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Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Contrary to what the parrots around Baiyi thought, he had no plans to capture this angel. Although the girl that Noirciel had possessed was more delicious than Lulu — especially those bare feet over the edge of the clocktower’s observation deck and her silk ribbon-like silver hair, which was fluttering gently in the wind — Baiyi knew she was still an angel!
“You think she’s still the darling you met in the past, don’t you?” The Archmage asked.
“So?”
“So, if she was responsible for your sudden travel back to the present, then she’s the best lead you have in the case of Mia’s disappearance, no? If you think this angel is that Noirc- whachamacallit , then you should find a chance to talk to her,” the Archmage said.
‘It’s rare to see you being helpful,’ Baiyi glanced at his teacher, who was also being usually supportive, albeit indirectly, of his girl-collecting hobby.
“That makes sense; the thought had already crossed my mind. The problem is how difficult she is to defeat; you did see the fight I had with her, did you not?” Baiyi replied. “Mia’s not with me right now, and without her… Laeticia and the Ember of Hope alone might not provide enough power for me.”
“I noticed that she was not hostile toward you. Is it because she thought you are the messenger of that Nehemiah guy? I think you can use that to your advantage; you may not even need to fight her,” said the Soul Armature Practitioner, offering a better suggestion.
“How optimistic can you be to think such a ruse would last? Does anyone here even know who the Nehemiah person is?”
Even the Voidwalkers that knew a thing or two about gods shook their heads sideways. If they did not know, then it was safe to say no one else did.
“Wait.” The Cleric Walker gasped. “It’s not the War God?”
“He did not react as though Nehemiah is his name,” Baiyi replied, recalling how the War God had reacted to the name. The god claimed to not know who Nehemiah was. Was the War God being sincere or just pretending?
Without looking away from the other Voidwalkers, Baiyi reached out and grabbed Attie.
Attie — who was not interested in the discussion taking place — Santa, and Anna had been riding Zakum the fox. Like bad news, the girls had been making a racket, forcing the poor fox to leap over the furniture multiple times.
“Don’t you think you’re too old for this?” Baiyi poked Attie’s cheek. “Anyway, do you know your god’s name?”
Attie shook her head sideways. “No. The War God has never mentioned his name.”
“Fine. Go, but please stop torturing that animal. You should ride Mordred, instead,” Baiyi said and released the girl. That was a veiled attempt to get Attie and the other two to leave the room; their racket was starting to get annoying.
“My good sir! Why bother with all this when, in order to tell a convincing lie, you don’t really need to know who Nehemiah is? Most times, all you need is a name. Besides, she’s scatterbrained, isn’t she? There’s no need to plan so carefully when you want to deal with a bimbo. I’ll gladly craft an excellent pair of wings of you; things like this are my specialty, after all!” The Charlatan Walker said. “Throughout my illustrious career, I charmed a great many people, but never did I attempt to trick an angel. People say that otherworld beings see through everything, but does that include my schemes, though? How exciting!”
‘Yea, except that you’ve failed before, causing her to one-shot you instantly. Exciting ,’ Baiyi sneered in his mind. However, he did not reject the Charlatan Walker’s offer, as it could end up being useful.
Taking a leaf from the Charlatan Walker’s book, other Voidwalkers offered suggestions containing plans centered on their area of expertise.
One Voidwalker suggested that Baiyi distract the angel, allowing the Hitman to sneak up behind her and knock her out with a kung-fu chop!
Another Voidwalker suggested that Baiyi introduce the angel to web novels, anime, and video games, and watch her deteriorate into an otaku.
Some Voiwalkers asked Baiyi to grab the angel by the collar, thus asserting his position as her master. Afterward, she would have to obey his every wish, thus becoming his plaything.
Other Voidwalkers decided to up the ante with their suggestion: Baiyi should elongate his arms and turn them black; the closer they resembled tentacles, the better.
Someone asked Baiyi to summon a demon by spending real money on microtransactions in a mobile game…
‘None of these suggestions are worth s**t!’ Baiyi groaned.
Was the real challenge not getting close to the angel unseen? The Church treated her like a secret, and from the look of things, his best bet would be to raid the Holy City and abduct her. Even though that would not be difficult for Baiyi to do, how would then deal with the stain such an act would leave on his reputation? Baiyi could only imagine the headlines that newspapers would print if he did that: ‘You will NOT believe this…’ ‘Ten Truths About Voidwalkers They DON’T Want You To Know! Number one will SHOCK YOU!’
At that moment, Tisdale called, bearing some good news. Some nobles had invited Baiyi to an evening event.
Normally, such invitations were considered bothersome, and Tisdale would reject them all, except for the invitations she thought would interest Baiyi. Because Baiyi rejected almost every invitation sent to him, many nobles caught on and stopped trying to gain his attention this way. Afterward, when more than one invitation was sent, they would be stuffed into one envelope, making it easier for Baiyi to dispose of.
This time, however, these nobles had employed a new method. There was a sudden wave of ceremonies being held: coming-of-age ceremonies for a noble’s first son; a ceremony for the choosing of a noble family’s next family head; auctions by noble families, where many items of luxury are sold. Strangely, all these events were being held in the same city, on the same day, and at the same period: different times between noon and late evening. These events, which contained a variety of activities, were being held in the Holy City.
As a show of sincerity, every noble hosting an event sent someone over to deliver their invitation. Butlers, servants, heirs, and even family heads came to deliver these invitations. Tisdale spent all afternoon attending to every one of them.
The reason for their invitation could not be any clearer. As these events were being held so close to Holy City, it was evident that these nobles were offering themselves as bait for an ambush.
“What do we do, sir?” Tisdale, who was on the other end of the communication-magic call, asked.
“Before that, did anyone ask for your hand in marriage?”
“What?! Of course not! Well, no…” Tisdale sounded flustered and a little sad.
“Great! Then, tell them I’ll consider it,” Baiyi replied, smiling.
Before Baiyi hung up, the Archmage was chuckling. He had gone through all the invitations. “Ha! Their intentions are so clear, it’s ipso facto !”
‘Can you not make a fool of yourself by using phrases from Earth when you don’t know what they mean?’
“Well, if they’re offering us an opening, why don’t we just take it?” The Hitman Walker asked.
‘See? Now that’s how you use your brain!’
News that Baiyi might attend any one of these events soon reached the Church, sparing the Pope and his supporters a headache. They did not think they could handle another migraine after losing so much sleep over Noirciel.
The attention of many shifted to the High Priest, and someone bellowed, “Do you know how much money we had to spend to get these group of hedonistic nobles to help?!”
The High Priest could only stare at them gloomily. What did any of that have to do with him?
“How about you understand that we were forced to resort to this because the angel you summoned is annoyingly useless!” The Chief Juge growled.
“I’m more worried that this might be the edge of a slippery slope,” the archbishop of Canningham muttered. He was one of the candidates to become the next pope, but he was no younger than the High Priest.
His pessimism had re-opened a hole that the Pope had tried so hard to cover. For the sake of their cause — to banish all heretics — the Church used up a lot of its resources to summon an angel, but the angel they got was useless and crazy. To make something of their last investment, the Church was forced to spend more money, to bribe some nobles over to their side.
What if this angel, who could not even fly, was not strong enough to land a blow on their nemesis? How much more would the Church have to spend to lessen the impact of this fiasco?
If everyone in the room was allowed to voice their thoughts, they would roar deafeningly about how much of a fraud this angel was. What had she done since she arrived in Isythre? Nothing! The angel had spent every second daydreaming!
The Pope wished they had summoned a muscular angel with steel-like abs. He would be happy to take a bear-like bodybuilding angel over the useless angel, any day!
Only the High Priest stood up for Noirciel. “Listen, none of you spoken to Lady Noirciel. You don’t know how calm and easygoing she is. Even if you only consider her strange, you cannot deny that she is powerful. Can you pretend that you don’t sense her Divine Energy from here?”
“Cease your useless babblings. I want you to get your a*s ready for the next summoning!” The Pope snarled.
The High Priest eyed him steelily. “You have blasphemed against the gods.”
“This I confess to. However, to achieve our righteous cause to destroy evil and rid the world of corruption, I have had to forego the arbitrary boundaries,” the Pope solemnly replied. “When this is over, I’ll pray for the gods for punishment; they can do so however they see fit.”
The High Priest shook his head and turned around, ready to leave, but before he left, he said, “Before this, none of you gentlemen have ever seen an angel before. Think about this: what will we record about Lady Noirciel’s descent for future generations?”
Everyone else in the room was stunned silent. The meaning behind the High Priest’s words was clear: what if all angels are like this? What if the next angel they summon, or the one after that, is no different from Noirciel?
It was a troubling question that no one wanted to answer.
Noirciel had answered this question, though. After being indirectly asked the same question over and over again by the High Priest, she sincerely replied, “Do not worry; no one in the realm of gods shares my brand of deformity. Verily, the purpose for my descent is to get restored to normal; normal as you all know my kind to be.”
For some reason, those words made the High Priest’s heart lurch.