After Letia left, Red slumped onto the tavern table as if all his strength had left him.
Dealing with Letia was truly an exhausting experience.
It was just as the saying goes.
A tree without bark is doomed; a man without shame is invincible.
Letia, without a doubt, was someone who had engraved the word “invincible” into the very depths of her soul.
“Seriously… Sigh.”
A sigh heavy with endless fatigue and weariness muffled itself from the tabletop.
“Yo~”
Tos’s familiar teasing voice rang out as he strolled over at some unknown point.
He first craned his neck to glance in the direction Letia had left, then looked down at Red, who lay sprawled on the table like a puddle of mud, unable to hold back his curiosity.
“What’s up? Did a succubus drain your life force or something?”
Red struggled to push himself upright, waving his hand feebly like he’d just finished a marathon.
“Don’t mention it… I just feel… mentally drained. The kind that wears down your soul.”
“Mentally drained?”
Tos plopped down next to him and deftly ordered two pitchers of beer from the bartender.
“Is it really that bad? Letia’s a bit weird, sure, maybe a little crazy, but if you look at her face alone… tsk tsk, she’s a beauty on the rarest level! Absolutely eye candy, full marks!”
He shook his head with the air of someone appreciating fine art.
“You judge people just by their face?!”
Red couldn’t help but roll his eyes so hard it hurt, his forehead beginning to throb again.
“Well, what else am I supposed to look at?”
Instead of being ashamed, Tos straightened up with pride, beating his chest and declaring with conviction, “If you don’t look at the face, what else is there? The really interesting bits aren’t exactly something you can see in public, you know.”
He waggled his brows, his lecherous aura radiating naturally.
Listening to Tos’s words, Red couldn’t help but clutch his head.
“So… can’t I have even one somewhat decent person around me?”
“Same~”
Tos grabbed the beer the bartender handed over, downed a huge gulp, sighed contentedly, then shot Red a sidelong glance and added mercilessly, “Unlike you, we’re not so easily satisfied with just some white stockings. No matter how desperate we get, at least we won’t go after men.”
“I’ve told you so many times, that was a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!!”
Red felt his headache intensify.
Tos set down his mug, jabbed Red with his elbow, and lowered his voice slightly, sounding a bit gossipy.
“So, what was Letia scheming with you just now? Trying to rope you back into Dawnblade to work you to the bone again?”
“No, nothing like that.”
Red shook his head, took a gulp of beer to steady himself, and continued, “With her personality, she probably thinks being an adventurer is just a slacker’s job—she’d never bother trying to persuade me.”
“Hm…”
Tos listened, glanced at Red’s face, then spoke slowly, analyzing, “Honestly, if it’s about settling down, I think Letia wouldn’t be a bad choice. Personally, I don’t think she’s much worse than Rit.”
Red’s lips twitched.
He really couldn’t imagine a scene of domestic bliss with Letia.
But if she were in the position of a pet instead, maybe he could accept that.
“Red, you might be confused, but I’m actually an expert when it comes to women.”
Tos pushed up his nonexistent glasses and coolly analyzed, “I saw a bit of your expression when you were talking with Letia earlier. So, how did you feel about it?”
“Other than being mentally drained, what else could I feel?”
Red sighed, but Tos only pondered thoughtfully.
“Let’s put it this way: I think you just haven’t met enough women. Maybe you’ve been too influenced by that Dawnblade crowd. Actually, Letia’s type gets along well with people—if you just get used to it.”
“I don’t think I can ever get used to it.”
Hearing Tos, Red simply shrugged.
If he really had to choose between Litt and Letia… even hesitating for one second would be disrespectful to Litt.
“Alright, let me ask you another way. Aside from white stockings, what do you think is the most important standard for picking a wife?”
Red was silent for a long time before finally speaking.
“I can’t let go.”
Tos silently made a question mark.
“So what are you trying to say?”
“Forget it, forget it. You’ll understand one day…”
Tos was about to continue acting like some love expert when his face suddenly darkened.
“Wait, no, you probably won’t ever get it. With Litt’s temperament, she’s not the type to cling to you or throw tantrums, and Letia’s pretty much the same. She might even play along with your little games.”
At this, Tos’s expression twisted a bit.
He placed his hand on Red’s shoulder and said grimly, “So you, kid… really don’t know how good you’ve got it.”
“So Litt and I really aren’t in that kind of relationship… Anyway, about the open day event, how’s your investigation going?”
Red’s forehead was breaking out in a cold sweat.
He quickly changed the subject, feeling that continuing down this path would only lead to trouble.
“Oh, that.”
Tos returned to normal, recalling the incident and the follow-up investigation.
In the end, he shook his head in frustration.
“No progress at all. Those guys are hiding within the White Church, and we have no way of investigating inside. So we just had to let it go.”
Thinking of this, Tos seemed to remember something and said to Red, “But Mason has already analyzed the effect of that Red Potion… It’s a potion that can turn people into Demonkin.”
After a long explanation, Tos took a swig of beer to moisten his throat.
“But its performance and effects are really unstable. From what we saw, rather than turning into Demonkin, it’s more like turning into a berserk, mindless demon Monster.”
“Turning into a Monster?”
Red fell deep into thought, recalling the aura of Magic he sensed during the White Sun Dawnbreak Festival.
The Magic in the storm back then was very similar in nature to Demonkin Magic.
Plus, both incidents stemmed from the same Church.
Could there be some inevitable link between them?
***
Meanwhile, in a small house not far from the Sacred Heart Monastery of the White Church.
At this moment, two White Church clergy in standard robes sat upright at a wooden table, their faces stern.
They seemed out of place in the shabby setting, an indescribable oppression thick in the air.
Faint noises drifted from the kitchen, as if someone was cooking.
Soon, green-haired Molly came out carrying three big bowls, a faint sense of accomplishment and some odd satisfaction on her face.
She placed a bowl before each person, including herself.
Inside was plain boiled noodles in water—no oil, not even a sprinkle of scallions.
Just looking at it made it seem especially pitiful.
“Priestess, please enjoy!”
Molly puffed out her chest, her voice crisp, her tone nearly exultant as if presenting a rare delicacy.
The two White Church members glanced at the bowls, then at Molly, who stood proud as if awaiting praise, and fell silent for a long while before one of them couldn’t help but ask.
“Do you… eat this every day?”
“No, no,” to their surprise, Molly shook her head quickly.
“Normally I could never eat something this good! If it weren’t for you visiting today, I’d never have spared these noodles.”
The two Priestesses fell silent again.
After a long while, the one who had saved Molly earlier couldn’t help but ask,
“So what do you usually eat?”
“Oh, that…”
Molly pulled out a bag of potato flour from the drawer, her face lighting up with an “of course!” grin, a little smug.
“This, of course! It’s a little bland and gets boring, but it’s really cheap!”
She held up two fingers and waved them before the two clergy’s grim faces.
“Only two Lu En Coins for a huge bag!”
She stretched her arms wide to show the size.
“If I’m careful, it lasts me a whole week! Great deal, right?”
“Stop, please.”
The Priestess really couldn’t bear to watch anymore; she was starting to feel sorry for Molly.
“Don’t you two want any?”
Faced with Molly’s invitation, the two Priestesses hesitated.
To be honest, it was hard to work up an appetite for such plain noodles.
So, to save face, they both cleared their throats.
“We already ate on the way here.”
“But didn’t you just say you hadn’t?”
“You must’ve misheard,” the Priestess denied repeatedly, then coughed and quickly changed the subject.
“More importantly, it’s a pity we didn’t manage to capture that Nun during the last operation. Now the White Church is on high alert, and the Nun is being guarded tightly. Although our plan did make some progress, overall things are not in our favor.”
In the Priestess’s original plan, the Black Church was to collect Magic from Molly during the holy hymn, use it to activate the Demon Potion, and then use the chaos from triggering the Magic Array beneath the stage to kill the Nun named Litt and take the Demon Potion away in the confusion.
But for some reason, even though the Nun was directly under the explosion, she only fainted and was otherwise unharmed.
There was also an unexpected incident when transporting the Demon Potion—three burly men suddenly appeared and broke up the group, causing most of the potions to be damaged during the escape.
The potions that remained and were still intact were too few for the next step of the plan.
More importantly…
The Black Church was weak and in urgent need of more helpers and support.
This was one of the reasons they came to find Molly.
Though Molly was no longer with the White Church, her status as a free person made her an invaluable asset in finding new help for the Black Church.
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Once again, poor Molly.