Veronica quickly let go of Greg's hand, took a half-step back, and lowered her head in embarrassment. Her voice carried a rare trace of panic:
“I-I am so sorry, Lord Greg! Because your soul is that of Lady Zeyn, I accidentally treated you like a fellow sister of the faith... I-I did not mean to offend you...”
At this moment, Veronica’s face was flushed crimson, and her eyes darted away. Gone was the scheming, in-control demeanor she had shown earlier; instead, she looked like a little girl who had accidentally done something wrong.
Watching her reaction, Greg quickly made an assessment.
It seemed Veronica had very little experience interacting with men. Her gesture just now was purely a habit born from her perception of him as Zeyn Hardy, a female Heroic Spirit.
To prevent any future awkwardness between them that might disrupt his plans, Greg immediately spoke up to smooth things over:
“It is quite all right. Honestly, since recovering the memories of my past life, I still have not fully adjusted to this male body myself. There is absolutely no issue with you treating me as a woman.”
Hearing this, Veronica looked up, a hint of surprise and gratitude shining in her starlike eyes. “Really...?”
“Of course.”
Greg nodded with a smile, his tone relaxed and natural.
“After all, gender is not what matters to me. What truly matters is our shared faith and goal, is it not?”
Veronica stared at him blankly, a sudden, unspeakable emotion welling up in her heart.
She had always believed her devotion to the Goddess of Light was absolute, but the person before her...
This Heroic Spirit, who had once fought for Lady Serafina in ancient times, showed her an entirely different level of devotion.
In the currently decaying state of the religious order, such pure, unadulterated faith touched her in a way she had not felt in a very long time.
She took a deep breath, then nodded solemnly:
“I understand. In that case, I will do my best to learn from you, Lord Greg—to learn how to free myself from worldly forms and focus purely on faith itself!”
Greg nodded with a smile, inwardly sighing in relief.
It seemed he had successfully cleared this hurdle.
After bidding Veronica farewell, Greg turned and left the room alongside Olivia.
Once they stepped out and turned a corner, they were the only two left in the corridor.
Olivia remained silent for a moment before she could not help but speak up:
“You cunning rascal, you really should have been a merchant. I feel like even the Roman family is not as good at business as you. You are so smooth-tongued that you have the current Saintess of the Church of Light wrapped around your little finger.”
She sighed, rubbing her temples:
“Oh well. Since things have come to this, I can only keep walking this dark path with you. If the truth gets out, at worst, I will just go become a bandit... ah, no, a cowboy in the mountains. They certainly will not be able to do anything to me then.”
Greg chuckled, offering some reassurance:
“Do not worry, Headmistress. Things have not reached the worst-case scenario yet. Who knows? This might turn out to be an excellent investment for you.”
Olivia rolled her eyes at him, completely unconvinced that Greg could come out of this unscathed.
Seeing her reaction, Greg could only shake his head helplessly.
It seemed that while the Headmistress was a cowboy at heart, she was no gambler; she did not understand the logic of 'all or nothing.'
He turned his head and looked through the window at the end of the corridor, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon outside the tower.
An orange-red glow bathed the land, painting the entire Imperial Capital in warm colors.
He estimated the time and thought to himself:
“Allie and the others should be arriving right about now. If so, they should be just in time.”
...
At dusk, the gates of the Imperial Capital cast long shadows under the setting sun.
People entering and leaving the city formed two loose lines as the gate guards inspected the identification of each passerby.
In the queue, two figures wearing dark hooded cloaks caught the guards' attention. Their hoods were pulled down low, almost completely concealing their faces. Their slender frames made them look somewhat out of place in the crowd.
“Hey, you two. Lower your hoods.”
A guard stepped forward, his tone carrying a routine sternness.
The two exchanged a glance, then raised their hands simultaneously to pull back their hoods.
The moment their hoods fell, the surrounding guards froze.
Revealed were two exceptionally beautiful faces.
Identical dark-golden hair shimmered with a soft luster in the twilight, and their features were delicate and sharp, possessing a captivating charm that made it impossible to look away.
These two were none other than Allie and a lightly disguised Wendy.
Wendy had dyed her original honey-colored hair to a dark-golden hue, put on round-framed glasses, and styled her hair into twin tails—something she had never tried before. Surprisingly, it suited her incredibly well, making her look like an entirely different person.
The guards stared for a few seconds before their expressions softened with understanding. Now they knew why these two had gone out of their way to wear hoods.
Walking down the street with faces like those was practically an invitation for trouble.
After confirming they were not on any wanted lists, the guard waved them through.
The two entered the Imperial Capital with ease.
Allie walked ahead, her voice laced with a hint of smugness:
“See? I told you we wouldn't be exposed. It is perfectly normal for martial artists to get food poisoning. No one would ever suspect a thing.”
Wendy fell silent for a moment, then whispered, “...Lady Allie, perhaps we should stop bringing up the food poisoning for now.”
To be honest, even Wendy was somewhat surprised that they had entered the Imperial Capital so smoothly.
She began to wonder if the knights stationed in the mountain pass camps had no contact with the outside world at all.
Otherwise, how could they have caused such a massive ruckus without any sign of a search party or wanted posters?
Could those knights have been bandits in disguise as well?
Wendy quickly dismissed the thought.
Bandits could never acquire such complete, standard-issue equipment and supplies.
That left very few possibilities.
Connecting this with what she knew of the empire's internal situation before she left, a sudden realization dawned on her:
“Could those have been private soldiers arranged by my imperial brother?”
“It seems things have not improved at all since I left...”
Wendy's mood suddenly plummeted, and she murmured under her breath, “Is my brother really going to take that final step after all?”
But she quickly cheered herself up.
She remembered that the Bishop had sent her here with Lady Allie. This meant Allie's actions must have been part of the Bishop's plan all along.
“So the Bishop already knew that my brother was planning a rebellion... Could everything happening now be under his control?”
While Wendy wanted to believe this, she also knew that no matter how brilliant the Bishop was, it was highly unlikely he could predict things to such an absurd degree.
“Besides, the Bishop said that the Demon King Cult would frequently launch sabotage operations in the Imperial Capital during this period. Yet the capital looks so peaceful and orderly right now. How could there suddenly be—”
“BOOM—!!!”
A massive explosion echoed from not far away, cutting Wendy off mid-sentence.
Billowing black smoke rose from a building at the end of the street. Debris and dust shot into the sky as the crowd began to panic and flee in all directions.
Instead of panicking, however, Wendy's eyes grew brighter and brighter.
Looking at the rising column of smoke, a smile unconsciously tugged at the corners of her lips:
“Everything really is within the Bishop's expectations... The empire is saved!”
Rate on N.U.
