Chapter 37 Visitors

A low laugh echoed through the room.

Nova paused - the voice was obviously not that of a man, but a slightly hoarse female voice, with a lazy little hook at the end, like snake scales rubbing against each other.

"You're so smart, honey. I like smart men."

A soft, boneless hand rested gently on his shoulder. "You even made tea, sweetheart—just next time, please prepare a glass of wine for me, preferably Slim's golden wine from the Batalha Highlands."

"This is too expensive for me, an uninvited guest." Nova leaned over and let the finger with bright red nail polish slide naturally from his shoulder. "With my current salary, I can't afford it at all."

The other party seemed to be choked by him: "You really are... This is the first time I have seen a man say that he is not good enough in front of me."

The mysterious visitor walked lightly in front of him and leaned lazily on the table. She was a woman wearing the platinum robe of the Glorious Church. The wide hood covered the upper half of her face, revealing only her delicate white chin and red lips with a mysterious smile.

When she lifted her hood, thick, seaweed-like black curls cascaded down. The woman lazily tucked her hair behind her ears, revealing an incredibly charming face. Her eyes were veiled in a thin, delicate white veil. Two golden snakes entwined their ears, and rose-like patterns crisscrossed her snow-white neck. Every move she made was filled with an unusually alluring charm.

"…Etilo virgin."

The Etilo virgins, priestesses of Analene, the goddess of love, dedicate their bodies to the deity. The word "Etilo" literally means "chaste," and they can also be called "holy virgins." While never marrying, they practice the ancient tradition of "sacred prostitutes," following the deity's will and engaging in sexual intercourse with believers seeking its protection.

Many people curse their promiscuity, but more people are fascinated by their beauty and charm.

"Yes, you can call me Apatella, sweetheart."

The priestess who called herself Apatla casually picked up the teacup across from her and took a sip. The other person suddenly stood up and leaned in to take a closer look at the bright, plump lips. She immediately giggled, "Dear, what do you want to do?"

"Before boarding the ship, you concealed your form with a cloak and drank a voice-changing potion. The lemongrass component in it reacted with your lip balm, causing the area near your teeth to turn slightly purple. Then you used a spell to trick the Kraken into attacking the ship, creating chaos." The black-haired young man stared at her seriously. "You didn't use a confusion spell because you're not as strong as Miller and would likely die if discovered. But you still went to such great lengths to get on the ship of the Church of Radiance. Why? Just to see me?"

He frowned in confusion, sat back, raised his eyes and looked carefully at the mysterious and beautiful woman in front of him.

Outside the window, the crowd's chaotic and anxious shouts echoed, mingled with the sorcerer's high-pitched chants as he cast spells, and the dull sound of wood breaking. The atmosphere in the room was almost stagnant. Under the professor's cold, sharp gaze, like that of a human anatomy diagram, it was difficult for the other person to continue flirting with ease.

"Exactly—I like you even more, darling."

"I just wanted to see if the Rose Lady's legendary lover was actually a lovely man. If not, I'd dig out his eyeballs, cut off his tongue, and then make him eat it—but now I'm very satisfied, even beyond my expectations." Apatara gently reached out her hand, trying to hook his chin. She was mercilessly dodged, but she didn't get angry. She leaned forward and exhaled sweetly: "My dear, why don't you abandon those boring and hypocritical white robes and run away with me? Believe me, tonight I will let you experience what bliss is~"

"How do you plan to escape?" The other person remained unmoved. "A scroll? Or a teleportation array—oh, a scroll."

The priestess pulled out a teleportation scroll from her bosom, and gave him a coquettish look through her veil.

"Behave, sweetheart—I don't want to knock you out. It would be heartbreaking."

The professor remained motionless, his pale face impassive, leaving the priestess perplexed. The man's eyes held neither the lust nor the contempt she was accustomed to, nor the confusion or fear. She seemed to be seducing a pale, desolate moon, but who could make it lower its gaze?

Just as the priestess was about to strike, the tightly closed door suddenly flew open, letting in a sea breeze, followed by a sudden burst of white light. The light-based lord's attack was like dropping hundreds of flares at once, blinding everyone.

Nova felt someone covering his eyes. He blinked, and an unfamiliar heat penetrated his thin skin, as if his eyeballs were about to be melted by the body temperature. He did not struggle. The wind smelt behind him, and in the darkness shimmering with warm light, he heard the sharp roar of Cardinal Pavaton Miller of the Glorious Church.

"Filthy pagan, shameless witch, wanton and self-depraved person—who allowed you to sneak into the place of light?"

The priestess smiled nonchalantly, "Dear Pavaton, men who are too picky are not pleasing to the eye."

So they naturally started fighting.

Following his companion's secret guidance, the professor decided to move away from the center of the battlefield. The priestess tried to reach out and grab him, but he dodged her with an incredible gesture. Her eyes widened slightly, but the next second, she was almost pierced through the arm by a gleaming chain.

Bishop Miller said coldly, "Mr. Brody, leave here—the other priests will protect you."

He dodged a lingering shadow snake with its fangs bared, and slammed his staff to the ground. As he chanted, countless chains of light suddenly rose from the ground, strangling the snakes surging in the ambiguous crimson mist with the force of thunder.

"You, bad boy—" Apatella, who was becoming increasingly clumsy, cursed angrily: "Do you really think these hypocritical white robes are good people? They will eat up your poor little thing until there is nothing left—"

Seeing that the man was about to run away like an agile cat, the priestess suddenly pulled off the veil in front of her eyes, her bright red lips slightly opened, and she burst into a wild and delighted scream.

Nova suddenly felt a sharp, excruciating pain in his head. Amidst his ecstatic cries, he caught a glimpse of Bishop Miller, also clutching his forehead, his brow furrowed. The scattered people outside the doorway all began to scream wildly, rushing towards the Virgin Etilo. The frenzied crowd immediately blocked his escape.

But before he could fully react, the pain suddenly disappeared from his body, and even the world around him became quiet and slow, as if he was watching a silent movie from a third-party perspective.

——Don’t do it.

Although he couldn't see anyone, the black-haired young man still accurately held down the arm of the person next to him.

Forces from all sides flocked to the scene, their only unwavering arrogance remaining. Hunters, focused only on their other guns, were unaware they had already been recorded by the Observers.

The identity of "ordinary person" is the best cover for Nova Brody. If he wants to play games with gods, he needs to gain more disdain from his enemies. Disdain leads to contempt, contempt gives rise to flaws, and flaws lead to destruction.

His companion's breath paused, and he finally relented. The wind embraced him tenderly and lovingly. Nova saw the priestess's face, slightly distorted. She had a pair of rare crimson eyes, swirling like a vortex, beautiful, enchanting, and alluring.

The crimson vortex really surged, and Nova once again saw a strange illusion - a ghostly, cold and ugly monster flew out of the vortex and tried to sink into his eyebrows. This time he even heard the thing talking.

“How beautiful, how bright, how powerful!” It, or perhaps it was she, laughing ecstatically: “Hahaha my, this time it’s me again—Ahhhhhhh!!!”

The horrifying screams and the ecstatic screams of the virgin Etilo were intertwined, and Nova's eardrums were swollen and painful, but the others seemed to hear nothing.

But soon, the priestess was struck by a beam of light and flew out, falling heavily to the ground. She stared unwillingly at the cold-looking black-haired young man not far away, while her hands nimbly tore open the teleportation scroll.

Almost the moment she disappeared, a giant lightsaber pierced through the floor beneath her.

Pavoton Miller withdrew his scepter with a gloomy expression. The person beside him, bewitched by the virgin Etilo, gradually regained consciousness and uttered painful moans, but fell silent when they met the Cardinal's gaze. If this weren't at sea, surrounded by their own people, there would be no chance that the followers of the God of Desire would survive.

The troublemaker, the Kraken, didn't care what happened on the ship. The hapless giant mollusk had already been torn to pieces by the ferocious humans, and now that the strange forces that had driven it had vanished, and with a moment's respite, it cleverly and quietly sank, disappearing from the surface of the sea without a trace.

Priestess Apatella on the other side was not so lucky. She was transported to an abandoned mill and fell directly into the cowshed, her long, soft and delicate hair becoming a tangled mess like weeds.

Ignoring her own injuries, the priestess knelt on the ground, covering the blooming rose on her burning neck.

"Forgive me, my Analene..."

Apatella muttered in panic, her expression changing constantly, like a destitute madman. She kept apologizing and begging humbly, interspersed with curses and resentment towards the Glorious Church.

"He's really smart, isn't he?" She finally whispered sweetly, as if she were coaxing a tantrum, even though she saw nothing. "I like him, and you will like him too. Only those fools with their eyes on the top of their heads in the Church of Radiance would hesitate and be picky... But this is also good. We still have a chance, don't you think, my dear Analenie?"

"...Analene?"

There was no response.

Apatara was silent for a moment, then slowly stood up. Following the incantation, the blood and dirt on her body disappeared, her wounds were covered by her robes, and the priestess regained her former beauty.

"...You're angry with me again." She said softly, "But it doesn't matter. It's my fault... I swear, I will get you everything you ask for."