Chapter 239: Veil

A remote street.

Beneath the silent eaves.

Watching the beauty in front of him deftly opening the lock, seemingly without the slightest guard against anyone behind her—Muen’s heart suddenly began to beat faster.

“T-this... this isn’t really good, is it?”

“Hm?”

Celicia turned back, giving Muen a questioning look. “What isn’t good?”

“Isn’t this a little too fast?”

Muen spoke awkwardly, shifting uneasily. “I mean, not that I’d mind, but isn’t this all happening a bit too suddenly? I think maybe we should deepen our understanding of each other first...”

“President’s back!”

Suddenly, a sweet, lively voice cut him off. A little head poked out from behind the opened door. “You’re back so late—any later and I would’ve started worrying... Eh? There’s someone else?”

As she spoke, that vaguely familiar face turned its gaze toward him.

The girl froze.

Muen also froze.

A two-for-one deal?

So open-minded already?

No—that was the Student Council secretary, Veil, that little tail who always followed Celicia around.

Muen came to his senses.

“Muen Campbell!”

Veil quickly recognized him too, and whatever thought crossed her mind instantly made her little face flush scarlet. With a sudden pfft, two streams of nosebleed sprayed out.

“Y-you perverted scumbag, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re stalking our President?”

“Hah?”

What the hell?

Scumbag, sure, he could own «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» that. But yelling insults while spraying nosebleed—that was some new kind of hobby!

“Enough. He’s a guest.”

Celicia flicked a sharp knuckle onto Veil’s forehead. “I told you to stop reading those weird books. Go prepare some hot water.”

“Ow.”

Veil wiped her nosebleed, clutching her forehead and pouting, still glaring at Muen hatefully.

But as she turned toward the doorway, an open booklet suddenly slipped out from under her skirt.

Muen glanced down instinctively.

On the finely illustrated pages were two men entangled in indescribable poses.

Aside from the bald, muscular brute, the other—half-clothed, blushing, golden-haired, handsome young noble—looked uncannily familiar.

Damn it, wasn’t that him?

A fanbook?

And of the boy’s love sort?!

“You—”

Muen’s eyes went wide with horror as he looked at Veil.

“That’s not me—you saw wrong!”

Steam erupted from Veil’s head as she snatched up the booklet and bolted inside.

For a long moment, Muen turned slowly toward Celicia, lips twitching.

“Your secretary... has some pretty dangerous hobbies.”

“...She only started that recently. She used to just read proper novels.”

Celicia’s expression showed a trace of helplessness, clearly troubled by this strange habit Veil had picked up from who-knows-where.

But then her eyes sharpened, glancing back at Muen.

“By the way, what was that you said just now about being too fast, about needing to deepen understanding?”

“...”

Muen’s face stiffened. He forced a laugh.

“I said your sword was too fast. I should work on deepening my understanding of your strength.”

“Good.”

Leaving him with one last frosty look, Celicia turned and entered the doorway.

Muen sighed with what seemed like regret, then followed her inside.

...

Upon entering, he found an entirely ordinary-looking courtyard.

The layout within was even plainer, not at all resembling the residence of a princess.

Yet Muen could faintly sense magical currents in the air—it seemed there were no weak formations set here.

Still, plain as it was, the living amenities were all in place.

After assigning Muen a room, Veil brought him to a bathing chamber.

Unlike the simplicity of the rest of the residence, this room was lavish: costly woods and polished stone laid out a great bath like a private hot spring, steaming water laced with fragrant petals.

“Wash.”

Veil turned her neck away, voice frosty.

Muen studied her for a moment, then asked cautiously:

“Miss Veil.”

“What is it?”

“You’re not going to secretly peek at me bathing, are you?”

“W-what?!”

Veil flushed crimson, furious, stomping her foot.

“Muen Campbell, what’s that supposed to mean? How could I ever watch you bathe? Just the thought of seeing you stark naked would give the President a sty!”

“Is that so...”

Muen lowered his head.

But as Veil stomped again, another booklet slipped from her clothes onto the ground.

This time, the golden-haired bashful youth on the page was entangled with a man built like a bear.

Unbelievable.

Not even repeating partners!

“A-anyway, the one who should be careful is you. If you try anything perverted, I won’t forgive you!”

Veil shoved the booklet back into her arms, face blazing red, and fled at full speed.

After she left, Muen shut the door carefully, double-checked for any magic or devices that could be spying, then finally relaxed. He stripped off his clothes and sank into the hot water.

“Ha... comfortable.”

A groan of relief escaped his lips.

Come to think of it, it had been a long time since he’d truly rested.

He’d been through too much lately. Especially these last two days—whether fighting Evil Gods or tangled with those two little demons, every bit of it had been enough to hollow him out completely.

If not for this body having endured unimaginable training and the Withering King’s flame reinforcing it, he might already have collapsed.

Now, sinking into this comfortable, clearly medicinal bath, the exhaustion finally came pouring in.

Muen leaned back, drifting into sleep.

...

Celicia’s room still burned with lamplight.

She was going over documents.

Sensing the quiet movements of the girl entering, she didn’t look up, only asked:

“How is he?”

“Nothing much.”

Veil helped organize the papers, pouting.

“He just looked tired. Fell asleep soaking in the water. Honestly, President, giving him such precious medicine for a bath—it feels like a waste.”

“Those medicines are for external use. You’d have him eat them instead?”

Celicia spoke casually.

“And after what he’s done before, he’s earned the right to use them... Wait.”

Celicia’s brows knit suddenly as she lifted her head toward Veil.

“He’s in the bath. How do you know he fell asleep?”

“Uh...”

Veil’s face went stiff, her chubby cheeks shrinking instantly.

“I... I guessed!”

“Did you.”

“O-of course! How could I possibly use special methods just to peep on that perverted scumbag bathing? Impossible. Absolutely impossible!”

“...Veil.”

“Yes?”

“Throw away those ridiculous booklets of yours.”

“...Oh.”

Veil’s eyes welled with tears, as though the sky had fallen.

All because of that damned Muen Campbell—his arrival never meant anything good.

Those booklets had cost her dearly. They were rare, gilded collector’s editions, circulating only among certain little cliques at the Academy!

It hurt so much, wuwuwu...

But after a while, Veil tugged at her fingers, whispering:

“President.”

“What is it.”

“If I throw them away... can I draw my own?”

“...”