“Brother Erik, that woman is back from Sculling Town. She’s already meeting with the leaders of the Night-Watchers from the four neighboring towns. They’re planning to issue a ‘Gold Prohibition Order’ to kick us all out and force us back into being manual laborers.”
“Four towns? Has she lost her mind? People have been prospecting for gold in these parts for over a hundred years. She wants to ban it all?”
“Exactly.”
“Has the ban been issued yet?”
“Not yet. They’re still testing the waters with public opinion. At most half a month, at least three to five days, and they’ll make their move.”
“So after the negotiations failed, she just gave up on talking to us entirely? She’s dead set on dismantling the prospector teams. That woman is a total lunatic. Who in their right mind destroys the primary profession of half the young men in their own town? Besides, digging for gold is way more profitable than harvesting acorns.”
“I heard she convinced the high brass of the Explorers’ Guild to help uproot us. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have the authority to lead a meeting like that, let alone convince the leaders of the other towns to change their minds.”
“We need to move quickly, then…”
The conversation dissolved into a series of guttural, incomprehensible clicks and gurgles. It was impossible to tell what they were plotting next.
“How disgusting… that fishy stench on them. I want to stuff them all into the sewers…” Lilith’s face was dark with revulsion. She caught a scent that an ordinary person would have missed, her fingers twisting her wand beneath the table.
“Tch!” Wang Yue frowned slightly, offering a sharp reprimand. “As a combatant, how can you not endure a little smell?”
“The Great God is right,” Lilith whispered, bowing her head in silence.
Wang Yue wasn’t trying to flirt with death by repeatedly testing the yandere girl’s patience. Rather, she had begun to realize that Lilith was physically incapable of “blasphemy.”
The logic was simple: the moment Lilith harbored a genuine intent to commit sacrilege, she would lose her faith. Without faith, she would lose her mana. Since Wang Yue perfectly countered her Mystic Arts, and with the Crow Sentinels keeping watch, Lilith stood no chance in a direct confrontation.
In other words, even if Lilith’s head was filled with twisted, obsessive thoughts, she couldn’t actually act on them.
She was like C4 explosive without a detonator. You could knead her, press her, stretch her, or mold her into a little clay figure and paint her—no matter what you did, she wouldn’t explode.
Wang Yue felt lucky to have escaped her predicament, but at the same time, she felt a pang of pity for Lilith. The girl was trapped in a perpetual state of yandere suppression, forced to use immense willpower to restrain her own actions. Her reason and her emotions were locked in a violent, bloody struggle. No matter who won, her overflowing desires would never find an outlet.
Wang Yue stole a glance at her. Good heavens, her face is almost contorting from the effort of holding it in. Her lips were trembling slightly, her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, and she looked utterly aggrieved. It must be hard to keep it all bottled up, huh?
Heh heh…
Wang Yue let out a somewhat uncharitable snicker. Her courage grew, and she decided to lean into her role as a deity.
She tilted her chin up slightly, revealing a flash of pale skin at her neck and collar. Her Eboshi cap pressed down on her bangs, and the silk cords draped past her ears. Her delicate, refined face held a mix of elegance, arrogance, and a touch of playfulness.
Raising her wide, flowing sleeve, she mimicked Lilith’s old habit and pointed forward. “Let’s go back!”
“Eh? We’re going back already?”
“It’s nearly midnight. The shops are all closing, and there’s nothing left to see. I don’t have a lead yet, so I might as well wait for the coin to recharge.”
With that, Wang Yue stood up and walked toward the exit, completely ignoring Lilith’s expression.
As she walked, however, she realized something was wrong.
Huh?
She wasn’t moving forward.
Her Geta sandals were scuffing against the floor, but she remained in place, as if she were on a treadmill.
A ghostly voice drifted from behind her.
“The Great God’s precious feet must not tread upon these filthy streets. Allow me to serve as your carriage!”
Before the words had even finished, Wang Yue felt herself flip and fly into Lilith’s arms, where she was held in a firm, steady embrace.
Seeing that such an offensive move hadn’t triggered a disconnect in her faith, Wang Yue was so stunned she couldn’t say a word.
She knitted her brows, thinking hard. The mechanic must work like this: the process doesn’t matter as much as the intent.
As long as the ultimate goal was perceived as being for the “Great God’s benefit,” Lilith wouldn’t lose her faith.
It seemed it was a false alarm. Lilith could only serve and cater to her like a true shrine maiden; she couldn’t do anything truly “naughty.”
Wang Yue felt a mix of relief and a strange, lingering melancholy. For some reason, it felt like fate was constantly mocking Lilith—always bringing her within an inch of what she wanted, only for it to vanish like smoke the moment her fingertips brushed against it.
Lilith was unusually quiet. She held the black-haired girl in her arms with the utmost tenderness, as if she were cradling the entire world.
