The next day, Celia opened her eyes, and the blinding Saint Celery that threatened to turn her into a giant lightbulb had finally gone out.
Celia yanked off the black silk ribbon that had been covering her eyes, then blinked a few times as her blurry vision quickly came into focus.
Did her eyesight get a little better?
Does Magic Wolf Meat really have this effect?
A C-Rank Monster really does live up to its name.
Celia pushed open the door. The cool morning air rushed in.
In the yard, Elent was cleaning up the traces of last night’s battle with a broom.
“Priestess, are your eyes better?”
“The Seal is lifted.”
Celia answered with perfect seriousness.
“Evil has been suppressed. Now is the time of Light.”
“As expected of Priestess!”
Elent waved his broom excitedly.
“So, are we going for Cheese Custard Tarts now?”
“Let’s go.”
Celia strode toward the gate.
“Today, I want to eat five.”
Leaving the church, the village streets were already bustling.
Celia walked in front, Elent followed half a step behind.
Normally, when the villagers saw Celia, they would always greet her. Today was no exception, but Celia felt like there was something a bit off about the atmosphere.
Passing by the blacksmith’s shop, Uncle Barton, who was forging at the moment, paused his work.
He gave a meaningful smile, swept his gaze over Celia and Elent a couple of times, then gave Elent a big thumbs-up.
“Young folks really are energetic, huh?”
Uncle Barton’s voice boomed.
“There was quite a racket last night. Half the village heard it. All that banging and shouting, and something about a Seal too.”
Elent scratched his head, a sheepish smile appearing on his face.
“It was pretty intense. Mostly because the opponent was too tough, but Priestess really pulled through at the end.”
“I get it, I get it.”
Uncle Barton chuckled, picking up his hammer again.
Celia frowned, feeling like something was off with this conversation, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
To be fair, last night really was intense—tearing down walls and beams of Light everywhere.
The two continued on.
They had just passed the general store when the proprietress came out to meet them.
“Oh my, Celia, up so early?”
Without asking for any explanation, the proprietress grabbed a big bunch of fresh chives from her basket, plus a bag of eggs, and shoved them into Elent’s arms.
“What’s this?” Elent stared at his full arms, bewildered.
“Take it!” The proprietress glared at him, then turned to Celia, her tone becoming serious and earnest.
“It’s good for young people to be energetic, but you have to know moderation, too. Look, those dark circles under your eyes haven’t faded. Go home and cook these up to nourish this silly boy.”
“For free?” Celia asked.
“On the house!”
“Thank you, then.”
Celia nodded, motioning for Elent to hold onto them.
She didn’t really know why there was a need for “nourishment,” but free food shouldn’t go to waste. After all, chive-fried eggs was a decent dish.
All the way to the village square, the feeling of being watched grew stronger.
Nearly every passing villager would stop and look at her.
Celia didn’t quite get it, but didn’t pay it much mind and kept walking.
Grandpa Bagla’s bakery was right next to the square.
At this moment, a crowd had gathered at the shop’s entrance, pointing and chattering at a Poster hung on the wall.
“Isn’t that the Priestess?”
“It definitely is! No doubt!”
“I never thought the Priestess, who always looks so quiet, would play around like this in private.”
“That’s called contrast, get it? That’s what city folks are into these days.”
The chattering of the crowd filled Celia’s ears. A sense of foreboding welled up in her heart as she walked up to the Poster.
It was a charcoal-drawn Poster.
The image featured two black silhouettes.
The first, though you couldn’t see her facial features, had a petite frame and was drawn in detailed, layered Gothic Skirt.
The second silhouette wore a blue and white maid outfit, topped with a pair of fluffy cat ears, a bell-collared choker around the neck, and the eye area covered by a black silk ribbon.
At the top of the Poster, a bold line read:
<Gospel of Taboo – Yuna Miss Autumn Special Inspiration>
Below was a line of small print:
“Styles even the clergy can’t refuse! Debuting today, first in the city!”
Celia stood before the Poster, her body trembling slightly.
The villagers’ chatter, Uncle Barton’s thumbs-up, the proprietress’s eggs…
Celia seemed to finally understand why everyone was looking at her that way.
Her reputation had taken a hit!
Damn you, Yuna!
You won’t get away with this in the future!
“Priestess, isn’t that you?” Elent edged closer, holding the chives and eggs, staring at the Poster for a while before sighing in admiration.
“It really does look just like you, especially that bell.”
“Shut up.”
Celia squeezed the words out from between her teeth.
If she had the Holy Codex in her hands right now, she would absolutely cast a large-area Memory Erasure Spell right here in the square.
Just as Celia was deciding whether to smash the shop or bury herself first, a rich aroma wafted out from inside.
Freshly baked, flaky crust; the mellow scent of fermented butter and the sweetness of milk.
Grandpa Bagla came out holding a tray.
On the tray were two rows of freshly baked Cheese Custard Tarts.
The golden crusts were perfectly baked, the half-set cheese in the middle quivered with the old man’s steps.
Steam rose and the aroma filled the air.
The villagers, who had been ogling the Poster, all swallowed hungrily.
Celia’s eyes left the Poster, landing on the tray.
Her clenched fists relaxed.
At this moment, public humiliation, rumors, Cat-Eared Maid—none of it mattered.
In the face of absolute deliciousness, all else is an illusion.
If I’m not embarrassed, it’s others who should be embarrassed.
Expressionless, Celia said to Grandpa Bagla:
“Five. Now.”
Grandpa Bagla smiled and set the tray before her.
“Already prepared. Yuna gave special instructions—there’s plenty.”
Celia reached out, grabbed a still-hot Cheese Custard Tart, opened her mouth, and took a bite.
The crisp tart shell shattered between her teeth, followed by the piping-hot, flowing cheese filling bursting into her mouth.
The rich, milky aroma instantly overwhelmed her taste buds. Even the sweetness was perfect, without a hint of being cloying.
Celia squinted, her cheeks bulged, and a dab of white cheese stuck to the corner of her mouth.
Delicious.
For this taste, who cares about reputation? Let it be ruined.
“Um, Celia.”
Yuna poked her head out from behind the counter, holding several Design Drafts, a fox-like grin on her face.
“Since you’re enjoying your food so much, how about we talk about the Finale Runway Show for next week’s Fashion Festival?”
Celia swallowed her food and reached for a second Cheese Custard Tart.
“I refuse.”
“Appearance fee: ten Gold Coins.”
Celia’s hand stopped mid-air, tart still in hand.
“And a Free Annual Cheese Tart Coupon.”
Celia’s gaze flickered, and she replied in a grave tone, as if sacrificing herself for a noble cause:
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not doing this for the food.”
Celia pointed a sugar-dusted finger at the Poster.
“I just want to correct the public’s distorted aesthetic and uphold the dignity of the Church.”
“By the way, can the Cheese Custard Tarts be packed to go?”
“Hehe, I knew you’d agree, Celia.”
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