The Morning After and the Moonscar Mission

“Smack!”

A sharp smack resonated against her cheek.

Saranya slowly opened her eyes, finding herself sprawled across the bed in a daze, clutching a soft, small figure in her arms.

“Master… hmm?”

Kaelan, who had been sleeping beside her, was now pressed against her body, enveloped in Saranya’s embrace.

Her arms were wrapped around Kaelan’s side, palms resting against Kaelan’s tender back, while her legs were clasped behind Kaelan’s waist and hips, as if she were cradling a soft body pillow.

Their limbs were intertwined.

The young woman was pressed tightly against Saranya, her slightly ragged breaths ghosting across Saranya’s cheek, while a few strands of fragrant, soft hair fell loose, brushing against her neck.

‘It tickled.’

Kaelan’s body was warm, soft, and light.

Saranya could feel her heartbeat, a steady rhythm pulsing through the thin fabric.

“Smack!”

Another slap landed on her other cheek, jolting Saranya fully awake.

She hastily released Kaelan, who was still atop her, and gently returned her to the bed.

Kaelan’s clothes were disheveled, her face flushed with indignation.

Clearly, she had endured quite a bit of ‘molestation’ during the night.

She smoothed her tangled hair, then lifted her head to glare furiously at Saranya.

“All night… You wretched s*ave, do you even realize what you’ve done!”

‘All night? I had Kaelan in a full-body clamp, hands and feet, for an entire night?!’

‘Oh no, I’ve really crossed a line this time.

All the goodwill I’d painstakingly built up is about to be wiped clean!’

‘And Kaelan’s aura, this oppressive feeling, it’s terrifying.

She might actually just kill me…’

The more Saranya thought about it, the more terrified she became, dropping to her knees by the bedside with a thud.

“Master, I told you my sleeping posture is terrible!

I was half-asleep, and I truly thought you were a life-sized body pillow… In any case, I didn’t mean it, Sumimasen (TL Note: A Japanese loanword, ‘sumimasen,’ often used in Chinese web novels to mean ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘excuse me’)!”

“But, but thanks to you, this humble s*ave slept wonderfully.

I’m sure I can redouble my efforts today and guarantee your safety!”

‘Yes, Master is truly fragrant and soft, perfectly snug in my arms.

It was so comfortable…’

Saranya was gradually lost in her pleasant recollections, only to be yanked back to reality by Kaelan’s indignant voice.

“You haven’t forgotten your place, have you, Saranya?”

“Never, Master!”

“I’ve perspired quite a bit.

I need to bathe.

Go fetch me some hot water and soap.”

Saranya, feeling a wave of relief, bolted from the room.

She scrubbed herself clean in a corner of the ground floor, then filled a large tub with hot water and, grunting with effort, carried it upstairs to the second floor.

“Set it down, then get out.”

As soon as she placed the tub, Saranya was promptly ushered out of the room by her Master.

‘Damn it.’

Saranya stood guard outside the door like a watchdog, shooing away male lodgers who dared to peek, all while straining her ears to listen to the sounds of water from inside the room, a strange itch stirring within her.

‘It was fortunate her ‘second brother’ wasn’t around; otherwise, with people constantly passing through this corridor, the situation would have been incredibly awkward.’

Finally, Kaelan’s cool voice drifted from behind the door: “Come in.”

Pushing the door open, a faint, fresh scent wafted towards her—a warm blend of rose, sandalwood, and soap.

Saranya focused her gaze and instantly froze.

Kaelan stood before the window, her long hair damp and casually draped over her shoulders, water droplets still clinging to the tips, shimmering faintly in the morning light.

She was clad in a sheer white bathrobe, the fabric softly clinging to her form, outlining her graceful waist and slender legs.

One fragrant shoulder was exposed, still glistening with unevaporated moisture, as a few beads of water slowly trickled down her pale pink skin.

The young woman’s eyes were half-closed, her lips a delicate red.

The usual aloofness had melted from her expression, replaced by a touch of languid allure.

Saranya felt her throat go dry.

“Have you seen enough?”

“Master… you’re so beautiful.”

Saranya snapped back to her senses, hastily lowering her head.

Realizing her transgression, her cheeks burned crimson, and she stood frozen in place.

Kaelan merely chuckled, a playful smirk curving her lips.

‘How embarrassing.

Still, it’s fine; it seems Master didn’t hear my foolish words.’

Suddenly, the familiar sound of horse-drawn carriages reached them from outside the window, followed by a cacophony of chattering voices.

This drew Saranya to the window, where she and Kaelan looked out together.

Leif had driven the carriage over.

As yesterday, their breakfast and new clothes were already prepared inside.

Pushing through the idly curious crowd outside the tavern, the two boarded Leif’s carriage, beginning their preparations for the day’s bounty.

Their first priority was undoubtedly to meet with the clerical siblings, to commence the tasks entrusted by the Church.

Most crucially, they needed to find a way to secure the siblings’ support during this process.

If all went smoothly, two matters would need to proceed concurrently:

First, they would need to elevate Paresha to the position of High Priestess through ‘external assistance,’ clearing away other competitors.

Second, through the siblings, they would acquire a property in Vero City under the Church’s name.

It was well-known that beyond Vero City’s central district lay the dominion of various guilds and gangs; only by leveraging the Church as their backing could they insert themselves among these forces and claim a share of the spoils.

Anyone who managed to rise to prominence, whether good or evil, invariably possessed their own patronage system and network of connections, and expanding and managing these was a true art.

And so, the Medieval Urban Gang Simulator: activated!

Of course, it was still too early to dwell on such thoughts.

For now, their focus remained solely on the current commission.

To do a good job, one must first sharpen their tools.

Saranya wanted to examine the equipment first.

Regarding the equipment, she was quite surprised to find that Kaelan had already prepared a full set of boiled leather armor for her.

The boiling process for the armor was highly refined, offering excellent protection against slashes and cuts, yet without appearing ostentatious or overly expensive.

Saranya tied up her hair, donned the undergarments, fastened the armor clasps, and then inspected herself in the full-length mirror.

“How does it look?”

“It fits perfectly.”

“And the longsword?

I had the blacksmith forge it based on your previous weapon.”

“It handles very well.”

“Turn around so I can see.”

Saranya obediently turned, facing Kaelan who was seated gracefully at the table, and fidgeted a little, feeling somewhat at a loss.

Kaelan scrutinized her for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

“Good, I’m satisfied too.”

‘Why do I feel like a newlywed wife…’

Compared to Saranya’s attire, Kaelan’s was significantly lighter, as befitting a mage: she wore a deep blue robe adorned with interwoven patterns, cloaked in an azure mantle bearing the Hillburg family crest.

Around her neck hung the amethyst pendant she never removed.

She wasn’t wearing a wizard’s hat—which was sensible, as wearing such an item out in public was akin to emblazoning ‘I am a witch’ across one’s forehead.

Saranya knelt, cupped Kaelan’s elegant feet in her hands, and bowed her head to lightly kiss them.

“Thank you for your trouble, Master.”

This gratitude was genuine; as a knight, Saranya knew that custom-made sets were all incredibly valuable and required a great deal of thought from the buyer.

Just then, a knock sounded on the carriage door.

“Paresha, you look truly lovely today~”

“Lady Hillburg, you too!”

“Miss Haia, h-hello…”

“Oh, Lord Westir, hello.”

After polite pleasantries, the two welcomed Westir and Paresha into the carriage.

Saranya offered a slight bow to Westir, who appeared quite reserved, sitting at the table with a shy smile, clutching his thick book tightly to his chest.

Paresha, unlike her brother, was quite different.

She first lavished praise on the carriage’s spaciousness and luxury, looking everywhere with wide-eyed curiosity, and only after half a day of playful exploration did she finally consent to sit at the table with the others to discuss matters.

Meanwhile, outside, Leif urged the carriage forward, driving them out of the city.

“Our destination is the ‘Little Moonflower Church,’ a Moonscar Sect church built outside the city.

It was abandoned due to a raging magic storm that made it inaccessible, but recently, with the receding of the magic tide, it has seen the light of day once more.

The immediate priority is to recover the church’s sacred relic as quickly as possible.

To our knowledge, several gangs and mercenary groups have already set their sights on the location.”

Westir spread a bounty notice on the table.

[Those who retrieve the sacred relic and return it to the Moonscar Sect’s sanctuary in Vero City’s central district shall receive a bounty of 700 Pyros.]

Saranya propped her chin in her hand, her gaze lingering on the bounty notice.

“Where is this sacred relic?”

“In the church’s catacombs, on an altar.

I will lead you there, but…”

Westir swallowed, his voice growing hesitant.

“Are there undead creatures resurrected by the magic plague there?”

Kaelan lightly licked her upper lip, articulating the answer for Westir.