Chapter 11: Pu’s alcohol tolerance is beyond imagination

Jon hurried back to the city.

By then, the sky was already half-dark, the sun sinking behind the western hills, and oppressive thunder rumbled beneath layers of black clouds.

The yawning guards at the gate barely checked him before letting Jon into the city.

Naturally, they didn’t notice that this handsome young soldier, clothes smeared with mud, was the famous Hero of the Empire.

Back at the inn, Jon set down his military bag, released the bewildered Yan Pupu, and then returned Lia to her little nest in his arms.

He had just started to take off his sweat-stained, muddy uniform when a calm, unhurried knock sounded at the door.

He opened it to find Yuna.

“Where did you go?”

The Saintess blinked her clear blue eyes, her lashes shimmering in the warm light.

“…Disaster relief.”

Jon remembered what happened that morning.

If Yuna hadn’t told him in time, Lily would have become Aelita’s lunch.

His tone unconsciously softened.

“Was it those villages flooded by the river? You must be exhausted today!”

Yuna’s face showed concern.

It was rare for anyone to worry about him.

Jon felt a gentle warmth inside.

He smiled.

“It’s fine. The villagers were enthusiastic and welcoming. Honestly, it wasn’t tiring at all.”

“I’m sorry… The Holy Army always keeps their noses in the air. Even though I can command them, I can’t force them to do what they don’t want.”

Yuna suddenly lowered her head and twisted her skirt, her voice filled with guilt.

Jon was caught off guard by the apology.

His mind went blank, and he hurried to respond.

“No, Miss Yuna, this isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Hero, do you think I’m an unworthy Saintess?”

The girl’s brows knit, her eyes brimming with tears.

“No, not at all. Really, not at all.”

Jon clumsily comforted her.

“You’re the kindest noble girl I’ve ever met. Please don’t blame yourself.”

After speaking, Jon nervously glanced around, afraid someone would see the Saintess crying in front of him.

He hesitated for a few seconds, then fully opened the door and welcomed Miss Yuna inside.

The long night, the dim lamp, a man and woman alone.

Even if they were complete strangers, such a scene would inevitably breed a trace of ambiguity.

Let alone comrades who had fought side by side for months.

In front of Jon, Yuna slowly removed her outer garment.

Only a few slender straps half-covered her fair, fragrant shoulders.

Like milky, tender fruit shedding its shell, she revealed herself bit by bit.

She elegantly gathered her long hair behind her ear, prepared her tried-and-true innocent yet seductive gaze, and raised her eyes, ready to meet the Hero’s.

But her smile suddenly froze.

On Jon’s legs, two Pupu lay sprawled, one left, one right, and with Jon, six eyes were staring at her performance in perfect unison.

The ambiguous atmosphere vanished instantly.

It even became somewhat absurd.

“…This is…”

Yuna’s face gradually stiffened.

Jon picked up the dazed little loli on his left leg and introduced her enthusiastically.

“Oh, you’ve met her before. This is Lily, my Pupu.”

“And the other one?”

“It’s my Pupu’s Pupu.”

“……”

For the first time in her life, Yuna felt such a deep hatred for Pupu.

But she quickly composed herself, restored her sweet smile, and continued to banter playfully with the Hero, rekindling the subtle intimacy.

With the victory so near, there wasn’t much time left for her.

Even though Aelita said the Hero felt no romantic attraction toward her, at this age, few boys could distinguish between lust and love.

Just toss out a little bait, stir the Hero’s shy, passionate desires, let his imagination run wild and longing grow, and what he couldn’t have would become sacred in his heart, placed atop a pedestal.

Then… all she needed to do was become the goddess of his fantasies, using tears and smiles to guide him to do anything.

The key to this trick was never letting the man actually “taste” it.

Because once he did, the illusion would fade, the goddess would fall to earth, and the man would sober up, weighing the pros and cons, and inevitably calculate, “Not worth it.”

Yuna had understood this principle since she was a child.

At age seven, her father and brother died, leaving her the poisonous title of Marquis, the last surviving orphan of House Boteruosi.

She lived as a guest in the home of her father’s old friend, Bishop Robert.

The Bishop treated her well, as if she were his own child.

But Yuna always knew she wasn’t truly Robert’s niece.

This family’s protection would disappear completely once Bishop Robert returned to Valhalla.

Only a woman standing atop a mountain could spread the goddess’s gospel.

She had to find a peak no lower than Uncle Robert’s while she was still in her prime.

The Hero was the most suitable choice.

Because the Hero had no foundation, was of common birth, ignorant of the world, and easy to control.

She begged Uncle Robert for a long time, almost exhausting all her father’s favor, just to win this opportunity, jointly recommended by the four great churches.

But she never expected—this generation’s Hero would be so exceptional.

Exceptional enough that, after seeing his training results, His Majesty personally assigned his own daughter to the Hero’s party.

Yuna’s world collapsed.

Even so, she never gave up, always seeking a chance.

She thought that, as the war with the Demon Realm dragged on for years, she’d have enough time to make the Hero fall for her.

—In the end, it took the Hero only four months to crush the Demon Realm’s main forces and behead the Demon King Ria.

The Demon Realm surrendered.

Yuna was stunned.

But as the saying goes, those who achieve greatness never give up or slack off.

Yuna didn’t lose heart at all, and quickly began a new round of actions…until today.

“Let’s have a drink.”

As the conversation grew lively, Yuna took the initiative.

Jon, however, shook his head.

“Military law forbids it. To prevent emergencies, officers above the regimental level are prohibited from drinking while on duty.”

Yuna’s deep, glimmering eyes filled with grievance.

“But I feel so helpless. So many believers are suffering, yet I can’t do anything, not even offer a little help.”

“But—”

“Please.”

Yuna pleaded.

Jon gazed into her pitiful, beautiful eyes.

He hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded lightly.

…But military orders were absolute.

He would never drink.

It was fine.

He still had two Pupu—Lily could try it for him.

As long as he was quick enough with his spell to transfer the wine, the Saintess would never notice.

Yuna happily cast a spell, pulling a bottle of red wine from the Light Prison.

There were wine glasses in the inn room.

Yuna filled them one by one, saying all the right things, praising and coaxing.

Yet, somehow, the Hero never seemed to get drunk.

Instead, the Pupu grew redder and redder.

Yuna was full of confusion.

This isn’t right.

It shouldn’t be.

This wine was concentrated.

I even added something extra.

Her own tolerance wasn’t high.

Sometimes, with no escape, she secretly used magic to send the wine into the Pupu’s body.

[Nyaaa! Enough already! If you don’t want to drink, then don’t make me!]

Lia was furious, but there was nothing she could do.

She puffed out her cheeks, burped up wine bubbles, and pouted.

Finally.

The only unfortunate soul who’d been force-fed wine all night couldn’t take it anymore.

With a ‘thump,’ Lia collapsed on the Hero’s lap, her body growing soft and melting, soaking his entire lap.

“Not good!”

Jon’s eyelid twitched.

He hurriedly refused.

“Miss Yuna, let’s stop here for tonight. My P…cough, my alcohol tolerance is terrible. Do you need me to find someone to escort you?”

Yuna’s expression grew complicated.

“No need. Good night, Hero.”

She walked to the door.

“Wait, Miss Yuna, please hold on.”

The Hero suddenly called out.

Yuna turned back in surprise, thinking he was going to ask her to stay.

Instead, he asked something completely unrelated.

“Do you know where I can collect more Demon King Jokes?”

“Demon King Jokes?”

Yuna was dumbfounded.

“Why are you collecting that?”

“My Pupu seems to like listening to them.”

“Pupu? Like? Does she even understand?”

Yuna was even more surprised.

“I don’t know. But every time I tell one, her body gets really hot.”

The Hero scratched his head awkwardly.

“I see.”

Yuna frowned.

“You should ask Aelita. Elves love those jokes. Aside from Aelita, the only ones who love them more are succubi. Demon King Jokes mostly spread from succubus shops.”

“Aelita? And succubi? Alright, I understand. Thank you, Miss Yuna.”

Seeing how polite the Hero remained, Yuna’s grievance deepened.

She sighed, turned, and opened the door.

Outside, a pale, beautiful face glared at her.

And Aelita stood next to her, grinning.

Yuna’s breath stopped for an instant.

“Dearest Sister Yuna.”

Margaret’s voice was icy cold.

“What were you doing in the Hero’s room?”