To clear up the misunderstanding as quickly as possible, Greg immediately spoke up to explain:
“Allie, did you misunderstand something? She and I didn't rekindle our old flame!”
Allie stopped in her tracks and turned around. Her amber eyes stared straight at him, filled with scrutiny and suspicion. “Then why were you walking the streets with her?”
“The only reason she walked the streets with me today was because she wanted to return a favor.”
Greg explained at a rapid-fire pace:
“If we hadn't happened to run into each other at the academy gates, neither of us would have gone out of our way to speak to the other. How does that count as rekindling an old flame?”
He paused, then doubled down:
“Besides, with my current status, it's completely impossible for me to ever get engaged to her again, alright? I'm just an exile from my family now, while she is still the Kingdom's First Princess and the Student Council President of Glory Cael Magic Academy. The divide between us is much wider than it was three years ago.”
“The only reason we can even stand next to each other now is because we've matured and completely moved past our old relationship. But I never expected you'd think of me as the kind of scumbag who crawls back to his ex because of it. Sigh...”
As he finished speaking, he intentionally let out a sigh, a look of deep hurt appearing on his face.
Allie's expression gradually began to shift.
The coldness in her eyes slowly dissolved, replaced by a flicker of skeptical hesitation.
She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing whether his words were trustworthy. After a moment, she finally spoke: “So... did I really misunderstand you, Young Master?”
“What else?”
Greg immediately turned the tables. Crossing his arms, he adopted a huffy posture that screamed 'now it's my turn to be angry' and gave her a cold shoulder:
“Now let me ask you: what exactly did I do wrong?”
Allie fell silent for a moment. Then, she lowered her head, her voice carrying a rare note of submission: “I am sorry, Young Master Greg. It was my misunderstanding.”
“If saying sorry actually worked, what would we need the knights for?”
Allie's voice turned slightly cold. “Oh? Then what exactly do you want, Young Master?”
Pushing his luck, Greg raised his chin slightly:
“If you want my forgiveness, it'll depend on the sincerity you show me.”
The moment the words left his mouth, a cold flash of light gleamed.
A sharp blade was already pressed against Greg's neck. The freezing touch of metal flush against his skin made him freeze instantly.
He hadn't even seen how Allie drew her sword—the speed was so fast his eyes couldn't keep up at all.
Allie wore a smile so sweet it was hair-raising, her voice as gentle as if she were cooing a child to sleep:
“Young Master Greg, tell me... is this kind of sincerity enough?~”
Cold sweat broke out all over Greg.
He could feel the razor-sharp edge resting right against his carotid artery. If Allie's hand trembled even a fraction, he would be sent straight to the Underworld, and she would probably follow him in death immediately after.
Greg's voice instantly became incredibly meek:
“...It's enough, more than enough. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed my luck. Thank you for being willing to give a piece of trash like me a second chance at life.”
Only then did Allie sheathe her sword with satisfaction. Her movement was clean and swift, the blade clicking crisply back into its scabbard.
Her tone carried a sense of relieved satisfaction: “Although your personality is terrible, you idiot Young Master, you aren't completely beyond saving.”
Greg: “...”
Your personality is clearly way worse than mine!
Naturally, he only dared to complain in his head; he wouldn't dare utter a single word of it aloud.
He didn't want to drag this topic out any further. Having finally managed to soothe Allie's temper, the last thing he wanted was to step on another landmine.
Allie walked ahead, heading toward the direction of the religious order's stronghold, asking without turning back:
“So, idiot Young Master, did you come looking for me this time for some specific reason again?”
Greg caught up quickly, a smile plastered on his face:
“Am I really the type of person who only visits when he needs something? Can't it just be that I missed you and came all this way to see you?”
The tips of Allie's ears flushed slightly. She didn't look back, but her voice maintained its cool tone:
“You're clearly terrified of my sword, yet you still dare to say things like that. Do you really think I don't know what kind of person you are, Young Master?”
“I really wasn't afraid just because you used to beat me black and blue with your sword hilt. This time, I actually came because—”
Greg cut himself off mid-sentence.
He realized Allie had stopped him in front of a building.
It was a massive estate sprawling across a vast plot of land, situated in the most expensive section of the district.
The main entrance of the estate consisted of two grand wrought-iron gates adorned with intricate carvings, with neatly trimmed ivy climbing up the stone pillars.
Peering through the gaps in the gate, one could see a meticulously manicured garden inside. The lawn was perfectly mowed, and a gravel pathway wound its way toward the main building.
The main building was a three-story villa constructed with light-colored stone walls. Its wide, bright windows reflected the warm glow of the setting sun.
Exquisite relief carvings decorated the eaves, and blooming roses climbed along the iron railings of the balconies.
The entire estate exuded a low-key, elegant air of nobility, making it instantly clear that its construction had cost a fortune.
“What are we doing here?”
Allie tilted her head in confusion. “What are we doing here? Because this is our stronghold, of course.”
“!!!”
Greg stared blankly at the luxurious estate before him, then thought back to the crude camp where he lived.
He fell silent.
A complex, indescribable emotion welled up inside him.
Seriously, how can the gap between two people be wider than the gap between a human and a dog?!
Greg's envy and jealousy didn't stop there.
Following behind Allie, he passed through the heavy wrought-iron gates and stepped onto the carefully laid gravel pathway, walking toward the main building.
Just as they reached the entrance, the double oak doors were gently pulled open from the inside. Several maids dressed in black-and-white uniforms stood behind the threshold, bowing elegantly to them.
Their attire was neat and crisp, their hair tied up immaculately. Wearing professional, gentle smiles, they greeted in soft, synchronized voices, “Welcome back, Lady Allie.”
Greg dithered for a second, nodding subconsciously as he followed Allie inside.
Once they stepped into the main building, the interior decor made his heart squeeze even tighter.
The spacious foyer was paved with marble floors, and a crystal chandelier hung in the center, reflecting a soft glow from the remnants of the setting sun even though it wasn't lit yet.
One of the maids stepped forward to lead the way, walking half a pace ahead of them.
Her steps were light and steady, maintaining a perfect distance. At every turn, she would slightly pivot, gesturing the direction with her hand while softly warning them of steps or uneven ground.
As Greg walked, he couldn't help but mutter to himself.
He had originally thought the so-called stronghold of the religious order would be some remote little church, complete with a few crude living quarters and a damp underground archive.
After all, for a newly established religious order, it felt like they should be the type of organization that barely scraped by on believer donations, living hand-to-mouth.
But the scene before him completely shattered his expectations. The maintenance cost of an estate like this alone must be an astronomical sum.
This forced Greg to seriously wonder: were they really running a religious order? Why on earth were they so rich?
Rate on N.U.
