“Oh, it’s so hot it’s killing me. Don’t you know the meaning of ‘moderation’?”
“So, when you fight, are you going to tell the enemy to fight moderately?”
The man complaining while blowing the golden flame off his bangs was Krail. He looked pitifully at Julius, who fought him with gritted teeth, even though it was just a sparring match.
“I guess you just hate losing. Don’t you remember how you punished Thalia for an entire day just because you lost to her at rock-paper-scissors?”
“… It wasn’t unbearable; we were just having fun.”
“What? Was it an illusion created by a devil that made you play with fire, then burn the hair on Thalia’s head, only for you to get beaten up by Priestess Emily?”
“And you! You were caught doing something strange in front of Raynell’s statue in the basement of the church without Emily knowing!”
“If anyone hears that, they’ll misunderstand. It was just a beautiful tribute to the beautiful Raynell.”
“Since when did skimpy clothes become offerings for an angel? You were just trying to fulfill your dirty desires!”
What came back instead of an answer was a swift kick to the waist.
Julius dodged quickly and rushed toward Krail. The two men, acting far younger than their age, wasted time throwing punches at each other, oblivious to the passage of time.
***
“Ha, ha. I decided to secretly go out on a date with Cecile tonight. What is this?”
“You should practice moderation. Then again, on the day you cause an incident, the saint will pull out your heart, roast it, and eat it.”
Krail imitated Saint Erman’s voice with a serious expression.
Julius, seeing this, twisted his entire body and burst out laughing.
“Pfft, don’t worry. We have a very healthy relationship. Cecile is a pure woman who doesn’t even think about such things, hahahaha.”
Was he serious? Pure?
The Cecile he knew always looked like she wanted to devour Julius whole every time she saw him. Love truly made people fools.
While lamenting his friend’s foolishness, Krail smiled as he remembered the golden Raynell statue he had secretly hidden in his dormitory.
Once upon a time, Saint Telmere had said: “People should get along with each other.”
An angel residing in the heavens far away gazed at the two men with a subtle expression.
“Erman, I think I was the wisest in choosing you.”
Unfortunately, ten years later, it became a laughable tale that Lionelta found herself being chased by Tapnel, accused of having the least foresight among the angels.
“Anyway, Cecile would hate it if you tried to win unconditionally like that.”
“I don’t mind losing as many times as it takes for Cecile. I just don’t want to lose to some other b*stards.”
“… If she tries to eat you, will you lose then too?”
Krail asked Julius with a mysterious expression, his sharp eyes flashing.
After swallowing nervously, Julius scratched his short hair and mumbled.
“… In a case like that, I’d have to win….”
“Huh? What?”
“Oh, I don’t know! I’m going on a date now. You can just lounge around in your room, hugging Raynell’s portrait.”
Julius stood quickly, kicked his friend in the stomach, and ran off, trying desperately to cover his embarrassed face. Shouldn’t such absurd declarations only be made after marrying her with everyone’s blessing?
How dare he talk about eating someone like that?
“That Krail guy, he’s finally growing up.”
Though they bickered like fools, the day would eventually come.
Julius would grit his teeth and win, for he was Julius Tapnel, the greatest heretic inquisitor in the Kingdom of Lyriam. The word surrender did not exist in his dictionary.
Still, he really hated losing.
***
A dark night, where the moon softly illuminated the world.
Four figures sat together by a blazing bonfire.
No, not four people—a devil, a unicorn, and two humans.
Emily shoved a carrot into Francis’s mouth as the unicorn licked its tongue near her. Unable to endure it any longer, she stood and pointed at the devil across from her.
“So? Make things clear! Do you want to take a bath in holy water?” The silver-haired priestess fumed, seemingly having lost her mind.
Even in her uproar, the devils fiery gaze never left her husband, who sat poking the campfire with kindling as if talking to a wall.
Emily brushed her hair roughly, lowered her head, and began shaking Julius’s shoulder.
“… Julius, just ask yourself honestly. If things continue like this, we won’t solve anything.”
As she shook him, she suddenly pulled her hand back, startled by a sharp sensation. Blood welled from a small wound on her palm.
“Caw!”
A black bird approached her, its beak menacing.
Startled, Emily swung a fragment of Francis’s horn she had been keeping in her back pocket. The bird dissolved into a black shadow and flowed to the feet of the devil.
“… What is this supposed to mean?”
“Even if you are considered Julius’s mother, I cannot allow that.”
The devil, with a leisurely and alluring smile, crossed her legs and closed her eyes. Her smooth, pale legs beneath her raised skirt caught the priestess’s eye.
Emily, stunned, grabbed the back of her neck and collapsed in frustration.
It was a nightmare, moonbathing beneath the beautiful moonlight.
Julius, silent since they arrived, finally raised his head, taking in the surreal scene.
“… Why is this happening?”
“Have you calmed down? When your heart breaks, it breaks mine, child of Rom.”
The devil placed a hand over his chest, her eyes closed, and whispered softly.
For a moment, there was only silence. When the sparks from the bonfire fell and faded, the devil spoke again.
“Cecile’s reason for becoming one with me and surviving perfectly was her ugly obsession with her husband.”
“… Obsession? Cecile is not that kind of woman…”
A memory of Cecile’s will flashed through his mind, silencing him mid-denial.
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Check out my other projects: Rehabilitating the Villainess, Pushover Extra Trains the Villainesses, I Picked Up an Amnesiac Witch, Transmigrated as the Butler of a Defeated Heroine, My Summons Are Special