Posts from ☀️ Arselia and Akonia Auto-translated

- Arigato, - the priestess mumbled. - I... won't jump off the ball.
"As long as there are still things in this world that I need to finish," she finished the sentence in her mind.
- Let's go "home," Edgelord-kun. It's already... - she glanced at the sun but couldn't determine the time. - ...late. I hope that some rest will help me rethink everything.

At that moment, Lord Ravenage firmly decided on two contradictory things for himself. He vowed to do everything in his power to help Ayano feel at home in this world, and also that he would never forgive this world if he lost her.

They return to the hotel.

Ah, it's a shame that everyone got spoiled about the mandate in advance. Imagine, players would have started running around the new shops as usual, and then they would have disappeared in a single day.

Ah, it's a shame that everyone got spoiled about the mandate in advance. Imagine, players would start running around the new shops as usual and then disappear in a single day.

I hope Beata and Guiyon would still get loot from them.

At that moment, Lord Ravenage firmly decided for himself

That he still hadn't learned anything...

Raptilion: +2 to Luck, +1 to Perception, +1 to Beauty, +1 to Intelligence, +1 to Stamina.
The archive has taken Clinu into account.

Beata enthusiastically describes how Guyon participates in a male beauty contest, and she gives him top scores. At some point, a random man she didn't know interrupted her imaginings, but she decided that it was even better, and after that, her fantasy took a completely strange turn, which we will leave to the reader's imagination.

Thanks. Did the Wednesday events also get consumed?

Da

Ayano didn't place her ofuda, which separated her half of the room, this time, nor did she put the stack of them within easy reach, and she didn't hide the dagger of honor in the folds of the blanket.
If Lord Ravenage still wanted to dishonor her and steal the black mask from her inventory, then this was the long-awaited moment. Perhaps then she would finally lose the protection of the Kami-sama, who, according to the priest, shouldn't even exist in this world, and the spiritual connection she felt with them was actually a sinful connection with the slippery tentacles of Miss Cosmos, and then she could, with a clear conscience, cut open her stomach and rid the world of her poisonous presence.
According to all the rules, she should have tossed and turned for half the night, tormented by heavy thoughts and unable to fall asleep, but perhaps the reason was the long day's journey and the lack of sleep beforehand, or perhaps she was emotionally exhausted after the conversation with the clergyman, but sleep came to her within five to ten minutes, mercifully shutting off her consciousness from the overwhelming weight.
As she was falling asleep, she managed to think that tonight she would dream of being a demon in Reisen Reima's palace, pursued by a priest from Mitten, Evgeny Kripov, and Castor L. Tselen in their attempts to betray her to the sword and scatter her corpse into atoms.

Hey, shouldn't Alarie be dreaming that she's a demon?

"Wow, and here's an opportunity for point 12!"
-- It depends, of course, on the nature of the contest, but based on the title, it's more than suitable. Can you tell me more?

- The details are still being determined. I plan to hold three stages, but for now, only the first one has been decided - of course, we're talking about evaluating the appearance of the participants.

-- Here's how... Well, as for the remaining candidates, it seems logical to have some kind of sporting and intellectual criterion. Perhaps. Of course, there are people in the city who, if they wanted to participate, would hardly lose; against them, anyone would look like a gray mouse... But still, I find this interesting; you can sign me up, Lady Nadia).

Late in the evening, Klin visits the imperial archive. Initially, he went there with a clear purpose: to find a guide to blacksmithing so that he would at least be able to repair a broken crown if necessary, but instead, he stumbled upon literature of a completely different kind. "An Interview with Her Highness" was dated the month he left for Calcite. The magazine was already quite crumpled with greasy paw prints from greedy scavengers looking for free loot. For a moment, the knight even wanted to put the magazine down so as not to look like a hungry hyena gnawing on the remains of bones, but out of respect for the author and the person being interviewed, he decided not to. He himself had only stayed in the city for two days after completing the southern campaign, which was a negligible amount of time compared to the decade he had diligently served Princess Naria. Klin the Old would have used this knowledge to figure out how to serve his mistress even better. Klin the New... wanted to get closer to understanding what kind of person she really was. Or at least, what she wanted to appear to be. "I advise readers and fans not to worship idols... including me." Truth or lie? Klin closed the magazine and plunged into dark thoughts for four hours. No matter how much his intellect sharpened his mind, he still couldn't connect Naria's random comment from the interview with the words of Father Eugene and his own, new feelings. There was a simple way to find out the truth, but using it could lead to the most unpredictable consequences. Maybe sometime later. It didn't matter now. As the first princess and the first viceroy of the goddess had said in unison, let only righteous ideals and close people be in his thoughts. Ha, what a silly confession from a living dead man! At this rate, he might accidentally exorcise himself. To distract himself, Klin skimmed through a hopelessly outdated guidebook and a couple of random books. His gaze stopped on "The School of Baldur." And why wasn't he even half as cool and successful as Kiven? It's just a pity that the library staff forgot to erase the name of the top-secret organization. Of course, it's unlikely that anyone would pay attention to this, and even if they did, they wouldn't find out anything anyway. Long after sunset, the black knight returns home. Having made sure that nothing threatens the peace of Sanex, by order of the unfair gods of balance, he is forced to sink into oblivion for the next twelve hours.

This time, Ayano didn't set up the divider for her half of the room, nor did she place their stack of belongings within easy reach, nor did she hide the Dagger of Honor in the folds of the blanket.
If Lord Ravenage still wanted to dishonor her and steal the black mask from her inventory, then this was the long-awaited moment. Perhaps then she would finally lose the patronage of the Kami-sama, who, according to the priest, should not have existed in this world, and the spiritual connection she felt with them was actually a sinful connection with the slippery tentacles of Miss Cosmos, and then she could, with a clear conscience, slit her own throat and rid the world of her poisonous presence.
According to all the rules, she should have tossed and turned all night, burdened by heavy thoughts and unable to fall asleep, but perhaps the reason was the long day's journey and the lack of sleep beforehand, or perhaps she was emotionally exhausted after the conversation with the clergyman, but sleep came to her within five to ten minutes, mercifully shutting off her consciousness from the overwhelming weight.
As she was falling asleep, she managed to think that today she would dream of being a demon in Reisen Reima's palace, pursued by a priest from Mitten, Eugene Kripov, and Castor L. Celene in their attempts to betray her to the sword and scatter her corpse into atoms.

As in the previous nights, Ayano's honor was not violated by anyone. Whether with or without daggers and protective talismans, the result was the same. The only thing that was different this time was that in the morning, Lord woke up before her, and when Ayano woke up, he had already prepared a fresh breakfast for her.
“Good morning, Ayaya,” he greeted her with such a kind smile that for a moment it seemed like it was a completely different person. “I know that depriving you of Trude's cooking would be a crime, but I still hope you like it.”
It was a simple but skillfully prepared dish – an omelet with rice, thinly sliced cucumber, and herbs. He even managed to find some ketchup somewhere to draw a sun on the surface of the omelet, instead of his favorite moon, but he used it sparingly so as not to affect the taste more than necessary.

some kind of sports-related thing

running