The Nerd Next Door Turned Out To Be The Magic Tower Master - Chapter 8

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 8
Just as Hilten had anticipated, his superior was far worse than merely difficult—he was a living nightmare.
Given Hilten’s nature, he couldn’t speak a false word even if a blade were at his throat, so he’d persisted in saying only what was right. Yet whenever his superior fixed him with that chilling gaze, cold sweat would creep down his spine and his hands would tremble.
‘At this rate, I won’t live to see the end of my contract.’
Then one day, while he was seriously contemplating resignation, his superior underwent a sudden transformation.
As if something had struck his head, the man began accumulating dark robes, and along with them came a complete reversal—his listless tone and frigid demeanor both vanished entirely.
A month ago, he’d finally abandoned the Magic Tower altogether and left.
‘And of all places, he settled right next door to the Marquis’s estate.’
What’s more, he was approaching the saint with that repulsive appearance of his.
Surely he harbored some sinister purpose.
But what horrifying scheme might be brewing in that head, Hilten neither wanted to know nor cared to understand.
He simply wanted to escape his doubled workload, born from the Tower Master’s absence, as soon as possible.
“So when do you intend to return?”
“Don’t know.”
“……Then who decides, exactly?”
“Not me, so it’s not my choice to make.”
‘What kind of absurd nonsense is this.’
Both the contents of the statement and the head uttering it were enough to make him want to scream.
‘I want to quit so badly.’
Hilten was barely restraining the urge to bellow his frustrations when—
“Anything else?”
Lien, having pushed back his robe, scraped his disheveled hair back roughly.
With his face finally revealed, not a trace of emotion remained in it.
‘As if a man like that would ever play the lamb.’
Each time his superior’s true nature suddenly broke through, the temperature seemed to plummet another ten degrees.
Trapped in an unrelenting tension he couldn’t adjust to, Hilten’s hands clenched slowly.
“I’ve stationed a watcher at ‘that place.'”
“I know.”
“……You’ve already dealt with them?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you…….”
Hilten’s words trailed off. He’d noticed where his superior’s gaze lingered.
The shovel in the corner, darkened to blackness. And beyond the window, the daisy flower bed.
……The watchers had likely become excellent fertilizer by now.
He pretended not to grasp this chilling truth and continued his report faithfully.
“I’ve put eyes on them as ordered, but catching their tails won’t be easy. And moving directly here yourself—is that perhaps…….”
“J-just keep watching.”
Lien, slipping back into his practiced stammering tone, spoke coldly.
‘As if faltering speech makes everything look innocent.’
Disgusted though he was, Hilten hadn’t yet volunteered to become the second pile of fertilizer, so he bowed his head in silence.
* * *
They say you only appreciate something when it’s gone.
Inside the swaying carriage.
Cecilia was acutely experiencing the preciousness of the twenty-first century’s remarkable advances in transportation.
‘A world with magic and divine energy, and the main transport is still a carriage? How does that make sense?’
It wasn’t her first time riding in one, so she’d braced herself somewhat, but she’d never imagined she’d adapt so poorly.
Beyond the abominably slow pace came a truly dreadful ride quality that was generating nausea where none had existed before.
“Cecilia. Are you about to faint?”
Unlike her, who was deteriorating by the second, Knox had been sitting across from her in an elegant posture the whole time. He now closed his book.
“This is rather troublesome. And we haven’t even gone halfway yet.”
He regarded her with a look of concern.
“If you truly can’t bear it, please tell me. Walking all the way to the Cathedral isn’t actually impossible.”
“……Really?”
“Yes—it’ll take a full day if you don’t dawdle. Or rather, with those short legs of yours, maybe two?”
……There was no concern in that at all.
The gentle smile playing at his lips was a sneer, and by now she didn’t even need to think twice about it.
‘Don’t be fooled.’
“I hope you bite your own tongue off.”
“Cecilia, I think your true feelings just slipped out.”
You did that on purpose, you bastard.
Cecilia turned her head away from her useless brother and cast her gaze out the carriage window.
Beyond the hazy glass, lush greenery and a richly saturated sky drifted leisurely past.
‘Perfect weather for a walk, and here I am suffering like this.’
There was one reason she was enduring this misery inside the carriage.
It was because of a proposal the Marquis had extended a few days ago in the garden.
[The Relief Festival will begin soon. Shouldn’t you pay your respects to the Pope beforehand?]
[Ah…….]
[Especially since your role in this Relief Festival will be significant, Cecilia.]
Though phrased as a suggestion, it was in fact a command—refusal was impossible.
She still bore the responsibilities of Webdine, even if she was a ‘false’ Holy Maiden.
[Very well.]
On that first day, accepting without much deliberation had even left her somewhat excited.
It was her first outing in ages, except for the early stages of her possession.
But the moment she heard that not only would her partner be accompanying her, but they’d also have to travel by carriage, her spirits plummeted as if by magic.
Still, the one saving grace was that the Holy See—the former empire’s capital and seat of the Grand Cathedral—lay close to Webdine’s territory.
Having exhausted every ounce of patience she possessed, Cecilia was on the verge of surrendering to motion sickness when, miraculously, the carriage came to a halt.
“Holy Maiden, Young Master. We have arrived.”
Before the coachman could finish speaking, Cecilia was already on her feet.
There was no time for the luxury of descending with elegant escort.
‘I need to get out now!’
Gripped by that singular thought, Cecilia yanked open the carriage door with a bang and stepped out.
But there were two things she had overlooked. First, numerous priests had come out to greet their distinguished visitors. Second, her legs were shakier than usual from the motion sickness.
Before dozens of onlookers, her unsteady body tilted forward.
‘This is humiliating.’
At that grim premonition, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Yet as time passed, no sympathetic sighs erupted from those around her.
Instead of hitting dirt, Cecilia struck something as solid as a wall and snapped her eyes open.
“Are you unharmed?”
A knight with a head taller than hers and a face not entirely unfamiliar to her was holding her firmly upright.
“Ah, thank you. So…….”
“Vice-Commander of the Holy Knight Order, Miguel.”
“Commander Miguel.”
“Yes, Holy Maiden.”
The man’s silver hair swayed gently in the breeze as he answered softly.
Below that, she found herself gazing up into eyes as serene as a lake, a deep blue.
The lines that composed the man’s features were rugged, yet they harbored a softness like fully bloomed petals.
……In a word, he had an enchanting face.
Cecilia suddenly recalled the moment she had first met him.
It was when several high priests had visited the Marquis’s residence on an errand from the Pope.
Among the white-haired elders, a single man in silver armor radiated an overwhelming presence.
[My word, Melanie, do you see that person?]
[What?]
[Wow, maybe this really is straight out of a book.]
Even though it was early in her possession, when she was still burrowing deep into despair, his presence erased all such gloom.
[Miss, I’m not sure what you’re saying, but that person is absolutely not an option.]
[No, I’m not trying to do anything like that…….]
Her expression must have been obvious. Embarrassed, Cecilia let out a small cough.
[I was simply curious about his name.]
[There’s no need to know. He’s a Holy Knight!]
[What’s that got to do with anything?]
[Because they’ve devoted both body and soul to God.]
[Ah.]
In other words, forbidden fruit—the grapes you cannot have.
‘My interest vanished right then.’
While the reunion itself was surprising, that was all there was to it.
Having regarded him as one would a work of art, with simple appreciation, Cecilia stepped away from the foreign man’s embrace.
“Miguel, why not look after the Young Master as well, instead of just the Holy Maiden?”
Knox emerged from the carriage after her and addressed the knight with considerable familiarity.
“You know Commander Miguel?”
“Know him? He’s an old friend of mine.”
Knox draped an arm across Miguel’s broad shoulders with the ease of old familiarity.
“Right?”
“Unfortunately…… yes.”
“You misspoke—it should have been ‘fortunately.'”
‘That doesn’t seem right at all.’
The way Miguel looked at Knox felt strangely similar to how she herself regarded him.
A mixture of faint irritation and disdain.
Yet for Knox, it was clear that others’ contempt functioned as his reward. The man who’d been grinning suddenly wore a melancholy expression.
“Our Cecilia’s jealous, isn’t she? Don’t worry. I know you haven’t got a friend in the world, and you can barely manage to step out of a carriage properly, but your brother will be everything—family, friend, all of it.”
‘From the way he talks, you’d think he’s actually being a decent older brother.’
The only reality was that he was mocking her friendless state, which was truly lamentable.
“Move.”
Cecilia’s frigid dismissal came with a sharp stomp on Knox’s fidgeting foot.
“Cecilia, you’re hurting your brother’s foot.”
“Good.”
“Won’t you move your foot?”
“Only if you disappear from my sight this instant.”
At her cold rebuttal, Knox finally fell silent.
Miguel, who had been watching the siblings’ childish quarrel from the first-class compartment, turned his back on Knox as well.
“I understand you’ve come to meet His Holiness, but I’m afraid he’s still receiving the faithful at the moment.”
“That’s fine. We can wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
“Thank you for your understanding. Would you care to visit the Prayer Room first?”
“Miguel? I said I don’t want to.”
“Very well.”
“Then give me your hand.”
Perhaps because of her earlier mishap, Miguel suddenly extended his hand.
It seemed he meant to escort her personally, lest she stumble again.
His kindness was appreciated, but her nausea had faded enough that she hardly needed assistance.
“I’m fine. Now I should be able to walk on my own…… though perhaps not. Yes, I accept your help.”
The moment she glimpsed the disappointment crossing his face, she swiftly changed her words.
She placed her hand on his arm—solid as iron—and Miguel offered a quiet smile.
It was the response of a servant of God who had made compassion and service the meaning of his life.
The fact that she, no saint herself, was being escorted by the vice-captain of the Holy Knight Order struck her as less heartwarming than overwhelming, but…
Her character hadn’t yet rotted enough to spit in the face of kindness.
Fortunately, the Prayer Room was not far.
Miguel came to a halt before a door carved densely with irises and passionflowers, flowers called the blooms of God.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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