Capítulo 12: Chapter 11: Layla Is a Worrywart

Fuck, Verner saw my cut!

I'd most likely gotten hurt while falling since I'd been more focused on holding on to Verner and keeping him out of harm's way. I'd let my guard down and Verner had noticed it.

This stuff happens once in a while, right? You get a minor injury, but don't notice it until much later because it didn't hurt on the spot...

Well, that was exactly what had happened to me. Until Verner had pointed out the cut on my arm, I had no clue it was there.

Thankfully, he was the only one there. I wouldn't have managed to bamboozle a whole group, but one person was still doable. I was a master manipulator, after all.

I'd immediately healed my cut, conjured a small piece of thread—or at least something that looked like it—with my magic, and played dumb. I'd pretended I wasn't hurt at all, and Verner had bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

By the way, I'd used light magic to create that fake thread. After all, colors were just light reflected in a certain way...or something like that. I had a feeling I'd heard something like that in the past.

Anyway, the point is I'd noticed a while ago that—thanks to light magic—I could color anything the way I liked. So what I'd really done was create a small thread of red light. With the proper shading around it, it looked just like the real thing. Well, it was good enough to fool Verner, at least.

I needed to be a good schemer to play the role of the saint, so I was used to pulling stunts like this. People were eager to believe whatever they saw—or thought they saw—which meant that as long as I could use colors at will, I could easily create "miracles" for them to worship. I could single-handedly craft rainbows and auroras, so whenever I wanted to pretend the heavens were on my side, I could produce a fancy little light show in the sky.

What's that? My miracles were bogus? I was pretty sure most—if not all—miracles were just as fake!

Anyway, with that whole mess out of the way, Eterna—who had been completely out of control at the time—was now as tame as a puppy. She knelt on the floor, trembling and apologizing, her face flushed a bright red.

"How could the saint understand the feelings of the witch?!"

"HA HA HA!!!"

Fiora was imitating Eterna, while what's-his-face laughed his ass off.

As for Eterna, her face gradually grew more and more scarlet. Her shoulders shook ever so slightly, and I couldn't tell if she was about to cry or laugh. Either way, it seemed like she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

You reap what you sow, sweetheart. Also, I'm having the best time of my life looking at your embarrassed expression, hye he he. Who needs food when you can just look at Eterna's flushed face all day instead? We're eating good.

Eterna had completely misread the situation. At least, that's what Verner and I told the others when we went back. He also mimicked what Eterna had done with the knife to show everyone she wasn't the only exception. Naturally, that didn't make anyone think he was the witch. He was a man, so there was no risk.

After listening to our explanation, Eterna finally calmed down. She was deeply ashamed of her behavior, though, hence why she was currently apologizing profusely and red as a tomato.

"Still, how intriguing... To think another power that's so similar, yet different to that of the witch or the saint exists. What in the world could it be...?" Four-eyed Pervert pondered, staring at Verner.

I understood his interest. After all, Verner's existence meant that maybe—just maybe—people other than the saint had a shot at defeating the witch. The discovery of a whole new power would be huge.

Sadly for him, Verner's powers weren't new or different. The source of his magic was nothing more than a part of the witch's soul.

While the current saint-turned-witch was still fighting against the old witch's powers, she cut off a small part of her soul. It had wandered around before attaching itself to another soul—one that had yet to be born. That was how Verner, a baby boy, had ended up with dark magic.

Just like the first witch's curse, which possessed the saints out of revenge, the current witch had managed to leave something of herself behind before she'd been completely swallowed by the curse.

In the game, you only learned of this during the witch's route. In every other route, you only got a ton of foreshadowing without actually understanding why or how Verner had ended up with such powers.

Either way, I couldn't just blurt that out right now—Verner would be in danger if I did. I figured pretending that he had some strange power that's somehow similar to the witch's was good enough for the time being.

Honestly, I was just glad to finally see this mess end. I had to admit, I'd freaked out when Eterna had blurted out that she was the witch in front of everyone.

Thanks to Verner, it hadn't turned into anything serious, though. If he hadn't asked me whether Eterna's power and his were similar, I probably wouldn't have thought of a good excuse by myself.

Eterna was prostrating herself in front of me and apologizing. "Lady Ellize... I-I'm really sorry for causing so much trouble for you because of a stupid misunderstanding..."

I assured her it was fine. Now that I understood her train of thought, I could see I'd been slightly at fault too.

That said, you have to take good care of yourself from now on, okay?! Anyway...case closed! We'll get to enjoy some peace now. Good, good, time to go eat a nice bath, then. Wait... I meant "time to eat some good food and enjoy a nice bath, then."

◇

A few days had passed since the uproar caused by Eterna's event, and peaceful days pervaded once more.

In the midst of this tranquility, only one person remained constantly on edge: Layla Scott, the saint's guard. Layla's life mission was to ensure Ellize's safety at all times. Now that they were in the academy, she couldn't afford to lose focus.

The academy was safer than most places because the place was filled with knights-to-be, ready to jump at a moment's notice to protect the saint. That much was true.

However, Layla wasn't only worried about Ellize's physical safety. What really set her nerves on edge and kept her constantly worried were the lascivious gazes some of the students threw at Ellize.

While they weren't full-fledged knights yet, they were meant to serve and protect the saint. Ogling and lusting over her were irredeemable sins. Admiring her was acceptable in Layla's book, but regarding her like that just wasn't!

And yet... Layla couldn't help but wonder if it was possible for anyone—anyone at all—to not feel any attraction or lust for Ellize.

Impossible, she concluded.

Regardless of their gender, no one could resist Ellize's charms. Anyone who wasn't immediately smitten with her had to be blind or utterly tasteless, unable to appreciate beauty.

Layla had woven herself an absurd and difficult reality, caught between constant vigilance of those who lusted over Ellize, while regarding those who didn't as oddballs.

To be fair, she wasn't wrong. Plenty of students—including Verner—had entered the academy with the sole aim of approaching Ellize. It was also perfectly natural for healthy, growing boys to ponder over the possibilities of getting close to the saint in a certain way...

Naturally, prospective knights weren't stupid enough to even think of putting their hands on Ellize unless she asked for it. As far as Layla was concerned, though, their lustful glances were already sinful enough. They couldn't be forgiven.

To her dismay, Ellize was surprisingly unguarded.

While there was a separate bath reserved for important guests that she could use, she insisted on going to the students' communal bath at least once a week.

She had her reasons, of course. She'd told Layla she wanted to understand the students who were doing their best for her. She was eager for a chance to get to know them better and hoped to forge strong ties with them.

Ellize's intentions were certainly laudable, but it was still preposterous! She couldn't let her guard down just because she was in the company of women only. She was walking into the lion's den! She was so charming that not even girls were safe from her spell! Layla would know—she was one of them.

In fact, Layla's worries had been proven right. Ellize always visited the bathhouse at the same time every week and, unsurprisingly, it just so happened to be packed every single time. There were always more than twice as many girls there compared to other days.

While Layla had a lot on her plate to worry about, there was one person she was especially wary of, someone who seemed to harbor particularly perverted thoughts toward Ellize—Supple Ment.

Although he was a teacher, that didn't seem to stop him from gawking at Ellize in the most disgusting of ways. She was certain he'd eventually try to pull something strange.

Layla knew she was the only one who could protect her lovely master from that freak.

That's right! I have to protect Lady Ellize with everything I have!

Sure enough, something finally happened.

Ellize had decided to head to the school's cafeteria to eat with the students. It was one of her attempts to further her understanding and bond with them.

After she'd finished her meal, she handed her plate and tableware to the staff member in charge of collecting and cleaning them, then walked away.

It was at that moment that the disgusting Supple Ment started showing his eccentricity. He crouched and dashed through the entire cafeteria, skittering around like a cockroach, looking for the opportune moment the kitchen staff took their eyes off the dishes. When that happened, he hurriedly grabbed Ellize's used spoon and carefully snuck it into a handmade leather pouch.

Supple Ment had only needed a moment to accomplish his crime. No one but Layla, the head of Ellize's guard, had noticed.

What is this disgusting four-eyed pervert doing?!

Layla was enraged. She resolved to do whatever she must to rid the land of that evil and ruthless pervert.

"Lady Ellize, I'm sorry for asking you this out of the blue, but would you mind going back without me? There is something I must take care of here."

"'Something you must take care of'? I don't mind waiting for you, then."

"No, please don't concern yourself with such trivial matters! I can deal with this on my own."

Layla made Ellize return to her room before stepping back into the cafeteria.

While she felt bad about leaving her master's side, she knew she had to take care of this scourge first.

"Mr. Supple Ment..." she approached him, reaching out for her sword as she spoke. "Why don't you tell me what you're planning to do with that thing you just stole?"

Her murderous intent was oozing out with every word. She was out for blood, and it was clear she was ready to slay him depending on his answer.

Most prospective knights—no, most knights period—would've trembled in front of Layla's overwhelming aura, but Supple Ment didn't even blink.

"What a foolish question. I'm obviously going to put it away for safekeeping. A spoon used by our glorious saint is no mere spoon—it's a holy relic. Allowing it to be washed is preposterous, wouldn't you agree?"

Who the hell would agree with you? Verner, who was sitting close by, fiercely retorted...in his head.

It didn't matter what kind of justification Supple Ment tried to come up with; only a pervert would ever think of stealing a girl's spoon.

"Fair point... But that doesn't mean such a precious relic should end up in the hands of a freak like you!"

Fair point?! Verner couldn't believe his ears. Had Layla really just said that?! Was she just as insane as that crazy teacher?

"It's regrettable that you'd think of me that way. I'm positive that no one in this academy could ever protect and preserve this treasure better than I," Supple Ment said, his voice brimming with confidence.

"Don't make me laugh! I know you're only pretending to have good intentions. Who knows what you'll do with it? For all I know, you could lick it, [REDACTED] it, or even [Due to Layla's overactive imagination, we cannot disclose what she said for the safety of our audience. Please forgive us for the inconvenience.] with it!"

Supple looked exasperated, then sneered at her. "You're completely mistaken... But that does get me wondering. Do you ever think of doing such things with the saint's belongings? What a vulgar imagination you have."

Layla reached her breaking point.

"I'm going to kill you!" she screamed.

She was so enraged that her mana burst out violently, making her hair stand. A red aura covered her body.

On the other hand, Supple looked as calm as ever, the ever-present smirk still on his face. He slowly raised his hands in a way that, had Ellize been in the room, would've reminded her of an orchestra conductor. (Enjoying music and going to concerts wasn't really a thing in their world, however, so the comparison didn't occur to anyone there.)

The standstill only lasted for a second. The next moment, Supple's head was lodged in the ceiling, leaving everyone to wonder why he'd looked so in control of the situation. That was just the kind of person he was. He was not all that well-versed in battle, so there was no way in the world he could have defeated Layla, the cream of the crop.

SWOOSH!

Layla twirled her sword in the air, then returned it to its scabbard. She'd been so swift that no one had even seen her unsheathe it in the first place.

"Rest assured. I held myself back."

She had been on the verge of killing him, but she'd managed to stop herself. Instead of slicing him up, she'd opted to hit him with the flat of her sword; he was barely hurt.

She picked up the spoon that had tumbled out of Supple's leather pouch and went to return it to the kitchen staff. As she walked, though, a single thought kept creeping into her mind even as she tried to chase it away.

Should I really return this spoon...?

In her hand was a piece of cutlery that had been used by Ellize—the greatest saint in history. There were thousands of people who would die to get their hands on something her master had put into her mouth.

She knew for a fact that not even other women could be trusted.

Even if—for some crazy reason—they didn't lust after her, they were likely to want to bask in the saint's divine protection. She was sure some villages would gladly treat this spoon as a holy relic and enshrine it to be worshiped.

Now that she'd realized this, Layla wasn't sure giving the spoon to one of the kitchen workers was such a good idea. The old ladies from the cafeteria looked like good-natured people, but who knew what kind of ungodly thoughts they were hiding behind their warm smiles?

Actually...wasn't it obvious what they were thinking about? Ellize's existence was a miracle in its own right. No one could stand in front of her and remain unmoved. Layla was certain of that.

(As it turned out, the poor ladies from the cafeteria didn't think much of Ellize's spoon, nor did they have any weird thoughts about her at all, for that matter. They simply respected the saint, and they were grateful she was bringing peace to this world.)

But Layla had no way of knowing that. Now that she'd seen firsthand how gross Supple could be, everyone looked like an enemy in her eyes. She was an honest and pure girl at heart, but stubborn to a fault. Whenever she was convinced of something, she wouldn't budge or change her mind.

That was why, instead of handing the spoon to anyone, she slipped it into her pocket. (Scotterbrain!!!) Now, no one could do anything inappropriate with that spoon.

Layla nodded, a satisfied look on her face. "Good. I took care of everything."

She started walking away, leaving everyone around her to wonder what exactly had been "taken care of."

"What do you mean 'good'?! Are you insane?!" Verner exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He simply couldn't watch silently anymore.

Layla turned to face him and cocked her head inquiringly. She didn't seem to understand why she was suddenly getting yelled at, even though she'd done the right thing.

"Why are you looking at me like you have no clue what I mean?! Don't you realize you're doing the same thing as Mr. Supple?"

"Wh-What?!"

Layla looked utterly shocked. Verner wasn't sure how it was possible, but she truly hadn't noticed she was acting just like the Four-Eyed Pervert.

She pointed at Supple and shouted, "How could you say I'm like him?! I could never resemble that pervert in any way!"

Supple, who was still stuck in the ceiling, started flapping his legs at Layla and Verner's accusations. Contrary to all expectations, he was quite tenacious.

"I'm just being responsible! I'm putting this spoon away for safekeeping so that no one can do anything creepy with it! I'm not like that pervert who wanted to put it away for who-knows-what!"

"Miss Layla... Did you hear yourself just now?!"

Layla might be a hopeless case, Verner thought.

She was so focused on making sure that the spoon didn't end up in a pervert's possession that she couldn't see the forest for the trees. If he didn't act, though, Ellize might see the spoon and mistakenly think that Layla had been the one to steal it in the first place. She'd definitely feel hurt and betrayed...

There was no way that could happen! Verner didn't want her to be sad.

He made up his mind—he'd get the situation under control no matter what. Layla was acting like a complete lunatic. He needed to get the spoon back from her clutch and hand it over to the kitchen staff. With that, he approached her and blocked her path.

"Miss Layla... Please hand the spoon over. I realize you can't think straight at the moment, but I can't let you walk away with it."

"I can't believe this! Are you also after her spoon?! You're just like that pervert!"

"Why would you even assume that?!"

Layla wasn't about to listen to anyone.

Truth be told, Verner's choice of words had most likely played a big part in Layla's reaction. Instead of bringing an end to the mess, he'd actually added fuel to the fire, and the situation had grown even more chaotic.

Supple, who had remained firmly wedged in the ceiling up until now, finally managed to extricate himself from his predicament. He spun in the air, then gracefully landed on the floor.

"My, my, I can't let this slide, Verner," he stated. "A holy relic should be protected by someone qualified—someone like me."

Damn, you should've stayed stuck in the ceiling... You're gonna make the whole situation worse, Verner lamented. And why the hell are you even calling it a holy relic? It's a spoon. It's literally just a SPOON.

Supple, Layla, and Verner were now engaged in a Mexican standoff, glaring at each other. The rest of the students held their breath, watching their fight intently.

Supple was deep in thought. It was crucial that the holy relic—the spoon—remained fresh. Quite some time had already passed since Ellize had used it, and it would gradually lose all of her warmth. He needed to get it back before it further deteriorated, use magic to freeze it in time, and enshrine it. It was his mission as someone who had devoted his life to his love for the saint.

Layla was also deep in thought. She was the head of Ellize's guard. She needed to protect her and her honor. Thus, she couldn't give this spoon to anyone else. She simply couldn't allow the saint to become the target of anyone's base instincts. She resolved to protect the spoon to the bitter end. It was her mission as someone who had devoted her life and her loyalty to the saint.

Last, but certainly not least, Verner was also deep in thought. What the hell am I even doing? He was probably the only person who realized what this situation looked like from the outside. Three perverts were fighting over a spoon the saint had used, and...he was one of them.

He just wanted to cry, go home, then cry some more.

"Whichever one of you is ready to draw his last breath can come at me," Layla said in a low voice, conjuring flames around her blade.

She had trained harder than any other knight, making her an accomplished magic sword user.

"A magic sword, huh? Ridiculous. Such a pathetic technique could never stop my overwhelming love for the saint!" Supple exclaimed, moving his hands like a conductor once again.

The floor began to rise next to him. In the next moment, it erupted with countless swords. They hovered around Supple, ready to fly at his enemies at his order.

(Needless to say, the school later took out the repair fee from Supple's pay.)

Verner started blushing. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, and he didn't even have a weapon! It wasn't his fault, though, was it?! This was the cafeteria. Who in their right mind would bring a weapon to lunch?!

Layla kicked the floor as she prepared to jump, but at that moment, the spoon fell out of her pocket.

Ah.

All three contenders looked down at the same time.

Everything played out slowly right before their eyes. The spoon happened to fall right in front of Eterna, who was just passing through. She kicked the spoon, sending it flying into the air. It soared through the cafeteria until it finally landed right into the hand of the old woman who was in the middle of washing the dishes. She didn't think much about it—she didn't even have to look away to catch it. She began to wash the wayward spoon along with the rest of the cutlery.

Between the moment she'd grabbed it and the moment she'd started washing it, no more than half a second had passed.

Supple had wanted to stop her, but he hadn't made it in time. Disheartened, he fell to his knees.

Verner and Layla looked at each other without saying a word. The three of them had been mere seconds away from entering a violent brawl, but in the end, nothing had happened.

After staring at Verner for a short while, Layla finally sheathed her blade.

"Good!" she exclaimed after a pause.

Granted, not even she knew what was "good," but that was all right. She'd given up on thinking altogether. She'd managed to stand up to the freaks, and the spoon was now sparkly clean so there was no risk of anyone going after it—which was good!

Now that she was convinced she was the victor, Layla left the cafeteria with a smug look plastered on her face.

Verner, on the other hand, was mortified. He remained rooted in place, with no idea what to do. Suddenly, he felt a hand pat his shoulder gently. It was John.

"Verner... You know I'm your friend, right? You're important to me, so I have to tell you... I'm not sure you should go around trying to steal stuff that the saint used."

A single tear ran down Verner's cheek.

(4k words)