PMEVBO 16

With less than two days left on the praise quest timer, there was nowhere left to retreat. So I decided to make a bold move.

“…Are you really going to sleep here?”

It was called Operation: Sleep Together.

What does sleeping together have to do with praise?

Nothing, really.

The purpose of this operation was to increase the time spent with Iser, hoping to find something, anything, worth praising. With no other means available, I’d stick to him like glue until that final praise was secured. Sleeping together tonight was part of that plan.

Meanwhile, Iser sighed as he looked at the bedding I’d brought out. His expression looked like he was facing the world’s greatest trial, which was pitiful, but also cute.

“Why? Is sleeping together still a bit much?”

Sleeping together tonight was already agreed upon, but if Iser had changed his mind in the meantime, I was willing to back down. After all, the important thing was that Iser was happy.

But.

“Huh? …No.”

No?

“You’re sure it’s no?”

“Yes.”

What? …Why is he being so docile?

Come to think of it, it was strange that Iser, who was clearly an MBTI capital I, would give up half his bed to someone not close to him like me. (Introvert)

‘Is it alright if I sleep here with you tonight?‘

‘……Why would you do that when you have a perfectly fine room?’

‘Because I’m scared to sleep alone.’

I couldn’t say some crazy nonsense about a ‘praise quest’ or whatever, so I just made up some random excuse.

Even I wasn’t convinced it was a particularly clever excuse. I figured I’d get told to shut up and get lost instead. Well, Iser would probably use a more polite version “leave” rather than harsh words like “get lost.” Even though he had a prickly personality, not cursing was one of this young master’s cute points.

But my prediction was spectacularly off the mark.

‘……Fine, then.’

Iser, whose pupils had been shaking, finally nodded.

What is this, kid?

……I can’t get used to this.

Iser’s displeased expression bothered me, but since he said he was fine, it felt weird to just leave him and go to my room now. In the end, feeling like a cruel adult tormenting a helpless child, I had no choice but to lie down beside Iser.

Though I lay beside him, there was enough space between us for an adult to stretch out comfortably. I had no choice if I wanted to avoid accidentally touching Iser in my sleep. Fortunately, the bed was large.

I’ll sleep with gloves on, so it should be fine.

Once I lay down, sleep eluded me. But I couldn’t just toss and turn recklessly, not when I wasn’t alone. Staring at the ceiling, I suddenly realized something was wrong.

It was too quiet. Turning my head, I could vaguely make out Iser lying completely still in the darkness, like someone placed in a coffin.

No way…

A foreboding sense washed over me like cold water poured over my head.

“Iser.”

The reply came immediately.

“What?”

It was a clear voice, not drowsy. Because of that, my foreboding turned into certainty.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“……Five years ago.”

Fuck me, even the devil would weep.

“……I can understand skimping on food to save money. But why didn’t they let you sleep?”

He wasn’t just worse than a dog; he was worse than the devil himself. Duke Hayut, this bastard who’s just like the original Lucariel……

But Iser’s real point of anger lay elsewhere.

“You think I’m a baby? That I need you to put me to sleep? I didn’t sleep because I didn’t want to.”

“What? Why?”

“……Just because I didn’t feel like it.”

Well, tied up tight like that, in a situation where you never knew when violence or exploitation might strike, sleeping might actually be torture. You can’t keep watch on your surroundings while you’re asleep.

He’d probably hate this analogy, but since arriving here, Iser had acted like a rescued stray dog. Even after reaching the temporary shelter, he couldn’t relax enough to enjoy food or sleep, still clinging to his street habits.

Once we left this hideout and escaped the duke’s grasp entirely, he’d naturally improve. But as his nominal temporary guardian, I wanted to at least offer.

“How about you try sleeping a little from now on…?”

“…Yes.”

Unlike during meals, his willingness to comply was somewhat touching.

But Iser, stiff as a board and holding his breath, looked like a rabbit playing dead. Plus, a tightly clenched fist lay on the blanket. What, was he planning to fight someone all night?

“You’ll scare away any sleep that was coming if you are so tense.”

“What? …What are you doing?”

What else? Helping him relax, of course. I propped my chin on my hand beside Iser, patted his chest, and asked brazenly.

“Doesn’t this feel a bit more reassuring?”

“Reassuring? Come to think of it, you did this last time too…”

Last time? When exactly? But Iser stopped mid-sentence, bit his lip, and changed the subject.

“…You’re treating me like a kid.”

“No. There’s no age limit for liking stuff like this.”

Then Iser asked, looking baffled.

“When did I ever say I liked this kind of thing?”

“I like it.”

That was true. When I was little and scared to sleep alone, I’d grab a pillow and barge into my brother’s room. He’d pat me like this until I fell asleep, and I loved it. Even now as an adult, when my brother occasionally pats me like that, I’ll grimace and say, “What the hell are you doing?” but deep down, I liked it.

“Maybe you’re just still a kid.”

“Oh, is that so?”

It was kind of funny hearing someone call me a kid at twenty-five. I was smiling when Iser’s clear blue eyes met mine.

When our eyes met, Iser’s body flinched and trembled.

“I don’t like this kind of thing.”

Saying that, he flung the blanket over his head.

That statement was quickly exposed as a lie.

Ping!

────【 Sub Quest 】────

Praise ‘Iser Hayut’!

(3/3)

D-1 (44h 23m 1s)

Success!

────────────────

I covered my mouth with my hand and gasped.

…You don’t like it? You love it.

How much do you have to like it to be happy about something like this? You dishonest blanket-hugger.

In the end, I couldn’t stop the sincerity seeping through my fingers.

“Iser, you’re really cute.”

“What?”

Iser flung the blanket off. I laughed softly as I physically overpowered the kid, who was huffing and puffing while trying to sit up, and forced him back down.

────【 Sub Quest 】────

A short while later,

Skill Draw Ticket (1x)

will be awarded as a reward.

────────────────

***

The Frozen Sea Castle.

This was the northern castle of the imperial palace, opened by the Emperor for the Pope and his entourage who had returned to the imperial capital after seventeen years.

Archbishop Tykvana was dining in the Frozen Sea Castle’s dining hall. However, the insane words spewed by her fellow archbishop made it impossible for her to focus on her daily sustenance any longer.

“…Archbishop Abet, what did you just say?”

“I said I bribed a maid from Duke Hayut’s household using your name. I planned to poison that bastard Lucariel.”

Archbishop Abet, Atsula, bared his sharp fangs and grinned yellowly.

“Are you mad…?!

“Tykvana, you said you didn’t like that bastard anyway.”

“No, when did I ever say that…!?”

Atsula wasn’t wrong. Tykvana despised Lucariel. She was fundamentally incapable of liking someone like Lucariel.

What kind of person was Lucariel?

‘Ignorant, rude, and violent….’

But Tykvana knew it too. She knew she was unusually harsh only toward Lucariel. The proof was right before her eyes: Atsula was also ignorant, rude, and violent. Yet no matter how repulsive he was, he wasn’t as unbearably repulsive as Lucariel.

The reason Tykvana couldn’t stand Lucariel.

That was because of her feelings toward His Holiness the Pope…….

“Anyway, that bastard Lucariel is exiled in Hayut Castle. They’ll dispose of the corpse there too, so what’s the problem?”

“…What’s the problem?”

Does he genuinely not know?

“Do I need to start by reminding you the holy book says ‘Thou shalt not kill’? …No, more importantly, why are you dragging my name through the mud for your own reckless crime!?”

“I was planning to pin it on you if things got dicey.”

Tykvana was dumbfounded by the audacious, insane logic.

“This bastard just keeps pushing it—”

“Hey, don’t get worked up. We won’t get caught. Turns out that maid has a sick old mother. Whether we succeed or fail, she won’t confess you were behind it.”

Not only had this scum used the name of a fellow archbishop for a crime, but he’d also taken the maid’s sickly old mother hostage and instigated murder. Tykvana had no idea what to do with him.

She had no choice but to say the words she most hated to speak aloud.

“Don’t you know His Holiness the Pope cherishes Priest Nebella? If he dies there, His Holiness will investigate every detail of the circumstances.”

“No, I doubt it.”

Atsula grinned as he grabbed a cut piece of steak with his hand and popped it into his mouth.

“His Holiness never once punished that good-for-nothing Lucariel, no matter what nonsense he pulled. But last time was different. Don’t you see what that means?”

“……”

“It means that bastard’s days of favor are over. Finished.”

Atsula emphasized the word ‘finished’ as he rubbed the tablecloth. Black steak sauce stained the pristine white fabric. Like a line drawn through a wrong answer.

“His Holiness probably couldn’t care less if that bastard lives or dies now, right?”