just said not to.”

Clack. The notebook fell to the floor. The shopgirl thought she was dreaming.

...

...

After a short wait, Muen accepted the complimentary space magi-device from the shopgirl’s trembling hands. Swiping his card, he sighed, “Looks like I’ll have to sell one of Dad’s manors again.”

Then he hustled Liya off to the next shop.

The shops that followed all sold much the same things, and some were even inferior in quality. No matter how prodigal he was, Muen had no desire to buy more—he only skimmed casually and then forced a few items onto Liya.

By noon, it was actually Muen who led Liya to a restaurant that was decent enough.

On an outing with a girl, most destinations could be the lady’s choice—but the restaurant was the place to display a gentleman’s cultivation and preparation; it was the last bastion that determined victory or defeat. — Belrand Dating Guide

Though this wasn’t a date, Muen felt the same principles applied.

The restaurant’s ambiance was pleasant, the music refined, and at its center stood a statue of the merciful Goddess.

While they waited for the food, Muen took out a newspaper he’d casually bought from a roadside stall.

“What are you reading?”

Curious, Liya leaned in.

“Intel.”

Muen glanced at how close Liya had come and spread the newspaper on the table:

“We’ve got to get a read on our opponents, right?”

The paper devoted pages and pages to outstanding participants in this Baptism Ceremony—like the Headsman of the Kingdom of Slavell, the Wandering Swordsman of the Principality of Saigon, and the Chanter of Ailierze...

Of course, most of the ink went to the Saintess and the God-Servant Knights. Their past exploits were dug up one by one; feats that ordinary people could only look up to for a lifetime were, at this moment, reduced to simple lines of print.

“‘At thirteen, slew the legendary Lake Hag; at seventeen, fought a Tyrant-class magical beast alone; undefeated since her rise’... One scarier than the last.”

Muen sipped the coffee the waiter had brought in advance, sighing in admiration.

“But... I shouldn’t be that bad either.”

Though he had nothing much to put on the public record so far, he’d put on such a big act before that his write-up shouldn’t be too embarrassing.

With that in mind, Muen finally turned to the page introducing himself...

“‘Scumbag.’

‘Pretty boy of the Ice Witch.’

‘Silk-stocking fetish wastrel son.’

‘Two-timing (multi-boating) cad.’

‘Dreadnought-class warship sinker.’

‘Naked man sprinting at midnight...’

‘According to a certain Mr. Pink Bear who wishes to remain anonymous: in short—trash. Very trash. Girls, do not be fooled by his looks...’”

“...”

“...Damn it!”

Muen slammed the newspaper, furious:

“I’m at least the guy who went one-versus-four at the academy—why is it all this kind of stuff! Is there no cooler title? Something like ‘The Blond Campbell’?!”

“Um...”

Blushing, Liya shifted her eyes away from the mosaic-censored half-photo on the page. After fidgeting for a while, as if finally making up her mind, she balled her fists and cheered him on sweetly:

“It’s okay, Muen. I know you’re not that kind of person—these are all rumors about you!”

“No matter what others say, I’ll stand by your side!”

“Mm... so bright.”

Under the girl’s gentleness, Muen was moved to tears.

But he didn’t dare answer.

Because even if that write-up was over the line, Muen couldn’t deny that... it had a tiny bit of truth.

Mm, just a tiny bit.

“A-anyway, let’s eat first.”

While they’d been reading, dishes had arrived one after another.

The starters were North Weir-style cod chowder with Gulant baked snails.

The main was a thick-cut Budohir filet mignon.

Dessert was...

“Panini cake!”

Childlike delight sparkled in Liya’s eyes—more than the two pricey dishes before had inspired.

“You like Panini cake?”

“Mhm.”

Scooping up a bite with a silver spoon and putting it in her mouth, Liya’s cheeks instantly showed a look of pure satisfaction.

“Ariel loves this, so I ended up liking it too... But I’m the type who gains weight easily, and Panini cake is expensive, so I don’t eat it very often.”

Enjoying while also fretting, Liya reminded herself not to eat too much—or her new clothes wouldn’t fit again.

“I see...”

Muen stroked his chin, thinking. “Since you like Panini cake, you might like this one too.”

He beckoned the waiter over and whispered a few words.

Before long, a new cake was placed before Liya.

“What’s this?”

“Try it?”

Liya scooped a tentative spoonful into her small mouth and then... her eyes lit up.

“S-so good!”

The taste was close to Panini cake, but the heavy creaminess was replaced by a fruit-like light sweetness, giving a wholly different experience.

“It was invented by the same master pâtissier. It’s called ‘Pasni,’ but compared to Panini cake, it isn’t nearly as famous.”

Muen smiled and explained:

“But I personally prefer Pasni’s flavor. And because the ingredients differ, compared to Panini... mm, Pasni won’t make you gain weight so easily.”

“Not easy to gain weight—that means...”

“Eat as much as you like.”

Propping his chin, Muen murmured like a devil:

“Do you like it, Miss Liya?”

“...I do.”

In her sight, it was as if countless flowers were blooming around that handsome face.

In a daze, Liya bumped Pasni cake up to number one on her list of favorite foods and whispered:

“Love it.”

...

Leaving the restaurant, the two continued strolling along by Liya’s memory.

Even without paying special attention, both could clearly sense the different air all around.

With the Baptism Ceremony near and the ancient ruin about to open, everyone was coiled tight with energy... yet the two of them were out shopping?

It felt as thrilling as sneaking off campus to play games right before final exams in his previous life.

That odd thought popped up in Muen’s head. He looked to Liya beside him. “Anywhere else worth—”

Liya was spacing out too.

Following her gaze, Muen saw an old bookstore. Its signboard was clean and neat, gleaming in the sunlight.

“A bookstore? Looks nice. Let’s go in.”

“Eh—n-no need...”

Liya came back to herself and shook her head:

“We shouldn’t spend important preparation time on—”

“This is important preparation too.”

Before she could finish, Muen had already pushed open the door.

The windbell above it chimed pleasantly. Behind the counter, a dozy old lady glanced at Muen and Liya as they entered, then closed her eyes again to nap.

“Bigger than I expected.”

Muen looked around the shop. The seemingly cramped shelves were packed with all kinds of books—new ones, and old ones with scuffed covers and the marks of time.

There were no other customers.

“This is my first time... like this...”

Trailing behind Muen, Liya brushed a fingertip along the books, small sparks of joy in her eyes.

“You’ve never browsed a bookstore?” Muen asked, puzzled.

“N-no... just not like this...”

Softly, Liya said, “Ariel was always busy before, so whenever I went out with her, I’d decide the books I needed in advance and buy them directly. I never... leisurely looked through books like this.”

“That so?”

Muen slid a book from the shelf and flipped it open, then turned to look at her:

“Then let’s spend the afternoon here.”

“Eh—n-no, we can’t... Muen, don’t you still have things you need—”

“I already bought what I need.”

Taking the book, Muen walked to the seat by the window and looked back with a smile:

“I was just wondering what to do with the long stretch of time ahead. It’s great we found a shop you like.”

“...”

His smile was dazzling.

That annoying thump-thump started again.

Her reason told her to refuse, but when she came back to herself, Liya found she had already, without noticing, sat beside Muen—holding a book she’d never even heard of.

“Is this okay? The Baptism Ceremony is in a few days. Preparation—”

“Haven’t you been preparing for years already? Every day, all those past years.”

Turning a page, Muen said quietly:

“That’s enough.”

“Enough...?”

“Mhm. I believe in you, Liya.”

“...”

He had said the same words many times before, but this time, Liya felt especially flustered and couldn’t think how to respond.

So she opened her book and forced herself to sink into the words.

Only, her gaze kept drifting off the page to the side.

The sun slanted; deepening hues of light fell through the window onto his profile, giving it a soft, saintly halo.

A face she saw often and knew well—and yet, for some reason, far more compelling than the books she had always loved, than the words she had always loved.

The stories and knowledge on the page suddenly felt dull.

The fluttering in her chest hadn’t ceased; instead it urged her on, pushing her to say something she absolutely must not say.

In the distance, the Church’s bells rang, seeming to warn her that time was slipping away.

“Muen...” Liya’s voice was low and husky.

“Mhm?”

Muen turned. Sunlight left a half-shadow on his face; he still smiled:

“What is it?”

“I...”

“Ah—it’s the Saintess!”

A sudden exclamation cut off the words on Liya’s lips.

Outside the window, the crowd grew excited.

Surrounded by clergy, a luxurious palanquin moved down the middle of the street.

Within the white gauze, the current Saintess sat with poise, shrouded in endless holy, immaculate light.

Fanatical believers knelt before her; the crowd cheered her name. She was engulfed and borne along by a tide of people.

But in Liya’s eyes, she seemed to be in the highest—and loneliest—place in the world.

There was no one at her side.

“Really is exhausting, isn’t it.”

Muen’s gaze, too, had been drawn to the Saintess’s palanquin, but he soon turned back and looked at the girl again:

“Right—what were you about to say?”

“Ah, I... I wanted to say...”

Liya looked at her hand. A moment ago, that hand had reached out, as if to grasp something. Now she drew a deep breath and clenched it.

“I wanted to say...”

Tilting her head, Liya showed a bewitching smile:

“Good luck in the Baptism Ceremony.”

“...”

Muen paused for a moment. Reflected in his eyes was that impossibly cute face—glimmering with a different kind of light.

But the light quickly drew in. He smiled as well and bumped fists with Liya:

“Mhm. Good luck.”