“Doesn’t look particularly impressive.”
A male elf pinched his chin, lost in thought.
“But that girl with pink hair looks really pretty, and her figure is great too…”
“Cough, cough!”
A companion beside him gave him a sharp tug, signaling him to calm down.
Sure enough, Tereka’s stern gaze was already glaring at them.
“I think they’re all just for show, empty titles.”
Another elven girl said.
“If it came to an actual fight, they’re no match for us at all.”
Others nodded in agreement, but then they noticed Tereka’s expression hadn’t improved—in fact, she looked even more displeased.
Saying they’re not impressive wouldn’t do, but saying they’re stronger than us?
That couldn’t be right. When have we elves ever admitted to being weaker than anyone else?
They truly didn’t understand.
Only Tereka knew the elders’ subtle expectations of these Human Race prodigies.
They had to be impressive—if not, they wouldn’t be of any help.
But they couldn’t be too impressive either, or else they might become overbearing and take control themselves.
***
After walking for a while, Ayla finally heard from Leah what she had wanted to say earlier.
Simply put, the last time they had just gotten close and hadn’t even started getting intimate when they were interrupted by others.
Now so many days had passed, they needed to find a way to get back into the chapel again.
Ayla gently voiced her concerns, saying that after the last incident, while the others outwardly claimed to trust them, secretly they might be more cautious.
“I just don’t understand—two girls’ business, how can they immediately jump to such suspicions?”
Leah put her hands on her hips, fuming.
“Even if something was really going on, it’s none of their business. Vina likes to stir trouble, that I get, but why are Celes and Zero clinging onto us? I really don’t get it!”
Ayla wiped the fragrant sweat from her forehead, keeping quiet.
Yeah, why? Lala really wanted to know too.
But soon, the Saintess shifted the subject: “In a couple of days, you’ll come with me to the chapel. Just say it’s to discuss matters of the Harbor City Branch. I’ll formally invite you to become the Honorary Director of the Harbor City Branch, and you’ll have to undergo a ceremony—spend at least one night under the watchful eyes of the Goddess of Light. That way, it’ll be natural for you to stay a night at my place.”
Truly worthy of the Chosen of Light, the Human Kingdom’s second sun in the hearts of countless believers, weaving a web of religious words so smoothly.
Ayla thought about it.
Since Zero had already been convinced by her teasings, there was nothing to worry about, so she agreed.
Leah was so happy she nearly leaned in to kiss her.
“On the street! This is the street!”
“……”
Miss Leah was persuaded to step back.
Back at the inn, Celes recounted the discussion she had with Vina about the key information they had overheard: the elves’ true intention—the Holy Spring Seal.
“Teacher Rolls might know about it. If even he doesn’t, then we’re out of options,” Ayla nodded in agreement with Celes.
As always, it seemed unrelated to the girls personally, but the matter’s magnitude was unclear.
If it was too big, everyone would be affected, so it was better to find out more.
“You two go. I’m not going,” Vina raised her hand.
“I’m afraid once I enter the palace, those old men will grab me.”
Zero, still shaken by the previous incident, preferred to avoid the palace unless necessary to avoid frightening those inside.
The next day, it was Celes and Ayla, one of the best pairs, who once again arrived at the chapel.
Hearing the term “Holy Spring Seal” from the girls, Rolls exclaimed in surprise.
No one in the Royal Palace had mentioned it to him. If they hadn’t come, he really wouldn’t have known.
“Mr. Maken asked about it,” Celes said.
“We happened to overhear nearby. Probably not many people know.”
Tricking fools into spilling secrets is easy, but Maken wouldn’t broadcast this.
The matter itself wasn’t something to publicize anyway; after all, the kingdom genuinely wished to cooperate with the elves.
Getting more intelligence was just to avoid being used as pawns.
“As for the Holy Spring,” Rolls scratched his white beard, pondering for a long while, “I’ve never heard of this term.”
As the first generation after independence, though born after relations with the elves had severed, his elders had lived through that era and often told elven stories.
Yet never had they mentioned any Holy Spring.
He turned and pulled a book from the shelf, placing it on the table—the very “One Hundred and One Fables of Fairy Tale Village.”
“There’s no mention of it here either.”
Having recently helped the girls research the Evil God, he had flipped through this book multiple times, along with other records, so he was confident that the Holy Spring was nowhere to be found.
Celes thought aloud, “Could it be a term the elves only coined in recent years?”
Rolls shook his head.
“A hundred years is a long time to us, but elves live long lives. A hundred years may be significant, but not that long to them, especially considering their ancient history.”
The older the race, the more stringent their titles become.
A hundred years wouldn’t be enough time for elves to declare a spring ‘holy.’
More importantly, he’d never heard of any special spring among the elves.
At that moment, Ayla tilted her head cutely.
“Could it be some kind of internal code?”
Their eyes immediately turned to her.
“Internal code?”
Rolls didn’t understand.
“A kind of insider term,” Ayla raised a finger.
“Some things said among insiders, especially when talking to kids, can’t be too direct. It’s bad for their young minds.”
Celes pondered Ayla’s words but didn’t quite get it.
How could saying something directly harm children’s young minds so much that they had to change the wording?
Ayla picked up the fable book from the table, flipping through it from memory, landing on the story they had seen before.
The Falling Star of Iseris.
“We humans also have a phrase—‘joyful funerals’,” she pointed to the story.
“If it’s just about sealing something, making the uninformed keep their distance, whether you call it Holy Spring or Demon Spring, the effect is the same. Besides, if it really was ‘holy,’ why seal it away?”
Celes’ eyes widened in surprise.
Rolls, briefly shocked, soon composed himself and thought carefully.
It seemed to make sense.
They had analyzed this story carefully just a few days ago and remembered it well.
In the Falling Star of Iseris, there was only one spring mentioned—that which a 120-year-old elven girl poisoned and sacrificed to save the villagers.
“If that’s true, then we can first be sure of one thing,” Ayla snapped the fable book shut.
“The seal on the Holy Spring isn’t imprisoning the Evil God, because it was just roaming outside.”
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