My Nerdy Neighbor Is the Master of the Magic Tower
Chapter 11
What he held was a white handkerchief. As he pulled back a single layer of the cloth, the stiffened carcass of a bird was revealed inside.
“I found it fallen directly beneath the prayer room window. It appears it failed to notice the glass while in flight and collided with it.”
Just as he said, the area around the dead bird’s head was a bloody mess. The half-crushed head was quite gruesome to behold.
With a short sigh, the Pope took the dead bird from him. He covered it with the handkerchief once more and offered a brief prayer for the life that had met such an unfortunate end.
“Born of the heavens and returning to the heavens, may you be eternally free under the call of the Gods.”
“The bird is so small…. It’s so pitiful.”
Perhaps her compassion outweighed her fear of the horrific sight, for tears welled up again in Sena’s still-damp eyes.
“All life and death follow the will of the Gods.”
The Pope replied, stroking the girl’s hair.
‘The will of the Gods, my foot.’
The bird smashing its head into a window and dying, and me almost getting my own head pierced because of it—all of that is the will of the Gods?
If that’s the case, he’s closer to a demon than a god.
I really shouldn’t have stopped at just raising my middle finger; I should have spat out a few curses too.
I was glaring at the small statue of the Goddess on the table, harboring such blasphemous thoughts, when a calm voice suddenly cut in.
“Though it seems the Gods have made an error in judgment this time.”
‘What? Did I think out loud again?’
I hurriedly clamped my mouth shut, but everyone’s shocked gazes were directed not at her, but at the Pope.
“……Your Holiness?”
It was a profanity so great that it was hard to believe it had come from the mouth of the Gods’ representative. Yet, the man himself merely shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
“They say fierce fires and hundreds of hammer blows forge a sharp weapon, but a tragedy where an innocent life is extinguished can hardly be considered a meaningful trial or hardship.”
“…….”
“Most of all, because the Saintess was nearly harmed.”
His voice toward her was infinitely soft and nothing but tender.
Just like back then.
[It happens that walking is a hobby of mine as well. May I accompany you? It’s a bit worn out, but please accept this as a bribe.]
When she had been wandering in a strange body and environment after waking up in the Temple, the Pope had readily knelt before her as she ran out of her room barefoot, willingly taking off his own shoes to put them on her feet.
She stared blankly at the kind smile that reminded her of that time.
Was that consideration because he was a man of God? Or was it because he was Cecilia’s godfather?
The man’s warm hand was now gently patting the back of her hand.
‘Ah.’
A heartwarming atmosphere formed, enough to make one side of her heart feel heavy for no reason.
“I will take proper measures to ensure such an accident never occurs again.”
Actually, it formed and then vanished.
‘Don’t tell me he’s talking about the Relief Festival ceremony when he says “next time."’
“So that the Saintess may participate in the ceremony with peace of mind.”
‘I knew it.’
Since there had been an accident, she thought the matter would be brushed aside and forgotten.
‘Was all that worrying just a build-up to get me to do the ceremony or whatever?’
The touch of emotion that had bloomed modestly in her chest like a sprout was uprooted in an instant.
Clicking her tongue inwardly, Cecilia glanced down at her hand held by the Pope.
‘Maybe a future living with a hand that glows on its own would have been better than being pointed at as a Saintess who can’t even use Divine Power.’
Unfortunately, however, her hand had not glowed even a little for some time now.
It was around sunset when she finally escaped the one-on-one meeting room with the Pope—which was masquerading as a recovery room.
After escaping the Pope, who was asking about her next visit to the Temple, Cecilia buried the bird in a sunny spot with Sena before finally preparing to return to the estate.
‘I want to lie down in bed as soon as possible. I want to aggressively do nothing.’
Whether before or after the possession, for a person who spent twenty-three out of twenty-four hours a day cooped up indoors, today’s schedule was excessively harsh.
Her energy completely drained, Cecilia trudged along, when she suddenly felt a void to her left.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming?”
Knox, who had been clinging to her annoyingly, had stopped a few paces behind.
“Cece, go home first. I’m going to check on the situation a bit more before I leave.”
“What situation?”
Just a moment ago, hadn’t they buried the cause of today’s accident in the ground?
‘Isn’t he just using that as an excuse to slack off?’
Cecilia narrowed her fatigue-laden eyes. She had heard that Knox had been quite busy helping the Marquis with work immediately after returning to the Capital. It was plausible that he wouldn’t want to go home so easily.
When she asked back, unable to hide her distrust of his plausible hypothesis, Knox replied with a rare display of firmness.
“Because it might not have been an accident.”
What was with that meaningful line?
‘Is he just acting all serious because he wants to change the subject?’
This, too, was a reasonable suspicion. However, she was too exhausted to press him further. Cecilia gave a half-hearted nod.
“Fine, whatever.”
“So don’t get distracted and go straight home, alright?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Miguel, please look after our girl for me!”
As if he really intended to investigate personally, he turned away without much reaction to her prickly response.
In the end, the only one left was Miguel, who had followed along saying he would escort her to the main gate.
“Um, shall we go?”
“Yes.”
When they were first guided to the Prayer Room, it was fine because Knox was there, running his mouth non-stop. But walking side-by-side with a man who was both stoic and unfamiliar made her feel so awkward she could hardly breathe.
“Ahem!”
Unable to endure the continuing silence, she let out a dry cough for no reason.
However, the steadfast Holy Knight must have taken it as an early symptom of illness, for his expression immediately hardened into a serious frown.
“Do you feel unwell?”
“No, it’s just….”
“I was thoughtless, considering you just went through such a major ordeal.”
“Pardon?”
“I shall carry you.”
Do all the people at the Temple have a habit of getting ahead of themselves without listening to others?
At the absurd suggestion, Cecilia cried out in a burst of shock.
“No, thank you!”
‘Ah, did I sound too disgusted?’
Of course, the experience of being held in those broad, solid arms would be very valuable, but the man was the Vice Commander of the Holy Knights.
He wasn’t someone to play around with like Lien, and above all, she still had a tiny sliver of conscience left—not enough to shamelessly let herself be carried.
“……You disliked the idea that much.”
She must have been too loud after all.
His half-raised arm dropped back to his side. Was it just her imagination that his slumped shoulders looked bitter?
Cecilia hurriedly added an excuse.
“It’s not that I disliked it, I just felt bad for you.”
“You don’t have to comfort me. I’m used to being rejected.”
“What? You are, Sir?”
Cecilia momentarily lost her sense of reality and looked up at the man skeptically.
Shimmering silver hair fluttering in the wind. Blue eyes wavering in the sunset, and broad shoulders and a solid physique that made his unadorned white formal uniform look uncomfortable.
“Yes. Especially since every lady I’ve escorted has turned red in the face and trembled as if they were extremely displeased….”
‘That’s probably because their hearts were fluttering and they were nervous.’
It was a familiar trope. He’s introverted, stoic, good at fighting, and on top of that, so handsome that his popularity is exploding—but he’s the only one who doesn’t know. Even the main characters and the most minor of background characters send him adoring glances, but he’s the only one who doesn’t notice!
And the protagonist of that ridiculous trope was right here.
“It probably wasn’t out of displeasure. I can guarantee that in the name of Weberdin.”
The man tilted his head slightly. He seemed curious as to the reason.
‘Isn’t it because their hearts flutter every time you do that, Sir?’
Cecilia swallowed the line that was highly inappropriate to say to a holy man and hurriedly turned her head away. Even though she and Lien weren’t anything yet, her inner Confucian standards would never allow her heart to flutter for another man.
Just then, a group of priests caught her eye. Perhaps the place they were passing was near where the accident occurred, for they were busy cleaning up beneath a familiar building.
“It seems they haven’t finished tidying up yet.”
“Yes, because the accident happened in the Second Prayer Room of all places….”
Miguel trailed off as if he were troubled.
Unlike the main prayer room where the Pope and the believers had been, the Second Prayer Room was smaller in scale but had an entire side of the ceiling made of stained glass.
Why on earth did a bird have to fly into that specific spot?
‘What rotten luck.’
“I see.”
Cecilia stared blankly at the gaping ceiling and the colorful debris scattered all over the ground outside the building.
The glass shards reflecting the sunlight looked just like broken soju bottles….
‘Wait, outside the building?’
She came to a dead stop.
She hadn’t noticed at the time because she was so frantic, but….
If a bird had flown in from the outside, shouldn’t most of the fragments have showered inward?
