To clear up the misunderstanding as quickly as possible, Greg immediately spoke up to explain:
"Allie, did you misunderstand something? She and I didn't rekindle an old flame!"
Allie stopped in her tracks and turned around. Her amber eyes stared straight at him, filled with scrutiny and suspicion. "Then why were you out shopping with her?"
"The only reason she went shopping with me today was to return a favor."
Greg explained at a rapid-fire pace:
"If we hadn't happened to bump into each other at the academy entrance, neither of us would have ever taken the initiative to speak to the other. How could that possibly be rekindling an old flame?"
He paused, then doubled down:
"Besides, with my current status, there's no way we could ever reinstate an engagement, okay? I'm just an exile banished by my family now, while she's still the Kingdom's First Princess and the Student Council President of Glory Cael Magic Academy. The divide between us is far wider than it was three years ago."
"The only reason we can stand together now is that we've grown up and completely let go of our past relationship. But I never expected you to turn around and treat me like some scumbag who'd crawl back to an ex. Sigh—"
As he reached the end, he let out a deliberate sigh, putting on a heartbroken expression.
Allie's expression gradually shifted.
The coldness in her eyes began to thaw bit by bit, replaced by a half-believing, half-doubting hesitation.
She tilted her head slightly as if weighing the credibility of his words, only speaking after a brief pause: "Then... did I misunderstand you, Young Master?"
"What else?"
Greg immediately turned the tables, crossing his arms and putting on a 'now it's my turn to be angry' stance, giving her an icy look:
"Now let me ask you: What on earth did I do wrong?"
Allie fell silent for a moment, then lowered her head, a rare hint of yielding in her voice: "I'm sorry, Young Master Greg. I misjudged you."
"If apologies actually solved anything, why would we need the knights?"
Allie's voice turned slightly cold: "Oh? Then what would you like, Young Master?"
Greg pushed his luck, raising his chin slightly:
"If you want my forgiveness, it depends on the sincerity you show me."
The moment the words left his mouth, a flash of cold light gleamed.
A sharp blade was already pressed against Greg's neck, its freezing touch flush against his skin, causing him to freeze instantly.
He hadn't even seen how Allie drew her sword—the speed was so fast his eyes couldn't track it at all.
A smile so sweet it sent chills down his spine hung on Allie's face, her voice as gentle as if lulling a child to sleep:
"Young Master Greg, look... is this sincerity enough for you~?"
Cold sweat broke out on Greg instantly.
He could feel the sharp blade pressing against his carotid artery. If Allie's hand trembled even a millimeter, he would be sent to meet the King of the Underworld, and she would immediately follow him into death in a double suicide.
And so, Greg's voice instantly became incomparably obedient:
"...It's enough! More than enough! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed my luck. Thank you for giving a scumbag like me a chance at a new life."
Only then did Allie sheathe her sword with satisfaction. Her movements were crisp and clean, the blade entering the scabbard with a sharp click.
Her tone carried a relieved satisfaction: "Even though your personality is terrible, you idiot Young Master, you're not entirely beyond redemption."
Greg: "..."
Your personality is clearly way worse than mine, isn't it?!
Of course, he only dared to think this complaint in his head; he definitely didn't dare say it out loud.
He didn't want to drag the topic back to that now. It had taken considerable effort to soothe Allie's temper, and he had no desire to step on another landmine.
Allie walked ahead, heading toward the stronghold of the religious order, asking without turning her head:
"So, idiot Young Master, why did you come looking for me this time?"
Greg picked up his pace to keep up, a smile plastered on his face:
"Am I the kind of person who only visits when I need something? Can't it just be that I wanted to see you, so I came over on purpose!"
The edges of Allie's ears flushed slightly red. She didn't turn back, but her voice maintained that cold tone:
"You're clearly so terrified of my sword, yet you still dare to say such things. Do you really think I don't know what kind of person you are, Young Master?"
"I'm really not scared just because you used to beat me black and blue with the hilt of your sword back in the day. This time, I actually—"
Greg cut himself off mid-sentence.
Because he noticed that Allie had led him to a stop in front of a building.
It was a vast estate located in the most expensive section of the district.
The estate's main entrance featured two carved wrought-iron gates, with neatly trimmed ivy clinging to the gateposts.
Through the gaps in the gate, a meticulously maintained garden was visible. The lawn was pristine, and a gravel-paved path meandered toward the main building.
The main building was a three-story villa with exterior walls built of light-colored stone. Its windows were bright and spacious, reflecting a warm glow under the setting sun.
Exquisite bas-relief carvings decorated the eaves, and blooming roses climbed along the iron railings of the balconies.
The entire estate exuded an air of understated yet elegant nobility, looking immensely expensive at a glance.
"What are we doing here?"
Allie tilted her head in confusion: "What are we doing here? Because this is our stronghold, of course."
"!!!"
Greg stared blankly at the luxurious manor before him, then recalled the shabby camp where he was living.
He fell silent.
An indescribable surge of complex emotions welled up in his heart.
No, wait, how can the gap between two people be wider than the gap between a human and a dog?!
Greg's envy and jealousy didn't stop there.
He followed behind Allie, passing through the heavy carved wrought-iron gate and stepping onto the meticulously paved gravel path toward the main building.
Just as they reached the entrance, the double oak doors were gently pulled open from the inside. Several maids in black-and-white uniforms stood behind the doors, bowing slightly to them with elegant posture.
Their attire was neat and crisp, their hair pinned up immaculately. Soft, professional smiles adorned their faces as they spoke in a gentle, unified chorus: "Welcome back, Lady Allie."
Greg froze for a moment, nodded subconsciously, and followed Allie inside.
Stepping into the main building, the interior decoration made his heart tighten even further.
The spacious foyer featured marble flooring, with a crystal chandelier suspended in the center. Even unlit, it refracted a soft halo in the rays of the setting sun.
One of the maids stepped forward to follow them, taking the lead half a step ahead to guide their way.
Her steps were light and steady, maintaining a perfect distance at all times. At every corner, she would turn slightly, gesturing the direction while softly reminding them of steps or uneven flooring.
As Greg walked, he muttered inwardly to himself.
He had originally assumed that the so-called stronghold of the religious order was probably some remote chapel, complete with a few shabby living quarters and a damp underground archive.
After all, as a newly formed order, it felt like the kind of organization that barely scraped by on believers' donations, living hand-to-mouth.
Yet the scene before him far exceeded his expectations. This single manor alone—the maintenance costs alone must be an astronomical figure.
This forced Greg to seriously doubt: Is what they're running really a religious order? Why are they so ridiculously rich?
Rate on N.U.
