After the uninvolved onlookers departed, Lynch held back almost nothing. Aside from the insights regarding the nature of mystery relics and the Dreamlands—which his audience cut short—he openly shared everything that had occurred over the past five days.
Looking back, though those five days had seemed devoid of grand cataclysms, every step had actually been fraught with peril, teetering on the brink of failure at any moment. Coming out alive was a stroke of luck in itself, and successfully retrieving the human-faced fruits was truly no small feat.
Yet in the end, he had succeeded, returning home in triumph with seven human-faced fruits.
The quantity was sufficient, and each fruit was plump and juicy. They looked even fresher than the one around Lynch's neck, meaning their medicinal potency would undoubtedly be far superior.
According to Mrs. Nightingale, the creation of the medicine could begin immediately. Within a few days, the first batch of the targeted remedy would be introduced to the world, saving countless lives for a long time to come.
Calling it a salvation for all living beings was no exaggeration. As the prime mover behind the effort, the Church of Suffering had poured in endless manpower, material resources, and wealth, but they would inevitably harvest a massive surge of faith, easily offsetting their costs. As for Lynch, the actual executor, while it was inconvenient to overly publicize his deeds lest it dilute the faith harvested by Fiona, the Lord of Suffering, he could at least...
Hmm? Lynch noticed that Mrs. Nightingale was wearing a rather peculiar expression.
“Actually, your name is already known to the upper echelons of most major factions by now. They all know what you've done for them.” The elderly woman smiled like a fox eyeing a fat chicken. “It couldn't be helped. Someone spread the word about your deeds, and it traveled fast—reaching nearly all three continents within a matter of days. Mmh... I reckon that from now on, unless you venture into the savage lands of the New Continent, you'll be treated well wherever you go.”
Wasn't this basically a faction-wide reputation boost?
Unless he actively sought his own death, he would enjoy unimpeded travel around the world just like Mrs. Nightingale, with people in most places treating him with utmost respect. Tsk, that sounded pretty sweet. But wait, how did this happen?
Lynch wiped the corner of his mouth and grinned. “Who did this? How terribly nosy. I really ought to give them a stern talking-to.”
The elderly woman beamed warmly. “I did.”
“???” Though he nearly choked on his own spit, Lynch instantly straightened his face and spoke with utmost seriousness. “Now that is where you are wrong, Madam. To protect this world and safeguard the common folk, taking a tiny risk to perform a modest, trifling deed is only my duty! How could you go around publicizing it? Doesn't that diminish the purity of my selfless devotion? What you did was wrong—please don't ever do it again.”
“Very well, I accept your criticism and shall surely correct my ways,” the old woman replied with utmost sincerity. “How about I issue a retraction shortly, claiming it was all a misunderstanding and that you didn't do anything at all?”
“Ahem, cough, there's no need to be that thorough in your correction. Changing statements so recklessly would surely harm your reputation and cast a bad light on Lady Fiona as well. Forget it, forget it, let's just leave it as is—I'll reluctantly accept it.” Lynch gave a dry laugh before adding, “Still, is this truly alright? It's great for me, of course—I'm thrilled—no, wait, I mean deeply flattered! But as for the Church and Lady Fiona...”
“You showed goodwill toward the Church and were willing to take a loss to help us. We are deeply grateful, but that was your own choice. We can accept your kindness, but we cannot take it for granted, nor can we accept it with a clear conscience if we leave you unacknowledged. The Church is indeed poor, and I cannot bring myself to grant you equivalent rewards, but we aren't so destitute that we must usurp the credit belonging to you children. The glory is yours, and no one can take it away.”
The elderly woman stopped jesting, her tone turning somber.
“Of course, if you feel so touched that you wish to donate a few hundred Lande pounds, I wouldn't mind either. I heard you currently possess over fifty pounds in assets, and...”
Cold sweat burst from Lynch's forehead as he shook his head vigorously. “Absolutely not! That's a complete rumor!”
Mrs. Nightingale let out a regretful sigh and added, “Besides, this was also the will of the Lord.”
“Hmm?”
“Lady Fiona believes you need this recognition and is willing to share it with you. Perhaps it holds little meaning to you now, but you will find it useful in the future.”
Lynch was taken aback, suddenly recalling the white shadow that had once appeared in his consciousness.
‘Neighbor, was she talking about you?’
【Mmh, it doesn't matter.】
That put his mind at ease. Lynch had always been a thoughtful person who disliked putting others in awkward positions—especially when those benefits were offered freely. Naturally, he accepted them with delight.
However, the information brought back by the four of them still cast a dark shadow over the entire affair.
Although the medicine had yet to be crafted, Mrs. Nightingale's seasoned judgment confirmed that Lynch's concerns were not unfounded: the drug would likely be ineffective for those who had already manifested symptoms.
Still, as long as those bitten took the medication in time, they wouldn't die. That alone was enough to curb the plague's spread and prevent it from becoming a world-ending calamity. At most, a few hundred thousand primary patients would perish. While the number was terrifying, to people like Mrs. Nightingale, it was an acceptable sacrifice.
Therefore, this wasn't even entirely bad news. Since they knew about the flaw in advance, they had time to search for a solution. Even if they failed to find one, they could mentally prepare themselves beforehand. All things considered, it was still positive news.
Thus, everyone was pleased with the outcome.
After declining several invitations to celebration feasts, Lynch agreed to visit the Arcane Tower later with President Gulman of the Arcane Research Society to hand over the arcane knowledge he had obtained from Dr. Sven. He also accepted an invitation conveyed by the spymaster, Baron Boivar, on behalf of Princess Sophia for a meeting. After that, naturally...
Naturally, everyone went back to their own homes. This wasn't an era where one could act improperly at whim—much as Lynch wished he could.
Poor Officer Natalie was caught on the spot by Mr. V, who reportedly demanded she submit a report to headquarters as soon as possible. But judging by the gossip-hungry looks on the Watchers' faces, it was obvious what kind of “report” they were eager to read. On the other side, a group of women had already swarmed around the crimson-faced count's daughter, chattering louder than the human-faced fruits. Ah, Diana, it's not that I don't want to save you, but you'd better pray for yourself.
As for Judy, she had already snuck away while he was delivering his report earlier.
In short, with all tasks on this journey successfully concluded, Lynch finally felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. After agreeing to meet the two ladies the next day to visit the Arcane Tower together, he hitched a ride with the Church of Suffering and returned to the long-absent Rhine City.
As they approached Charles Square, Lynch noticed something amiss.
Beside the dilapidated, old buildings near the square, a crowd of burly men in overalls had gathered. They were clearly artisans from the Hall of Crafts.
Moving about in groups along the square, they pointed and gestured at the buildings, whispering amongst themselves. It wasn't until Lynch stepped off the carriage by Charles Square and grabbed a few wild kids running around to ask that he learned the truth: over the past few days, the city hall had issued a new policy—a hazardous housing renovation project for the King District.
According to the official line, the top brass at city hall believed that poor citizens were also subjects of the Kingdom, and their lives and safety had to be protected. Since certain buildings in the King District had become far too dangerous to inhabit, the noble lords couldn't bear to see citizens hurt, so city hall was funding the renovation of high-risk structures.
Of course, there was a slightly more realistic, albeit unofficial rumor: a prominent figure had emerged in the King District and stubbornly refused to move out. To curry favor with this big shot—and to avoid having other high-ranking figures visiting him look upon a dilapidated King District—city hall had specially approved the project.
As Lynch listened, his expression grew increasingly subtle.
He felt a wave of emotion in his heart. Ever since coming to this world, every choice he made had subtly influenced everything around him.
It was quite a wondrous feeling.
“And so, Your Lordship Sir Levive, everyone who knows about this is deeply grateful to you.”
As the voice reached his ears, he felt arms wrap around his waist. Turning his head, he met a sight of dazzling golden hair.
Having not seen her for a few days, Mrs. Maggie was as beautiful as ever, and the little “pendant” clinging to his waist was just as bratty as ever.
The blonde landlady smiled gently, offering a polite curtsy.
“Welcome home, Sir Knight.”
Lynch scooped up little Martha in one motion, a brilliant smile breaking across his face. “Mm, I'm back.”
Rate on N.U.
