The new cell was on the sunny side of Zone C.
Dry and warm, the massive floor-to-ceiling window was secured with sturdy rune-forged iron bars, letting the afternoon sunlight pour in without restraint, scattering warm patches of light across the floor.
When Alfea was brought into this cell, she was completely stunned.
She carefully stepped onto the sun-warmed floor, savoring a warmth she had never experienced before.
Then, she slowly walked to the window, reaching out with translucent fingers to curiously touch the dancing specks of golden dust.
“Do you like it?” Fan Zhuo asked softly.
Alfea whipped around suddenly, her eyes instantly reddening.
She said nothing, just flung herself into Fan Zhuo’s arms and hugged him tightly.
“I like Fan Zhuo the most…”
The girl’s body was unbelievably soft, carrying a trace of sunlight’s warmth and her own unique, sweet scent.
Fan Zhuo could feel a pure, intense life energy—filled with “joy” and “gratitude”—slowly pouring into his body through their close embrace, nourishing the ever-expanding reservoir of holy power within him.
“Fan Zhuo… thank you…”
“I’m… I’m so happy…”
Fan Zhuo stroked Alfea’s silky long hair and said gently, “It’s alright. I promised you, didn’t I?”
“Mm!” Alfea nodded vigorously.
“From now on… from now on, Alfea will be good, I’ll work hard to control my power, and won’t cause you any trouble…”
“You’re not trouble.” Fan Zhuo patted her back, feeling the trembling of the girl in his arms. “You just need a place where you can bask in the sun.”
This simple sentence made Alfea’s body suddenly stiffen.
Her body, made of slime, began to heat up slightly. A bit of the mucus trickled down Fan Zhuo’s uniform, as if expressing her uncontainable excitement and affection in this way.
Fan Zhuo’s priestly uniform was soon soaked through.
He felt a bit helpless, but even more so, his heart ached for her.
This little, silly slime was just far too easy to please.
After soothing the emotional Alfea, Fan Zhuo, still sticky with slime on his uniform, returned to his new suite.
When he opened the door, Baitu had already prepared hot water and clean clothes for him.
“Welcome back, Master Fan Zhuo. The bath is ready.”
She knelt at the entrance, like a wife waiting for her husband to return home, taking Fan Zhuo’s slime-soaked coat without the slightest sign of disgust—only a trace of barely perceptible tenderness on her face.
“Thank you, Baitu.”
Fan Zhuo entered the spacious bathroom, sank into the warm water, and let out a long, relaxed breath.
The heated water wrapped every inch of his skin, washing away his exhaustion and stickiness, even his pores felt as if they were opening up.
Leaning against the edge of the tub, he began to think about what lay ahead.
Promoted to bishop within a month… it was still a daunting challenge.
Although the “deep communion” with Night Sakura and Milina had caused his strength to soar, the threshold for bishop was still a long way off.
What’s more, those troublesome people from the Royal Academy of Magic were arriving soon, which would surely disrupt his “sticking close” grand plan.
Time was too tight.
After washing up and changing into a clean robe, Fan Zhuo stepped out of the bathroom.
In the living room, Baitu had already set dinner on the oak desk. In the gentle light, the sizzling, juicy steaks sent out a mouthwatering aroma.
From the direction of the bedroom came a faint, rustling sound.
“She’s awake?” Fan Zhuo asked.
“Yes, Master,” Baitu nodded. “Miss Milina regained consciousness about ten minutes ago, but she still seems… a bit disoriented.”
Fan Zhuo walked into the bedroom and saw Milina sitting on the bed, clutching the blanket, looking dazedly around the unfamiliar room.
When she saw Fan Zhuo enter, she shrank back like a startled fawn, staring at him warily.
“Who… who are you? Where is this?”
Her voice was a little hoarse and timid.
It seemed she’d slept for too long, and after such intense “treatment,” her memory was a bit patchy.
Even the “face wash” episode had slipped her mind.
Which, honestly, saved a lot of awkwardness.
“I’m the assistant warden of Asphodel Prison, Fan Zhuo.” Fan Zhuo showed his trademark holy smile.
“You were detained for illegal entry. For now… you’re just being kept here for your safety.”
“Prison?!” Milina’s face instantly went pale.
And—not just detained, but why in this man’s room…?
She tried to get out of bed, only to find her whole body was sore and weak, unable to summon any strength at all.
Especially her legs, which were painfully sore.
“Why… why am I…” She glanced down, noticing she was wearing unfamiliar pajamas. Some vague, embarrassing memories flickered through her mind, and her cheeks immediately flushed bright red.
“You… you actually—!”
“Your magic went out of control, and you fell into a coma,” Fan Zhuo explained calmly. “It was I who used holy light to purify the rampaging energy in your body and pulled you back from the brink of danger.”
Milina was stunned; she could feel that the chaotic energy in her body had indeed settled, and… seemed even more refined than before.
But she was still full of doubt.
Didn’t the elders say that holy light was the mortal enemy of succubi, like poison?
Why, when it came to this man, was “holy light” as simple as eating and drinking?
Actually, she wasn’t wrong—holy light was extremely suppressive to demons and succubi.
But of course, Fan Zhuo wasn’t about to tell her that to him, what other priests called “holy light” was as ordinary as food and water… ahem.
Milina cautiously looked up at the man before her.
Only now did she truly see Fan Zhuo’s face.
He wore a loose robe, his short black hair still damp, and that impossibly handsome face was smiling. A warm aura radiated from him, making her feel safe and comfortable.
Is… is this what a priest is like? It’s kind of different from the legends…
Weren’t priests supposed to be a bunch of lunatics who’d attack any demon on sight?
“Um… thank you… for saving me…” Milina murmured, her cheeks burning.
It was a kind of… masculine scent that made her blush and her heart race.
This scent was exactly the same as what she’d smelled in her dreams while unconscious, making her want to get closer, to… be filled by this aroma.
She unconsciously squeezed her legs together, her little face turning even redder.