Late at night.
The Lord's reception room.
Rose didn't care about the petty matter of bandits. She was thinking about something else.
For example.
"..."
The Princess sitting before her, elegantly holding a teacup and sipping red tea.
If this woman insisted on making things difficult for her, would it be necessary to use her power to kill her right here?
Would her sister, far away in the big city, be affected?
Over the years, the blood of hundreds, if not a thousand, had stained the nun's hands. What did an Empress with real power matter?
She could ensure her beloved's safety, then find her sister and fly far away together.
She could even take the maid she had chatted with along.
The only thing she worried about were the Princess's eyes. Rose had heard rumors long ago that royalty possessed the power to bewitch hearts... she didn't know the specifics. But during their earlier argument, she had seen those eyes change color. In that moment, her movements had grown sluggish.
Where would be the best place to strike?
The throat?
The heart?
Or... those annoying, overly beautiful feet.
"..."
Sipping her sweetened red tea, Elisa also didn't care much about the bandits.
She was similarly observing the nun.
Tentacles—the rumored monsters. Ordinary people didn't know, but she did.
The Princess's physical constitution was certainly much better than a normal person's, but her pride and joy was the power of the "Sandman."
She had used her green pupils, but it had only caused the nun's tentacles to slow down by a beat.
Using the full power of the red pupils was exhausting; if it only slowed the opponent down a little, Elisa wasn't confident she could kill someone who wasn't entirely human.
But at the end of the day.
Why was she fighting her over a mere groom?
Inadvertently, she glimpsed the thin black silk stockings beneath the nun's habit. The colors were opposite, but the fetish perfectly matched that man's preferences in every way. The breasts too. She was beautiful as well.
Based on those things alone, Elisa wouldn't have thought much of it.
'He is my husband.'
It was that sentence.
As a grand Saintess, the records kept in the Royal Capital were countless.
Among them were two specific points.
First, the nun had a man she loved deeply who died because of the Roman Church. That was why she founded the Noye Church for self-protection.
Second, the nun was exceptionally beautiful but seemed to have absolutely no interest in men. There were no rumors of her being intimate with anyone.
For Elisa.
Silas's disappearance had been incredibly sudden. There was one possibility she had raised but never truly believed.
That was.
Silas had another lover. He was already married. He was just playing with her.
Mmh.
No, that wasn't what made it hard for her to stay calm.
What made her uneasy was Silas's indifference. He treated her entirely like a stranger.
If he truly was the nun's husband, did she have no place?
Elisa refused to believe it.
That she had been abandoned for over a hundred years just because Silas had a wife.
Clink.
Elisa placed her teacup on the table, her delicate feet in white silk still resting lightly. She feigned composure.
It didn't matter.
She hadn't seen Silas show any passion toward the nun either.
She only cared about what she had confirmed—the scent that couldn't be wrong and the "Silent Night" engraved in the bones of a succubus. Elisa only found out later that once a succubus accepts a man in her womb, she can only ever accept that man's "supplies" for the rest of her life. Moreover, that specific man's semen becomes an incomparably delicious and unique scent to the succubus.
"..."
The Lord had no idea what the two great figures from the outside were thinking. He could only pull out a handkerchief and, in silence, cautiously wipe the sweat from his forehead. He tried his best not to make a sound.
Please.
Just come back quickly.
He had been sitting here all day. He was a Count! Not a prisoner waiting for a death sentence. Even if he were to be sentenced to death, wouldn't a quick verdict bring more peace of mind?
Step, step.
He didn't have to wait much longer; they all heard footsteps outside.
"Arch-Nun, Highness Elisa... and Lord Count. I have brought the groom back, but there is something strange about the bandits."
"..."
The young knight knelt on one knee in the reception room.
"Don't ramble, let the groom in!"
The Count spoke immediately. He had waited for this moment too long.
"Groom, the lords want you inside! Bring that... whatever living corpse you caught in as well."
"..."
The layout of the reception room was no different to Silas than it was during the day. He just didn't expect both the nun and the Princess to be there.
The nun in her habit had massive breasts. Her black silk was also very beautiful.
He had felt they weren't very familiar before, but now Silas seemed to remember something else besides her inverted nipples...
No.
He couldn't think about that. If he got a hard-on here, it really wouldn't be funny.
"..."
So, facing the Count and the two women he knew so well from the game, he began to introduce the living corpse beside him.
Of course.
Silas wasn't stupid enough to be overly detailed. He spoke ambiguously, saying that the others in the team happened to start a fire, and he used the fire to kill most of the living corpses.
The actual situation—which was no different from farming minions... he couldn't describe it.
"So, are you... injured?"
"..."
Hearing the voice, Silas didn't look at the nun. He didn't want any more memories.
"Replying to the Arch-Nun, I was lucky. With the fire the others started, we solved it very quickly. I am not injured."
Silas didn't forget to give credit to the others in his squad.
"Living corpses?"
The nun murmured to herself, then set it aside for the moment.
Her hands moved unconsciously to her chest, looking at Silas who was also kneeling with his head down. "You did very well... I am officially inviting you to the Church now. To further confirm the matter of the living corpses."
Though Rose cared about the appearance of the undead at the border, she more so wished for everyone else to disappear right now so she could pounce on him.
"Wait."
"..."
Before Silas could speak, the Princess had already stood up. "The appearance of such things clearly endangers national security. I need to personally confirm this with you. Come with me."
She even took the initiative to grab Silas's hand.
"Besides the living corpses, you should... have something else to tell me. Right?"
Elisa gripped Silas's hand tightly and didn't let go. Her slender pinky finger was in Silas's palm. Her eyes didn't hide her lustful little intentions.
"The living corpses are an evil omen! The Church has the duty to handle this. Highness Elisa... should you consider the Pope and the existence of the Church of Noye's Mercy?"
"..."
"Mr. Silas, I need you to come to the convent with me immediately to explain this in detail."
"..."
The Lord sat on the sofa, completely invisible. He didn't dare make a sound.
"Gurgle... growl."
The bound living corpse struggled, making meaningless noises.
Silas didn't understand.
Why was the nun also so obsessed with him?
But being suddenly called "Mr. Silas" felt like a switch had been flipped inside him. Plus, Rose had her hands on her chest—that little nervous habit the nun had in the game whenever she was uneasy.
He remembered.
Whenever that happened, he would press down on her breasts, pin her under him, and violently inject her with the "antidote."
That anxious look in her eyes also touched Silas.
"..."
His hand was still being held by the Princess, and her thigh, separated only by her skirt, was already pressed against him.
He didn't know.
It was just a sudden, fleeting thought he had never intended to entertain. What if Rose and Elisa really were the characters from the game?
"I will report to Highness Elisa first. How about I go to the Arch-Nun tomorrow?"
"After all, it's very late. As a man, entering the convent now wouldn't be appropriate."
He was playing both sides, not choosing immediately.
"You are absolutely right. Receiving guests at the convent at night is against etiquette, but there is no such rule for nobles or royalty. Arch-Nun Rose can just ask tomorrow."
"..."
Silas truly understood less and less.
Why was the Princess before him so happy? Was it just because his slippery response seemed like he had chosen her side?
If it was just that, there wasn't much to say.
"..."
But the nun... the way she was looking at him.
She looked like she was about to cry.
Just like in the game, during their final parting, she wouldn't stop crying.
It was strange.
As a top-tier player, Silas believed he could absolutely distinguish between reality and games. Because of that, he never brought in-game emotions into the stable.
Even without the anti-addiction mechanism, Silas was certain he wouldn't make a move detrimental to himself because of a failure to differentiate.
The previously blurred memories were becoming increasingly vivid.
The way he teased the nun's inverted nipples, her shame. How she rode him after he "revived," confessing her love while milking him dry.
She even said her tits were bigger than Fiona's, so she was more suitable to be his cum-dumpster.
That is to say.
"..."
What if.
What if his other hand—the one not being held by the Princess—reached out to touch the nun's face? What would happen then?