When Marianne and Amelia returned to the spacious Main Hall, what they saw was an unexpectedly harmonious scene.
Allen de Laval and Archbishop Lucien stood facing each other, chatting animatedly, the atmosphere so congenial it was almost unbelievable.
Archbishop Lucien’s silver hair was meticulously groomed, and the golden Wheat Ear embroidered on his deep purple bishop’s robe shimmered softly under the gentle light of the dome, lending a rare warmth to his normally solemn presence.
Allen stood straight, wearing an impeccable, appropriate smile, his gaze focused as if listening to the teachings of a wise elder.
“Lord Allen,” the Archbishop’s voice carried undisguised admiration, “Your insights on ‘Universal Grace’ and ‘Special Grace’ are rare even within the Church. It seems this old man should truly yield the stage to you clever young ones.”
Allen immediately bowed slightly, his demeanor humble and sincere without any hint of flattery. “Your Excellency is too kind. The Church’s current state owes everything to your decades of unwavering, selfless dedication. Your wisdom is as deep as the ocean; what I know is but a drop—I still have much to learn from you.”
Archbishop Lucien chuckled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes relaxing in evident pleasure. “Lord Allen, you’re far too modest. Hearing this, even an old man like me can’t help but feel delighted.”
“Not at all, every word comes from the heart.”
“Huh?!!!”
Amelia, who had just walked in, nearly popped her eyes out and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ at the sight.
Allen de Laval?! That infamous, colossal troublemaker! Yet he managed to earn such gentle recognition and praise from the teacher she revered like a god?!
Why?!
The teacher had never been this warm toward her, his legitimate student! A surge of absurd jealousy and disbelief struck Amelia’s innocent heart hard.
Could it be that the teacher… had lost his mind?
Impossible! With the teacher’s wisdom, how could he fail to see Allen’s true nature?
Recalling Marianne’s earlier near-“bewitched” state, a terrifying thought exploded in Amelia’s pure mind:
Could Allen de Laval be possessed by the “Evil Beings” recorded in the Holy Scripture?
Had he, like the Slaver Tyrant, obtained dark powers that corrupt hearts? Is that how he fooled the teacher and bewitched Marianne?!
Once the thought took root, it spread wildly inside Amelia’s heart.
Her gaze toward Allen instantly filled with the vigilance and resolve of a saint facing a tyrant.
She intended to become the contemporary Saint Elliott! She had to save both the teacher and her dear friend!
At that moment, Archbishop Lucien noticed Marianne’s return and Amelia’s unusual expression.
Smiling slightly, he timely brought the conversation to a close: “It seems we got too carried away, keeping the ladies waiting. Lord Allen, let’s end here for today.”
Already over?
Allen muttered inwardly. He had truly enjoyed chatting with this knowledgeable Archbishop.
He bowed respectfully. “Your Excellency, today’s discussion has been profoundly enlightening. I will treasure what I’ve learned. Should the opportunity arise, I will come again to seek your guidance.”
“Opportunities will come,” Archbishop Lucien smiled faintly, a subtle look of inquiry flashing in his gray-blue eyes. “Lord Allen, I’m not certain yet if the Star Choir has truly set its sights on you. Perhaps we need to converse more, purify our minds in the Divine Land, so that any lurking evil can be truly driven away.”
I see. Still in the probation period.
Fine, the more visits, the better.
Allen knew perfectly well that this was a staged performance—both sides had played their parts, but all necessary messages had been delivered.
His act conveyed sincerity: I know you suspect me, but I am willing to come forward honestly, revealing myself as pure-hearted. This should prove my goodwill—you can trust me.
The Archbishop’s reply was cautious: I acknowledge your sincerity, but I need more time to observe and confirm you are harmless.
Such exchanges between antagonists are so painstaking yet tacit.
But that was fine.
Allen didn’t expect the old fox Archbishop Lucien to trust him easily. It was only natural to remain wary.
If the Archbishop had cheerfully declared, “The Organization has decided—you shall be the ‘Messenger of God,’” that would be a problem.
Allen decided to probe once more, testing the Archbishop’s attitude toward Marianne.
“Of course, I’d be glad to exchange more ideas with you,” Allen smiled, then suddenly shifted tone. “Your Excellency, I have a question I’d like to ask.”
“Please, ask freely.”
“Suppose I have a friend who, due to her own weakness, accidentally fell into an abyss. But at that moment, she awakened, and with her own strength and help from others, she managed to climb out. Inevitably, she’s still tainted by the scent of the abyss.”
“Your Excellency, can this friend of mine still bask in the Lord’s sunlight?”
The Archbishop squinted at Allen, fell silent for a moment, then replied slowly: “If she sincerely repents, the Holy Wind will sweep away the scent of the abyss. Anyone willing can return to His light.”
“I believe my friend would be very happy to hear that. She will surely become one of the Lord’s most devoted followers.” Allen turned to Marianne, his smile finally carrying genuine relief. “Marianne, thank you for waiting.”
Seeing Allen safe and sound, Marianne’s heart finally settled.
Of course, she understood Allen’s test and the Archbishop’s answer.
Whether her identity was exposed mattered little; what mattered was the Church’s attitude toward her.
And now, Archbishop Lucien had given his approval—she could walk in the light.
She stepped forward, flawlessly perfect in posture, bowing deeply to Archbishop Lucien, her delicate hand skillfully tracing the Wheat Ear Sigil on her chest with smooth, devout motions, her voice gentle and soft:
“Thank you, Your Excellency. Since my young master’s rebirth, he has often awakened from nightmares. I believe with your special Blessing and guidance, he will be able to sleep peacefully.”
At this moment, her demeanor was completely different from the sickly, fragile act she had displayed before Allen; she was the epitome of the perfect, flawless maid.
Archbishop Lucien responded warmly, “Miss Maid, you flatter me. The sun shines on both good and evil; rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous alike. The Lord watches all lives equally. Even without my Blessing, Lord Allen could, through his own devotion and sincere repentance, escape those terrible nightmares. I believe this truth applies to you as well.”
“I will remember your teachings,” Marianne replied respectfully.
Amelia watched Marianne behave with such grace, poise, and dignity before the solemn Archbishop—expressing even gratitude to the “devil” she hated most—and almost had little stars sparkling in her eyes.
So cool! This is exactly the brave and loyal friend she dreamed of!
Reluctantly, she grabbed Marianne’s hand, her deep blue eyes blinking. “Marianne, will you come see me again?”
She said this while casting a wary glance at Allen, like a little beast guarding its food.
Allen could only helplessly shrug.
“Of course. We’re friends.”
Marianne smiled and subtly withdrew her hand, maintaining just the right distance in front of the Archbishop.
“Wuwuwu… Marianne…” Amelia was nearly in tears from emotion.
“It’s time to go home, Lord Allen.” Marianne turned to Allen, her tone restored to respectful master-servant form.
Allen looked at her now perfectly poised, impeccable lady-like demeanor and roared inwardly: Yes! This is it! This is the perfect head maid I dream of! Why does she usually turn into that deadly version?!
“Very well, Your Excellency, farewell.” Allen bowed again.
“Farewell, Lord Allen.” Archbishop Lucien waved, his kindly expression full of anticipation for their next conversation.
Yet behind that kind smile lay an impenetrable, lingering gloom.
—————
Stepping onto the streets of Lucien City, Allen stretched widely, as if shedding a weight of a thousand pounds.
“Phew, acting is really exhausting, especially playing opposite a veteran. You’ve got to stay mentally sharp. Luckily, no takes wasted. Not bad, not bad—I might just snag a Best Newcomer Award for this performance.”
Marianne immediately switched back to her familiar sickly mode, gazing at Allen with affection, cheeks slightly flushed. “Young master, thank you for securing my chance at redemption. To express my deep gratitude…”
She pointed shyly toward a fairly clean-looking inn by the street, her voice tinged with shyness and expectation: “Shall we… rest there for a while? You look really tired.”
Allen nearly choked, rolling his eyes. “Where’s your morality?! Where’s the bottom line?! Where’s the Minor Protection Law?! This is utterly problematic from every angle! You, carnivorous idiot maid, come look carefully at what ‘No Minors Allowed’ means!”
“There’s none?” Marianne looked blankly at the inn’s entrance, seeing no sign.
“It’s engraved on my heart!” Allen clutched his chest, distraught. “One day, every inn’s door in this world will carry that sign! Raising awareness to protect minors is a long, arduous road!”
Though the original 《Starlit Romance》 was an all-ages game, reality was different! Child marriage was still a terrible plague in this era, and minors suffered the most from gender discrimination!
Allen came from a modern society fiercely cracking down on such practices; his moral standards were saintly by comparison.
His revolution naturally included eradicating these feudal relics—liberating children poisoned by the shadows of a cruel old world from twisted contracts and tragic fates.
Children are the world’s future light. If even they can’t be protected, how can the world have a future?
Marianne, that pure good child, was poisoned by this wicked old society! She needed to cherish herself more, stupid!
“Speaking of which, Marianne, why did you suddenly say something so risky? Are you hiding something from me?” Allen rubbed his brow, looking at her with suspicion.
Although his little maid often had strange thoughts, most of the time she was sensible. She must have her reasons for this topic.
“Looks like you can’t hide it from me. Actually…”
Marianne explained how she’d tricked Amelia into becoming “friends” and about the Church’s special forces surveillance.
“See, since I’ve made Amelia misunderstand, to make the act more convincing and to make it easier to use her for gathering intel in the future, maybe… I and young master could fake a real relationship… ah!” Before finishing, she got a gentle chop from Allen.
Allen withdrew his hand but wore a proud, fatherly smile. “I see… Marianne… you’ve made a friend.”
“Friend… is more like one-sided use…” Marianne murmured apologetically.
“Thinking of the Organization’s interests is a good starting point.” Allen’s tone softened, eyes gazing at the distant blue sky, tinged with subtle melancholy. “But sometimes, sincerity is the best way.”
“That Amelia girl looks like a pure and lovely child. Marianne, make a good friend. You’re only fourteen—don’t always be so calculating like adults. That’s not cute.”
In countless past reincarnations, he had always stood alone watching Livia surrounded by her friends, by the main characters of the game.
He was always the outsider, with no one to confide in, forced to silently endure all the pain.
Now, though he had companions, he would never deny that lonely self of his past.
“Hmm.” Marianne stared at Allen with a complicated look. “But you’ve schemed against many others yourself. And you know I’m still a minor, yet… you poured your most precious essence into me… and even pressured me into doing things I can’t tell other adults about…”
“Stop, stop!” Allen hurriedly raised his hand. “We just came out of the Cathedral, our minds purified. Can we not dive into such easily misunderstood topics so quickly?”
Though the mood between them was lighthearted, Allen’s heart was heavy with a gnawing unease.
The term Dissociative Disorders resurfaced like a delayed ghost in his mind, bringing a deeper, colder anxiety.
If Archbishop Lucien had used a word with similar meaning in this world’s language, Allen might not have been so alert.
But the Archbishop had precisely pronounced the English term, pure and original—this modern psychological term!
What did that mean?
In previous loops, Allen always thought 《Starlit Romance》 was purely a fictional otherworld, unrelated to Earth’s language or writing.
But the appearance of “Dissociative Disorders” in English was a key unlocking a dreadful possibility:
This so-called game world must have some profound connection with Earth’s civilization!
Otherwise, how could they know the correct pronunciation and exact meaning of this English term?
He could no longer comfort himself with “coincidence” or “fictional setting.”
Clearly, he had not crossed into a world completely unrelated to his original one.
The humans on this planet were very likely descendants of Earthlings far in the future, or after some calamity!
How much time had passed since the 21st century he knew? What fractures and transformations had human civilization undergone?
The heavy reality replaced his forced lightness; Allen’s mood instantly grew grave.
Sensing the change, Marianne put away her teasing, quietly and gently took his hand, silently offering support.
“Young master, we have already achieved great success today. Cheer up a little.” She said softly.
“Mm.” Allen responded, then suddenly shook off her hand. “Also, Marianne, no mooching off me! If you want a handshake, go find your female friends!”
Watching their playful banter that hardly resembled the aftermath of a major crisis, Old Butler Jean-Leclerc, who had been standing by the carriage, finally breathed a long sigh of relief, a satisfied smile on his face.
“Young master, miss, shall we go home?”