Chapter 17
“I think someone who gets drunk and rolls around like you, Senior, is more dog-like than I am.”
“Who said that? Are you saying I got drunk and rolled around?”
“Disgusting. Go scrub yourself clean.”
“Hey now. Puppies shouldn’t say bad things to people. Sit. Stay. Paw. Shake.”
“Senior!”
Arden protested, his face turning red.
Maybe he’d washed up that morning and come out without drying properly—his usually bright blond hair stood up in messy spikes in the winter wind.
Glossy blond hair and a huge build. No wonder he looked no different from the collie I saw at dawn today.
“Treating a person like a dog…”
I ignored his muttering and shoved a bundle of handkerchiefs into his arms. Even then, he dutifully handed me the payment.
This kid—how is the money he carries around always so crisp? Does he have a butler who irons his bills?
“Seraphina.”
Ellie, who had been watching Arden with an amused grin, handed me a newspaper folded in half.
On the front page was a large black-and-white photograph—Arden was captured in the corner of the Ingrid estate’s main gate, looking sideways.
It was blurry enough that only his silhouette was visible, but he still stood out for being handsome.
“Arden, this is you, right?”
I had seen him at the scene yesterday, so I already knew, but I asked as if I didn’t.
“Ah.”
Arden glanced at the photo and answered.
“I happened to be nearby yesterday.”
“At that hour before dawn?”
“It happens. You were rolling around a tavern at dawn yourself, weren’t you, Senior?”
“I wasn’t rolling around…”
I was working for justice at that hour, thank you very much.
I glanced at Arden.
He held his hands a little awkwardly apart, probably wanting to wash them quickly after touching money—his expression showed no suspicion at all.
Right after I heard about Pepper from Arden yesterday, everything blew up…
I’d been worried he might suspect me.
Seems I was mistaken.
He’s terrible at hiding things anyway.
Everything shows right on that kid’s face.
‘Ugh, dirty!’ ‘Ugh! Filthy!’ ‘Ugh! Scrub scrub scrub!’
Feeling reassured, I asked:
“So, Arden—how was it? Being at the scene of the Saint Witch incident yesterday, even if you were just passing by?”
He had called her a clout-chaser craving attention.
“So how does it feel now that this ‘clout-chaser’ exposed the crimes of a major trading company?”
“……”
Arden pouted, but admitted obediently:
“She is impressive.”
“Oh? Really?”
“Yes. She’s definitely capable. To uncover a corruption scheme that even the Imperial Knights and the Bureau investigators couldn’t…”
“Hehe.”
Feeling proud, I unfolded the newspaper fully.
Below the huge photo of the burning mansion was an excerpt from a 950-year-old diary—some journalist had found it in the library—which described the Saint Witch’s appearance.
The journalist had even added an illustration based on the diary:
A tight, short-sleeved top that looked practically sewn onto the body, a skirt as short as my current battle uniform, long boots up to the knees, and heels thiiiiiiis tall.
“I can’t judge who she is just yet, but… at the very least, I take back what I said about her being a clou—”
Arden froze. His eyes had landed bam! on the illustration I’d opened.
“……”
“…Is that…”
“Hmm?”
“Is that… what Saint Witches wear?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.”
“Even the modern Saint Witch… dresses like that?”
“Huh? I mean… probably?”
“……”
Arden’s face hardened.
“I take back taking it back.”
“What?”
“Going outside in an outfit like that—is she out of her mind?”
“No…!”
It was a misunderstanding!
“She even ran across rooftops dressed like that, didn’t she? This is a serious violation of the public’s right not to see things!”
And yesterday she must have been running around District 2 dressed like that!
“Ugh!”
Ugh?!
“I’m sure she has her reasons!”
“What reason?! Did she catch some disease that makes her die if she isn’t exposing skin?!”
No!! The outfit has a face-concealing magic enchantment!!
“Exhibitionist pervert!”
“Pervert?! People dressed like that 950 years ago!”
“Is it 950 years ago right now?!”
“Have some respect for tradition!”
“That’s not tradition—that’s a social ill!”
It sets a terrible example for growing kids!
“Imagine that kid Pepper from yesterday being ‘inspired’ by the Saint Witch and wearing something like that!”
“……!”
I had no rebuttal. Arden glared down at me, trembling.
“Clout-chaser. Exhibitionist. Indecent attire. Punishable.”
Every word stabbed like a nail.
“Well, then.”
Leaving me in tatters, Arden exited the fitting room.
As I fumed and looked around, I spotted a silver-haired man heading to the second floor.
“Hey, you!”
He turned back at my irritable voice and smiled.
“It’s you. Made it back safely from the bar yesterday?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
“That’s good. I heard a huge incident took place near Lake Temeren last night. Everything okay?”
“Yes, also thanks to you.”
I glanced at the boxes in his arms.
“You’re taking those to storage, right? I’ll come with you—I’ll open the door.”
“That would be helpful.”
He accepted without hesitation and smiled.
He definitely looks like the type who’s made multiple women cry.
He didn’t look like someone who should be doing errands here.
I followed him upstairs, opened the storage room door, and gestured him inside.
“Thank you.”
He smiled with his eyes as he walked in.
The boxes didn’t seem heavy—he carried three at once. The moment he stepped inside, I kicked him squarely in the back.
CRASH!
The boxes went flying out of his arms.
As he spun around—barely avoiding falling over—I was already closing the door.
Click.
I leaned against it so he couldn’t escape.
Cracking my neck, I asked:
“You. What are you?”
“I… don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”
“You really don’t know?”
“I don’t.”
“If you don’t know, then I have to beat it into you.”
But first—
“Come out, Dubu.”
“Seraphina!”
From between the buttons of the man’s winter coat, Dubu poked out his head.
“Seraphina! I can explain everything, woof!”
“Mm-hmm. Go ahead.”
“But how did you know I was in here?”
“How did I—”
Your coat wiggles every time you hear my voice. How could I not know?
“I’ve known for a while that you were connected to this man.”
“How?!”
“The room was too big.”
Back when I visited the Great Shrine to sign the contract with the Saint Witch, Dubu’s room…
Even if the size made sense, there were things like a desk with drawers you couldn’t open with Dubu’s strength, neatly arranged writing tools… all clearly for a human.
“There’s no way that was really your room.”
Even if you’re a divine beast, only a handful of high-ranking people in the shrine should even know you exist.
What shrine gives a dog a room like that?
“I always thought there must be someone behind you. Someone who handled the oracle and helped with everything. And besides—”
“Besides?”
“Yesterday, you wagged your tail at this man way too naturally.”
The way he petted your head and scratched your brow—those two had at least ten years of practice together.
“You didn’t even bother hiding it properly, did you?”
“…I told you we shouldn’t hide it, didn’t I, woof…”
Dubu drooped and spoke to the man. I glanced at Dubu once, then fixed my gaze on the man again.
“So. Who are you?”
“I’m…”
“No no, wait. Don’t tell me. I think I know.”
The owner of that large room deep inside the shrine.
The divine beast’s friend.
“The answer is obvious! You’re the Saint Wizard!”
“……”
“What, do you also wear short shorts?”
“……”
I looked him up and down.
His face looked like a heavenly delinquent, his movements elegant, and though he looked slim, anyone could tell he was built solid underneath.
Height, arms, shoulders—those aren’t things you can hide.
Imagining that body in a ribboned top and short shorts…
In that instant, I understood Arden’s feelings completely.
“Ugh!”
