“Young Master Abel!”
“The hero is here!”
“Quick, quick, let me see!”
After a brief silence, the crowd exploded like a poked hornet’s nest with a buzz.
The nobles who had been sitting reservedly in their seats all stood up, surging toward Abel with astonishing speed.
Before Abel could react, he was surrounded by layers of ornate figures, packed so tightly not even water could seep through.
“Sir Abel! I am the steward of the Northern Earl’s family, representing the earl in extending the highest respects to you! This is our gift list—”
“Out of the way, out of the way! Look at ours first! The Southern Chamber of Commerce is willing to offer an annual tribute of fifty thousand gold coins to hire you as honorary president!”
“Young Master Abel is truly young and promising! How old are you this year? Are you betrothed? My daughter is just sixteen, with dignified appearance, proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting…”
“My niece is also excellent! Gentle temperament, skilled in cooking—absolutely a virtuous wife and good mother!”
“Speaking of which, I’m going on a long trip next week, and my wife and daughter will be quite lonely at home. If Young Master Abel has time…”
Abel was stunned speechless by this spectacle.
Pushing daughters was one thing, but what was with that fatty hinting about his wife and daughter being lonely?! Were nobles’ moral bottom lines this flexible?!
He was forced to accept gift list after gift list, his ears filled with a cacophony of invitations and pitches:
“We have a private banquet at our family tomorrow night—please do us the honor!”
“Please make sure to attend the hunting event this weekend!”
“Next month is my daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony—this is the invitation…”
“Our theater has a new opera production—this is a ticket for the VIP box…”
Abel nodded, shook his head, waved, and declined mechanically, feeling like a puppet repeating actions nonstop.
Fine sweat beaded on his forehead, and the shirt on his back was already soaked.
Mommy, fighting a boss wasn’t even this hard! Although Abel was also of noble birth, those were childhood memories— in recent years, he’d been wandering as a drifter, where had he seen such a scene?
Big Brother! Save me!
And just as this thought popped up, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a familiar figure on the stairs.
Julius had come downstairs at some point, now elegantly leaning against the stair railing, holding a glass of red wine, a smile of amusement on his lips as he leisurely watched his younger brother struggle in the crowd.
He actually looked like he was enjoying the show!?
Abel nearly choked on his breath.
He silently noted it down in his heart: This grudge is recorded!
“Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen—”
An elderly but vigorous voice overpowered the noise.
Butler Sebas finally broke through the encirclement, squeezing to Abel’s side and raising his volume: “Young Master Abel is weary from his travels and needs rest! Please return to your seats—Lord Marquis has prepared tea and snacks, everyone can—”
Abel felt touched inside—still, the old butler was a good person!
However, his voice was quickly drowned in the tide of people, not stirring a single ripple.
Just as Abel felt he was about to faint.
“Bishop Sephilia has arrived—!”
The announcement from outside the door acted like an invisible spell, instantly freezing the entire hall’s clamor.
All sounds stopped abruptly.
The nobles who had been fervent moments ago all shut their mouths in unison, their expressions turning subtle and cautious.
Most of them were indeed here to watch the excitement.
Winning over the Noct family’s second son? Just think about it.
Did the marquis family lack money? Lack power? Lack connections?
The benefits they could offer, Marquis Julius could provide—and more.
As for offending the church? Even less necessary.
The Chronos Church was the largest sect on the continent, with deep-rooted influence in the royal capital.
To touch Bishop Sephilia’s bad side for a hero who was almost impossible to win over? Unless their brains were broken.
So at this moment, everyone tacitly chose silence, even quietly stepping back half a step, completely yielding the stage to the church.
The crowd automatically parted to both sides, clearing a path straight from the door to the center of the hall.
Abel took the chance to catch his breath, looking toward the door.
The Chronos Church’s carriage stopped in front of the marquis mansion, its pure white body inlaid with golden clock emblems, gleaming under the sunlight.
The carriage door opened, and a pair of long legs in white boots stepped out.
Bishop Sephilia was dressed even more formally today than yesterday—a pure white bishop’s robe embroidered with intricate chronos runes in gold thread, the collar standing high, accentuating her long neck like a swan’s elegance.
Her orange-red long hair was neatly coiled at the back of her head, with only a few stray strands hanging by her cheeks.
In her hand was a silver staff symbolizing the bishop’s authority, the clock gem at the top slowly rotating, emitting a soft halo.
Most eye-catching was the person behind her.
Besides two accompanying priests, there was a girl in an exquisite nun’s habit.
Golden long hair braided into two plaits hanging in front of her chest, azure eyes clear as water, her face carrying a bit of baby fat—she looked no more than fifteen or sixteen.
Her hands were folded in front of her, head slightly lowered in a deferential posture, but when she occasionally glanced up sneakily, her eyes sparkled with curiosity and unease.
“May the blessings of the God of Chronos be with you all.”
Sephilia stepped into the hall, her voice gentle yet carrying an unquestionable authority.
Her gaze swept the room, finally landing on Abel, her orange eyes curving into a perfectly measured arc.
“Young Master Abel, forgive the unannounced visit.” She walked up to Abel, nodding slightly. “We parted hastily yesterday, and there were many words yet to be discussed in detail. Today, I came specially to pay a visit, and also…”
Her gaze turned to the golden-haired nun beside her, her tone becoming even softer:
“To introduce. This is Aiko, the church’s newly appointed candidate saintess, and also my most valued disciple.”
Aiko lifted her head, her azure eyes looking toward Abel, cheeks slightly flushed, timidly performing a curtsy: “L-Lord Abel, good day. I’ve heard of your heroic deeds yesterday… I admire them greatly.”
Her voice was soft and sticky, carrying the unique sweetness of a girl.
Abel narrowed his eyes slightly, appraising Aiko—this one was also an SSR in the original game, with a harmless, pitiful appearance that greatly aroused players’ protective instincts.
However, in the original plot, she was in charge of selling yuri CP—she and Ingrid were a pair of best friends!
Almost inseparable, as representative characters of the church, those ‘compassionate and merciful’ saintly speeches almost all came from her and Ingrid’s mouths! The two were like a comedy duo in harmony, which had made Abel, as a player back then, so angry he spat blood.
As long as they walk long enough, today’s so-called mistakes are just an insignificant part on the scale of life…
The great Chronos is tolerant and merciful. Blind killing cannot solve problems—for these people who erred, shouldn’t we give them a chance to reform?
Abel recalled the past events, involuntarily sucking in a cold breath, instinctively labeling this golden-haired girl smiling and extending her hand to him as ‘saintess’ and ‘do not approach.’
After introducing Aiko, Sephilia revealed a gentle smile, stepping forward until her body was almost pressed against Abel’s—this made Julius nearby frown slightly.
“Young Master Abel, if you don’t mind, please let Aiko accompany you on the journey ahead. Although her support divine arts are lacking, she has unique attainments in offensive divine arts—she’ll definitely be of help to you!”
Pausing, the bishop continued with a smile. “Moreover, she is our church’s new saintess!”
With that, Aiko gazed at Abel with a flushed face.
Here it came.
The church’s “beauty trap.”
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