“Agree?”
Fake Lord glanced sideways at Moya and sneered.
“How could she possibly agree?”
“As a middle-aged Sierfu family head whose physical condition is steadily declining and whose sense of life slipping away is becoming more and more apparent, although she’s now enjoying the experience of youthful heterosexuality using my body, do you expect her to just stand by and watch her original, decaying body get injured?”
“She’s long lost the vigor of youth. I tested her intentions before. If it weren’t for her identity as a beggar, she wouldn’t mind using my flesh to enjoy the feeling of regained youth at all.”
Fake Lord was smug, extremely confident in his judgment.
He heard it with his own ears—how could it be false? Lying wouldn’t benefit the current situation much.
Upon hearing Fake Lord’s explanation, Aide and Moya each had their own reactions.
Aide clearly noticed that the Beggar Girl didn’t mind, even accepted the information about this immature, somewhat childish body, and considered what changes this information might bring.
Moya, on the other hand, dismissed Fake Lord’s words, letting them go in one ear and out the other.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re right about everything. But I still have a way.”
Moya’s tone started to carry impatience, and the feathered ears on her head twitched restlessly.
The back-and-forth with Fake Lord had already entered garbage time.
“How is that possible? What way could you have!”
Fake Lord’s eyelid twitched.
Although his tone was still confident, his smugness began to fade, clearly uneasy at Moya’s certainty.
“I’ll persuade her myself. She’ll agree.”
“On what basis?”
“Why say so much? Is it something a little brat like you can understand?”
Moya casually brushed off Fake Lord’s challenge.
She had no interest and no obligation to tell the Fake Lord in front of her that the soul’s true form was still a naive beggar girl who grew up wandering the streets.
A waste of saliva.
“You!”
Fake Lord was clearly angered by Moya’s dismissive “little brat” retort, his face turning red with rage.
For a moment, Fake Lord had the thought of having the guards expel these two.
But as soon as he saw Aide’s calm, placid eyes, the anger that had just risen in Fake Lord was extinguished by his gaze.
‘I absolutely must not act rashly.’
This was the deepest lesson he had learned during his few days of aristocratic life.
According to the Beggar Girl’s teachings, even if the Sierfu family had immense status and wealth, there were still many figures under heaven that he couldn’t afford to offend.
Just like when he was still a stinking beggar, the most critical point in pickpocketing was distinguishing who could be stolen from, who couldn’t, what could be stolen, and what, if stolen, would lead to a massive search and then execution.
For example, the king of the Royal Capital.
Fake Lord didn’t know much about Aide’s background; he had only learned from the aged steward that Aide was a hero from the northern nation, nothing else, not even his hero title.
But not knowing was fine; knowing that his status was high was enough.
Although Fake Lord hadn’t yet found out Aide’s true identity, seeing how even the king treated Aide politely.
Fake Lord understood that Aide, like the king, was someone who absolutely could not be offended, which was also one of the reasons he dared to propose a trade with Aide.
Since Aide couldn’t be offended, then Moya, who kept a fairly close distance to Aide and allowed Aide to sit beside her, obviously couldn’t be offended either;
Offending her wasn’t much different from offending Aide directly.
“Hmph!”
Finally, Fake Lord took a deep breath.
His body, which had just stood up to rage, sat back down heavily, choosing to endure.
Before the body swap, he was indeed young, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t endure.
“So where is the Beggar Girl? Hurry up and take us to her.”
Seeing Fake Lord’s final action of sitting down silently, Moya raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised at his choice.
Fake Lord didn’t reply, his face full of reluctance.
“Lord of the house, we came on the king’s orders. Your continued refusal to return the body has already made things difficult for the Royal Capital. If you stubbornly refuse to cooperate, the Royal Capital may take other actions, even at the risk of the Sierfu family head’s body swap incident being discovered by others.”
Seeing that Fake Lord still didn’t respond, Aide spoke softly.
“…Still in the same place. Follow me.”
Aide’s advice sealed the deal.
Fake Lord bit his lip resentfully, going from full confidence at the beginning to now having to help Moya and Aide.
The frustration in his heart was self-evident.
Passing through the winding corridors of the mansion, still the same path to the basement as last time, Fake Lord took out a key, opened the underground passage in the corner, and entered the basement.
This time, the Beggar Girl’s living environment had improved considerably.
Although Fake Lord was still unwilling to let the now-calm Beggar Girl go, it was clear that he had been diligently improving her living conditions.
The basement was much brighter than last time, with several magical lamps on the walls.
The surrounding decor had clearly been lavishly decorated by professionals.
In the corner, there was a clean, slightly luxurious bed, where the Beggar Girl was sleeping soundly, taking a nap.
“The body she’s using now is my past, after all. I definitely can’t stand to see my past body suffer.”
Seeing both Moya and Aide’s eyes turn to him, Fake Lord stammered:
“Besides, she taught me a lot of things. To be safe, I won’t let her go, but I won’t mistreat her either.”
“But have you considered that as long as you don’t return her body, you are always mistreating her?”
Upon hearing Fake Lord’s thoughts, Moya retorted without a second thought, making Fake Lord look somewhat embarrassed.
“Stop it. At least he has good intentions. There’s no need to be so harsh.”
Realizing that Moya’s language was becoming more aggressive due to her work-related irritation, Aide quickly stood up and spoke to ease the atmosphere.
“Again?”
The Beggar Girl, who had been napping, was awakened by the voices.
She frowned the moment she saw Fake Lord, but then her brow relaxed when she saw Moya’s cloaked figure from before, her eyes showing obvious delight.
“Divine Envoy!”
‘Here we go again.’
Seeing the Beggar Girl’s reaction, Fake Lord muttered inwardly.
He still didn’t know Moya’s true identity under the cloak; he could only guess from the divine power last time that she was a clergy member from the church, perfectly matching the Beggar Girl’s fanatical believer personality.
But even fanatics have normal emotions.
The Beggar Girl, as the true head of the Sierfu family, wasn’t an extremist who made faith her entire life’s work, or she would have devoted herself to the cause of faith long ago.
‘Would such a Beggar Girl really change her mind just because of Moya’s words?’
“This…”
Sure enough, upon hearing Moya’s advice for her to agree to let the Royal Capital take free action to convince Fake Lord to return the body, the Beggar Girl, who had been delighted, showed hesitation.
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