“Apologize!” the Priestess of Love shouted. In a flash of light, the spear in her hand had become a longsword, and she introduced herself as a whirlwind of blade.
“Like I said, you’re overreacting!” The Harem Priest could do nothing but hop back, tracing a circular path around the duelling field. “It’s not like your sword’s really your boyfriend, y’know!”
The Priestess raged, and the longsword became an ordinary sword—and she threw it.
The Priest deflected it, but it came right back around and started chopping at him on its own—for the first time in his life, he was fighting a sword without its wielder! His attention occupied, the Priestess charged at him with a dagger, and he just barely stepped out of the way. The Priestess did not relent, and soon, each of his swords had an opponent.
Either the Priestess wasn’t joking and he’d actually insulted her and her double-edged boyfriend, or she was using some sort of insane sword control Skill, but then decided that it was the spirit of her deceased boyfriend actually inhabiting the sword. Every possibility was nuts.
A bell sounded. The sky was already violet dusk.
“The duel concludes with no victor!” a crier announced.
The Priestess tsked, sheathing her weapon. “Viktor Redd! By Priestess’s privilege, and for disparaging my beloved’s honor, I challenge you to a duel! Tomorrow! Same time!”
Viktor couldn’t decline, else the standing of the Harem faith would plummet even further for having no honor. They may have been harem bastards, the lot of them, but they weren’t dishonorable warriors.
“I … accept,” he said with a sigh. The audience cheered, glad that their bets were still on the table. As soon as the Priestess left, the audience filed out all the same, though some of them lingered just a few seconds later to take in the appearance of the Last Priest of the Harem God.
He didn’t like the attention. He picked up the pace, going into an alley. As soon as he was around the corner, he folded up his gaudy robe and put on a different-colored shirt and a blonde wig. He kept one sword hanging by his waist, and the other slung from his back.
“Excuse me.”
He turned around, startled that someone had seen him. It was some guy with a kid. What, do they want an autograph?
“What do you want?” he asked.
The guy let go of the kid’s hand, and the kid approached him with slow but sure steps. The whole scenario was weird, and he’d jumped back on reflex, his hands ready to go for his swords.
“Last Priest of the Harem God,” the kid said, “the Champion has arrived.”
Hearing a kid speak like that was surreal. Who raised her? Did that guy do it? No, unless he had her when he was 12, their age gap was too close. Oi, what are you teaching your kid cousin? Yeah, they were definitely cousins.
Wait … ‘The Champion has arrived’—where did he hear that?
—That’s Minimine, you idiot! The last Goddess of Reincarnation!
Oh gods, it’s the Harem God, again. Wait, what did you say?
—That child is a goddess! And that’s the guy you’re supposed to train!
He squinted, whispering, {Who is that?} The appraisal spell, though inferior to the Skill, was still enough to get the Name and Occupation for just 1 MP. One’s Name could be faked, but the Occupation could not, so even if he raised an eyebrow at “Name: Minimine”—lots of people named their kids after goddesses and such, so that wasn’t special—he practically smashed his body into the ground after reading “Occupation: Vice-Goddess of Reincarnation.”
“I’m so sorry for my rudeness! It’s been a long day and I’m tired and I’m sure you wanna get this over with!”
***
The Priest was understanding about things, and truth be told, even Kalender felt too tired to do anything serious today. They agreed to meet again tomorrow morning and smooth things out well before the Priest’s next bout with the Priestess of Love.
Kalender and Minimine were on their way to the south gate, hoping to rejoin the others, when Minimine’s tummy grumbled.
“So this is the the demand of the flesh…”
Kalender chuckled. “Weird way to say you’re hungry. Come on, there’s a stall over there with boiled sweet potatoes.”
The nice stallkeeper had peeled one for her, serving it in a paper wrapper. Kalender perked an eyebrow over that. “Isn’t paper expensive?” he asked the stallkeeper.
“Hm? Oh, no, no, that’s jungle paper. You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Nah, we’re not. What’s jungle paper?”
“The Monster Wall’s just over there, right? Jungle paper’s actually made from the leaves of some of the plants there. It’s too rough for fine writing, but it’s sturdy enough for a lot of different things.”
“Wait, the Monster Wall? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not at all! The stronger monsters are actually deeper in, so gatherers get by just skirting the edge.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Kalender thanked the stallkeeper and tugged Minimine along. She was mildly excited over the deceptive complexity of the sweet potato. It didn’t taste like anything in particular at first, but as she chewed, a mild sweetness surfaced as if a delayed reward for her patience. I see. Hugs and Sweet Potatoes.
***
The other group had found a decent place to stay in, a resthouse called Freedom’s Peak. It was a lot cleaner than Windchimes, Jyn noted, though it was just slightly more expensive: 16 Notes a night. There was breakfast and dinner included, but they had to come downstairs to the eating area for that. They didn’t have a laundry service, sadly, but there were wash basins in each room, and the owner said it was fine to just let things hang-dry from the windows.
It was a tragedy to Jyn’s financial senses, but there weren’t a lot of travelers to this area, and indeed, the eating area was just about at half capacity.
She had already chosen a room from the offerings, one large enough for the whole group, but it still needed to be prepared, as the previous tenants had just left. She just needed to fetch Kalender and Minimine, now.
“Lilia, could I bother you with a favor? Just keep Page inside this establishment. You can be forceful if needed. I will fetch the other two and return soon.”
“T-that’s okay,” Lilia replied.
Jyn left. Page was there, smiling at Lilia like some sort of devil waiting for her to make a soul-binding deal.
“Let’s go out!—” “No.”
Oh no, was she too forceful? Jyn said it was alright, though…
“Let’s eat!—” “No.”
Page pouted. Lilia realized she was coming off as stiff and no-fun. “It’s rude if we start eating before everyone else,” she explained. This seemed to placate the demon, but she couldn’t ever be sure.
The door past the counter opened, and in came the skimpiest outfit she’d ever seen. The owner greeted her with a “Good evening, Priestess,” and she greeted back. No one who lived around here batted an eye, so it was obvious to the Priestess that Lilia, whose mouth was agape, and Page, whose eyes were sparkling, were new to the area.
More importantly, her All Who Struggle Blessing was tipping her off.
—Why won’t he just kiss me!
It was a classic frustration, and one she was well-versed in handling. If she had sleeves, she’d roll them up. She’d arrived too early to start with the other client, so this one would help pass the time. It was time to do her job as Priestess.
She smiled as she approached the pair. “New around here?”
Lilia was unnerved from the unprompted attention. Page, meanwhile, had little reserve.
“We are! Say, what sort of Priestess are you?”
“I am Helma Kel, Priestess of Love of Harmony.” She smiled. “You could say I’m something of a matchmaker.”
“Ohh! A matchmaker! Can you do something like, telling me the fate of my love life?”
Helma chuckled. “Of course! How about you, there? Sorry if it seemed that I was ignoring you.”
“Oh, no, no! Please. It’s fine. I’ll just watch.” It’s a good way to keep Page occupied, too. Keep it up.
They picked out an empty table and sat down.
“Please show your palms,” Helma said.
Page happily complied. Helma started looking through the trace of the folds of her hands, murmuring things like “I see” and “interesting”—but that was all meaningless chaff to distract her clients from her true methods.
Once she was finished going through Page’s hands, she clasped her hands in prayer, murmuring even more meaningless things. The thing was, her goddess would actually hear these things, so as a service, she made sure her murmurs were entertaining.
—Today, I met an interesting man, then he insulted my boyfriend. I mean, wow, really? He had one shot and he blew it in 5 seconds…
As soon as she was done, she told Page, “You should be more assertive.”
“Wha—”
“I mean, it’s just a kiss, right? I know he said no, but I know the type. They’re pretty shy about it.”
“Wait—”
“No, yes, I know you asked for the fate of your love life.” She raised a finger. “However, the Goddess of Love does not smile on those who do not work for it.”
“But!—”
“Hm?”
“But we’re just friends!”
“Oh, that case. Well then, you should listen to your heart, you know? It’s not good bottling it up—”
“But!—”
“Hm?”
“I just really like him, but that’s it!”
“Ah, let’s narrow this down. Well then, do you feel happy around him?”
“Yes!”
“Giddy?”
“Yes!”
“Sad?”
“Y-what?”
“No? Hmm—have you ever fought with him?”
“No?”
“I see. So you just really like being around him?”
“Yes!”
“You want to do that forever?”
“F-forever—” Sounds nice. “Yeah!”
“Very good. Have you ever opened up to each other?”
“Y—” The answer got stuck in her throat. Have they ever actually opened up to each other? Well, there was that one time in that cafe. Yeah. “… once?”
Helma frowned. “That’s not enough.”
Not enough? Really? “Then … what is?” For the first time since Lilia saw her, Page frowned.
“Listen well. You must make it so that he feels as if he was there with you, watching every step of the way of your life. Speak about your childhood, your mothers, your father—and don’t forget to make him do the same for you. Once that is done…”
Page inched forwards, ready to partake of the holy bread. Helma grinned.
“Marry him.”
“Huh?!” Page recoiled, even jerking her seat back. “But we’re just friends!”
“Oh, you youngin’, if a man’s too good to pass up, don’t you dare let him go.” She patted the hilt of her sword, confirming that it was still there. “Never let him go.”
“But, marriage is … can’t we just stay friends forever?”
“Oh, believe me, I know those types. He’s real caring, isn’t he? He probably won’t marry more than three women. Probably even thinks just one is enough. That’s just how dedicated such a man is.” She leaned forwards. “Next thing you know, you’ll run out of slots really fast, you know?”
“B-but I can just see him around—”
“He won’t have time for you. Think about it: a few wives and a lot more children. What do you think he’ll do, ignore his kids in favor of you? No, he wouldn’t do that, would he?”
Page looked down at the floor. Kal’s cute, so … Kal’s kids would also turn out cute, but … she wouldn’t be there to see them. Maybe his wives would even hate her for seeing him “too often” or something like that. What was she gonna be, some sort of … not mistress? In this society? ‘But we’re just friends!’—no one would buy that story.
How they were right now didn’t have to change. She was happy being friends with him. Sure, the adventure had to end someday, but couldn’t she just live in the same city as him? Be neighbors, even? Then they’d go do the groceries together!—but what if one of his wives got mad? Then what?
How about her happiness?
Helma said Kal was some high-quality goods. She didn’t want to think of him that way, but other women wouldn’t even be shy about it. She’s right. The slots would go fast.
But really? Marriage? That would mean letting him t-touch her… Her cheeks burned. Then they’d have kids. H-how many kids?!
Ah, but they’d be cute. More cute things didn’t sound so bad.
… Marriage, though!
Ah! An adventuring couple sounded awesome, though! She could even write a novel about it—she’d totally read that!
… But! Marriage! Though!
Hmm. Really, it all came down to the fact that she was taking a pretty high risk just hoping Kal’s future wives would like her … but, if she just bit the bullet and m-married him, that risk goes away. He wouldn’t let his wives fight each other, right? All it took on her part was some guts and w-womanly confidence! Yeah! I-it’s just a bit of intimacy, what’s wrong with that! It’s just like next-tier hugs!
“Alright,” she finally said, “I just have to marry him, right?”
“I like that look in your eyes.” Fire. “But no, you have to bond first, okay, dear? No bond, no go, okay?”
“Alright!” Fist pump! “We’re gonna bond like glue!”
Helma cheered and clapped. Hyping up her clients was also part of the job. “You’ll be inseparable!”