Chapter 287: The Final Performance

“Training?”

As expected of a Feng Ao Tian protagonist—such diligence...

But looking at Liya, who was standing pertly before him just now, Muen felt an odd twinge.

“At a time like this, she still leaves you to bury herself in training—that’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

Although his involvement had altered the plot, the original book didn’t have this “challenge” sequence.

But right now was clearly the perfect moment for that Feng Ao Tian protagonist Ariel to show off and slap faces. Look—the pitiful, helpless childhood friend and the vicious villains are all prepped for you. All that’s left is for you to take the stage, play the hero saving the beauty, and slap those faces one by one...

And you’re training?

If you wrote the plot like that, wouldn’t readers roast you alive?

“Don’t you dare speak ill of Ariel!”

Liya puffed out her cute cheeks, then lowered her head, twisting her fingers.

“Ariel works this hard... for me!”

“...All right, pretend I didn’t say it.”

Since Liya herself didn’t see a problem, Muen naturally had no right to keep pressing it.

He shrugged, looked at the girl before him, and, thinking how that heaven’s-chosen Feng Ao Tian protagonist still hated his guts—her favorability still in the negatives—he couldn’t help sighing a little.

“You and Ariel really do have a great relationship.”

“Of course!”

Liya tilted her chin, the swanlike white of her neck gleaming, and said with a hint of pride:

“We’re the closest childhood friends there are!”

“Are you?”

Muen couldn’t help but laugh.

Although later the old-hand Ariel would be making her move, the pure friendship blooming in Liya’s eyes now—that true, girlish kind—really was beautiful to see.

With a foundation like that, this wall was already a copper-and-iron bastion. Even the Foolish Old Man wouldn’t dig it down.

“Want to keep playing?”

Reining in thoughts he shouldn’t be having, Muen asked with a smile.

“I...”

Liya hesitated. “I’d like to rest for a bit first.”

“Then sit over here.”

Muen patted the spot by his side and slid over a ways, generously giving up half the bench.

“Mm.”

Liya didn’t refuse. With both hands she smoothed the graceful curve of her skirt and sat demurely at the other end of the bench.

But though it was the “other end,” a path-side bench wasn’t that wide; between them was at most a gap the width of one person.

Muen could still catch that newborn-clean scent from the girl at his side.

Winter sunlight spilled through the branches, weaving a net that covered them both.

Unnoticed, the girl who had been so wary of him now didn’t mind sharing a seat.

She even...

“Haven’t been sleeping well lately?”

Seeing the slight weariness at the corners of Liya’s eyes, Muen asked, puzzled: “The roster’s already finalized. Why work yourself this hard?”

“N-no... it’s not hard.”

Liya’s voice was soft. “I’ve just... been a little nervous lately.”

“I see...”

Because the Holy City was just ahead, right?

Even with Ariel’s help, the upcoming Sanctification Rite would still be one of the most important things in Liya’s life. Feeling nervous was only natural.

It almost had the flavor of the old-world college entrance exam.

No—that rite was more important for Liya than any exam, and far tougher.

“A-and also.”

“Hm?”

“Those people who want to challenge me... are a bit annoying.”

In the side-lit glow, Muen saw Liya puff her cheeks again, showing that tiny, sulky displeasure.

It was a very childish gesture—or expression—and only when Liya accidentally let the thoughts from deep inside bubble up did she show it. Muen had only seen it a few times, and it didn’t make her seem immature; if anything, it was extremely cute.

Like a squirrel nibbling away—hard to resist the urge to poke.

...No. No way. Control the hand that spasms at intervals. If he actually poked her, after he’d finally gotten the girl to lower her guard, Liya would probably throw a wall back up between them—and look at him like some kind of pervert. Muen kept a lid on his primal, world-sundering urge, and suggested with a smile:

“Then take the chance to rest now. With me here, no one without eyes will come bother you.”

“...”

Liya suddenly turned her head and stared straight at Muen. Her big, lovely eyes blinked, and in the depths of her gaze, a faint ripple seemed to spread.

“You’re not going to take advantage of me if I fall asleep, are you?”

“What do you think?”

“Hmph.”

Liya turned back again, but she didn’t refuse.

She gently slipped off her white deerskin boots. Her pale, dainty feet met the air; a touch of cold wind made ten little bun-like toes scrunch up, and she quickly tucked them back under her long skirt.

Hugging her knees, she nestled her face there, curling up on the bench. Strands of hair fell to hide her profile. The way she balled herself up made Muen think of an orange cat dozing by the hearth.

Back to the point from before—Liya could now completely let down her guard and take a little nap by his side.

A month together, after all.

Muen smiled, drew his gaze back, leaned against the backrest, and closed his eyes.

He didn’t sleep, nor did his mind sink into the Black Book for training. He’d promised the girl he’d watch over her; spacing out now would be truly rude.

He merely rested with eyes closed.

Since coming to this world, this was one of the rare times he... wasted time.

But hearing the surrounding snow melt, hearing the girl’s breathing beside him grow even and steady, Muen felt it wasn’t a waste at all.

With a beauty at your side—there’s no balm better for the soul and spirit.

His heart, too, gradually grew still.

...

He didn’t know how long had passed; a faint evening glow lay on the thinning white snow.

Muen heard the soft rustle of clothes beside him.

Liya lifted her head from her knees. A touch of daze and mist lingered on her pretty face; a lock of hair clung to the corner of her mouth; her eyes were still a little blank.

“Awake?”

Muen asked with a smile:

“How was the nap?”

“I...”

Liya’s face flushed pink in an instant. She quickly slipped her little feet back into the deerskin boots, sprang up, and hurriedly smoothed the wrinkles in her [N O V E L I G H T] clothes and tidied her hair. Only once she was sure there was nothing embarrassing did she breathe out in relief.

“I didn’t... do anything weird just now, did I?”

“Weird... you mean the sleep-talking you just did?”

“S-sleep... talking?”

Liya tensed at once.

“W-what did I say?”

“You said...”

Muen straightened his face and, mimicking Liya’s tone, said with solemn gravity:

“‘Muen... you’re so handsome... especially that blond hair... it makes me unable to stop...’”

“W-what...?”

Liya flushed all the way to the roots of her neck.

She’d said something that shameful in her sleep? How could that be—though Classmate Muen was indeed a little handsome, she wouldn’t...

At that moment, Liya finally noticed the laughter in Muen’s eyes.

She realized he was only teasing her.

“Y-you’re awful!”

Liya said, eyes shining with tears, full of hate. She looked around for something handy, found nothing, and finally pulled out her violin.

“H-how can you be like this?”

“W-wait! Liya, stop, stop!”

Seeing that she really looked about to smash it, Muen’s face went instantly alarmed as he soothed her:

“My fault! My fault! Put the violin down—down!”

“...”

“We still have to play next. You can’t perform empty-handed, can you?”

“Hmph...”

At the word “perform,” Liya slowly lowered the violin, but not before shooting Muen a fierce glare and muttering:

“You really are a bad person.”

“...”

Muen’s mouth twitched as he let out a breath. Sure enough, you can’t joke around lightly with this future Saintess.

Too easy to make her bristle.

Though it’s very cute.

“Then I’ll start playing.”

Liya took a deep breath and raised the violin. The emotions surging in her chest gradually calmed.

But looking at Muen—whom she’d spent a brief month with—her feelings were still a little complicated.

This guy always managed to make her do things that were out of line—things that ran completely counter to the “Saintess” path she sought.

Sometimes she wondered: at this rate, would even the Goddess one day dislike this shameless her?

Still, it was all about to end.

They would set out for the Holy City tomorrow. They would still travel together for a short while, but once they arrived, they would walk two utterly different roads.

He was the duke’s son of the Leopold Empire.

She was the Life Church’s Saintess Candidate.

Perhaps they were two parallel lines that would never intersect again.

“Tomorrow we depart for the Holy City, so this will be my last performance for you, Mr. Employer,” Liya reminded softly.

“I know.”

Muen at once shifted into audience mode. He sat up straighter than at any time, and smiled:

“Please begin, my lady musician. I’ll listen as earnestly as ever.”

“Okay.”

Liya smiled as well—and drew the bow.

The lilting music began.

Since it was the last time, Liya held nothing back. She poured her most sincere feeling and her most attentive technique into the notes blooming from her fingertips.

With that small, comfortable rest, Liya’s state of mind had reached its peak for the month.

This time, she actively restrained all the Holy Light that might unconsciously leak out.

And yet merely listening to that pure music, Muen’s vision brightened as never before.

Like a sea, sparkling with ripples.

In that grove where there were only the two of them—

The notes mixed with winter sun, with white snow, with a light breeze, as if uplifting Muen’s very soul and spirit, guiding him toward a place of endless light.

Then, together with the sound of breath and heartbeat, they counted down the “last” curtain-fall.