Thanks to Losern’s efforts, Loki’s activity range was no longer confined to his room but expanded throughout the entire castle, and he was even granted permission to freely use some indoor facilities.
After waking up, he quickly washed up and changed into a set of light clothes.
For breakfast, he made do with the long loaf of bread Cellulo had left on his bedside table, accompanied by hot tea.
Compared to being used as a tool for sexual harassment by the Saintess, it was better to just shove this stuff into his stomach.
Of course, the taste was nothing more than dry, stale bread—chewing it was like gnawing on someone else’s chewed sugarcane. There was no miraculous improvement just because a beautiful girl had held and kneaded it. Without some tea or other liquid, it was impossible to swallow.
Afterward, he left the room and swaggered around the castle, heading toward the training hall.
No matter how much he had declined now, Loki had once been a master for a time, and his spirit had not completely faded.
Relying on women was never an excuse for not working hard.
After all, in life-or-death battles, blindly counting on others was unreasonable from the start.
Loki was only completely rejected by the Sea of Souls, not turned into a cripple. As long as he wanted, he could at least reclaim some of his former glory.
Moreover, the reason he had accumulated enough strength back then was by “looting.”
Stats were just the basics; the disgusting mechanics were the real key. Otherwise, why would the Lords compete to choke out the Soulless in the cradle?
The Knights’ training hall was located on the east side of the castle.
The largest number of third- and second-class knights usually trained in the outdoor fields. Because their strength was insufficient, they focused more on teamwork and squad cooperation. Indoors, there was rarely enough space to accommodate them.
So those who could use the training hall were almost always the “elite” within the Knights, and the training focused on intense one-on-one combat.
When Loki arrived, several people were already sweating it out.
Knights without their armor looked no different from relatively sturdy ordinary people, far less intimidating than when clad in plate.
Yet even so, they were not comparable to average soldiers.
They could withstand blades and bullets with their bodies, punch through iron plates, and their endurance was beyond question—completing triathlons with ease.
Unfortunately, the number of superhumans in this world was just too great. Even the one-in-a-thousand elites were mere footnotes among the top-tier figures.
Overall, the atmosphere in the training hall was no different from a gym back in his previous life. Everyone had their own business and wouldn’t waste time deliberately making things difficult for a new face.
However, for veterans, Loki’s face was far from unfamiliar.
The wanted posters that had fluttered like snowflakes all over the country the night before were already worthless scraps by the next day, too coarse even for wiping one’s backside. Only certain clans and organizations still maintained them, but they were merely for show.
Countless people’s dreams of glory and achievement had collapsed along with them.
Therefore, even if someone present recognized Loki, they would at most snort in displeasure and pretend not to see the ill-omened man.
Loki was naturally glad to go unnoticed.
Just a few days ago, he had been happily living a solitary life, but after Cellulo’s arrival, it felt as if years had passed in an instant.
This precious personal time, like a mountain spring dripping through cracks in the stone, was pure nectar to Loki.
Yet Murphy’s Law always liked to strike without warning.
“Come at me~ Loki.”
Accompanied by a grating, clawing tone that raised goosebumps, the petite silver-haired, purple-eyed girl blew a flying kiss at Loki.
She just wouldn’t leave him alone.
Before leaving, he had clearly confirmed this girl slept like a log, but since earlier she had been following right behind him without him noticing at all—until she tugged hard on the corner of his clothes.
Loki looked down at his hand in confusion, doubting his own life choices.
“What’s wrong? Still standing there daydreaming? Is it because you can’t bear to lay a hand on me?”
Cellulo tied her long hair into a ponytail.
Her tight top and shorts perfectly outlined the S-shaped curves of her body. Her pale bare feet touched the ground lightly, toes curling slightly as if inviting him to scoop her up.
But no one could accept a piece of pristine white porcelain stained with any blemish—and Loki was no exception.
No white stockings? No, at least she should be wearing shoes, right?
Because some things, once started, tend to spiral downhill, Loki held his breath and focused his attention on Cellulo’s face.
…Cute.
Her pale, flushed face reflected only his image in her two purple gems, her delicate small nose firm and sharp, her full light-pink lips slightly parted to show the edges of her white teeth, and a pair of elf ears that bent downward a bit.
All of it was perfectly framed by a gentle smile.
Though traces of the past lingered in her eyes, she was definitely no longer that pitiful little girl.
…Damn it.
It was all because of what Christine had said last night, causing him to become especially sensitive about something that should have stirred no emotion.
The flame of desire was lit, but not enough to burn away all reason. His experiences and insight from childhood had already forged his restraint and rationality into the strongest shield.
Loki took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and assumed a fighting stance.
…So how did such a petite body come to possess those enormous treasures?
“I’m just afraid you might accidentally snap me in two.”
“Hehe, how could that be? I won’t use magic or artifacts to make things hard for you. After all, my main goal is to help you rehabilitate—and I want to see just how strong the mountain-like man in my heart really is.”
Cellulo wriggled her limbs.
—But that was far from the truth.
More than wanting to restore Loki’s strength, she wished for him to become utterly dependent on her.
Given the world’s mysterious medical standards, it was unlikely he would one day be permanently injured and raised by her.
Only if Loki became weaker and weaker, did he fit Cellulo’s ideal scenario.
Others would despise and distance themselves from him, leaving her to enjoy him all to herself.
Cellulo believed her reason for being born into this world was to love Loki, support him, and care for him—
Since leaving that demon’s den, this conviction had never wavered.
“…I can’t accept that compliment. No matter how strong I was, back then I still had to be a fierce, ruthless evil lackey.”
Loki smiled bitterly.
He had a clear awareness of this. If Christine hadn’t taken the initiative to find him back then, he might have ended his days drifting aimlessly.
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