#039. The Maiden’s First Love Is Too Kind (1)

#039. The Maiden’s First Love Is Too Kind (1)

Ian watched Maria, the Inquisitor, who even today was stationed at the adventurer matching table, gazing out the window.

Amidst the low-level adventurers, barely distinguishable from beggars, and the mid-level adventurers plastered with monster materials that would make a fashion terrorist blush, she was an Alpha Female mowing down the peasantry.

Her dark navy long-sleeved top was tailored to fit her perfectly, showing off her swelling pockets of faith and healthy, lean abdominal line.

The dark navy long skirt, slit to the ankle, allowed for easy movement while enticing the male gaze.

Silver embroidery adorned the skirt’s hem, creating a sense of unity with her outfit, and a silver-buckled belt added an air of sophistication.

And, like the final touch of perfection, was the cloak-like coat, black on the outside and lined with crimson.

Draped over her shoulders and worn open to showcase her figure and style, it revealed her uniform in its entirety, leaving the other women intimidated and hesitant to approach.

“Should I go try talking to her?”

“She lives in a different world, do you really think she’d even acknowledge you?”

“Let’s just go before we embarrass ourselves.”

Five adventuring parties had already formed outside the matching table, spurred by her presence.

Her alpha energy was so intense that even the male adventurers, who would usually swarm any attractive woman, couldn’t muster the courage to speak, only hovering at a distance.

Her face, the final touch to her flawless fashion, was so breathtaking that it left people speechless.

‘How can I possibly get rid of her?’

Ian was utterly serious.

Not because of the intimidated adventurers.

But because of her past: the Inquisitor, always an enemy.

A brainwasher unable to brainwash.

Was such a thing even possible?

As he was now, he was powerless.

If anyone knew the truth, they’d probably question if he was even capable of brainwashing, or why he even used brainwashing this way when he seemed to do fine without it, but sadly, no one here knew the truth.

Lost in his futile musings, Maria approached Ian.

“What troubles weigh so heavily on your mind?”

Maria’s intentions were crystal clear.

*I’m interested in you.*

While male adventurers inwardly wept tears of blood, Ian, unable to admit he was trying to find a way to chase her off, offered a reply laced with partial truths.

“I was pondering the dangers lurking within Sodom and the Guild.”

Ian’s constant concern for others struck Maria as incredibly admirable.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, please tell me. I’ll do my best.”

The Guild was abuzz with gasps and cries as Maria seized Ian’s hand.

Ian was the one who wanted to scream the most.

Inquisitors, by the nature of their profession, were trained to detect lies.

If his hand were held, lies would be deciphered through his pulse, faster and with more precision.

Unlike Ian, stunted from a lack of nourishment, Maria thrived on the Order’s diet, growing tall and strong.

Giving his hand, wrist and all, into her grasp, he had no chance to conceal his racing pulse.

“You really don’t have to, though.”

In the end, Ian could only reveal half of his true feelings, mixed as they were.

“I wouldn’t want my childish whims to make things difficult or troublesome for anyone.”

An Inquisitor doing their best was a frightening thing.

He didn’t want Teresa Clan to suffer because of him.

To Maria, who couldn’t discern which words were directed at her and which weren’t, it only amplified the misunderstanding.

A frail and virtuous young boy, worrying about her, asking her not to overexert herself with kind words.

Something that shouldn’t rise within her heart lurched to its feet, and her heart pounded.

Afraid that her own pulse would betray her, Maria quickly released his hand.

“Is, is that so?”

The adventurers within the guild, as if watching a youthful romance novel unfold, were practically dying from the saccharine sweetness, tapping their feet and fidgeting with their hands.

“Ugh, this is good but so frustrating.”

“Why doesn’t he just propose already?”

“That’s why you’re a virgin, you idiot.”

“Hey!”

“I bet you’re already seeing grandchildren in your head?”

The female adventurers, stung, suffered collateral damage, writhing in agony, while a crisis unfolded.

No sooner had the bell of the entrance door rung than Yuz, almost rolling, hurtled to the reception desk.

Having made the most of her former life as a messenger, she grabbed Ian’s wrist, breathless from her frantic run.

A tremor.

Maria’s rage surged to her head.

To grab the Saint’s delicate arm so roughly!

Something she herself had only imagined doing.

Who was this woman, popping up from nowhere to do such a thing?

Outrageous.

And enviable.

In the instant she was about to cloak her jealousy in anger and express it, Ian calmed Yuz with a question.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Shoa’s seizure has started. And it won’t subside.”

“Let’s go immediately.”

Ian acted with an eagerness that startled even Yuz.

Lunchtime.

Most adventurers were out on quests, not due back at the guild.

There wasn’t a single valued adventurer possessing healing spells to quell Shoa’s seizure at the guild.

The only solution Ian could think of was one thing.

‘I have no choice but to subdue her with hypnosis.’

Shoa, suffering from a dangerous seizure where her muscles spasmed erratically, her abilities manifesting due to the side effects of those enhancement pills.

This month would be the crucible for her.

To endure, without another one of those life-sapping pills, until the last vestige of the drug that gnawed at her insides was gone.

Certainly not an easy thing.

Like all withdrawal symptoms from narcotics and doping agents, a cruel agony beyond the scope of mere human will.

“I will go with you.”

“…I cannot impose.”

“No. As a person of faith, I cannot ignore one who suffers.”

But there was a problem.

Inquisitor Maria had followed Ian, whom he had intended to use his mind control to soothe.

Now, to administer the treatment, he would have to risk activating his powers in front of an Inquisitor.

‘If I’m caught, I die right there.’

Shoa’s cure could very well lead to Ian’s demise.

Maria, the Inquisitor, was a thorn in his side.

Ian had found a new family.

A new little sister, even.

New nannies, governesses, and clan members.

A guild master eager to be a godfather.

Apprentices just getting used to the adventurer life.

He had to be prepared to sever all those connections.

‘Killing Maria would only bring an even stronger Inquisitor. So… I have to abandon Shoa to her pain.’

Then Ian could live.

He could maintain all the relationships he’d forged.

He would surely be happy.

The joyful days would continue.

So much to protect, if he only sacrificed one person.

“…Shoa. Can you hear me?”

“Ugh… I, Ian…”

Shoa, soaked in sweat like rain, turned her head.

“Go back… I’m, I’m alright… Hurry…!”

Unable to trust herself to control her body, Shoa clenched her teeth and curled into a ball.

The scales within Ian tilted as he watched her desperate struggle.

He was afraid to lose.

How could he not be afraid of being alone?

But what he truly feared was facing a life extinguished by his indifference.

‘I refuse to yield and say my wickedness, which twists the hearts of men, is less than the wickedness of an Inquisitor who cannot tolerate the existence of heresy.’

Ian went behind Shoa, who was cowering in fear of harming him, and embraced her from behind.

He was a mind manipulator.

A deceiver who twisted and controlled the hearts of men.

Using this wicked power, he would…

[Mind Control Activated]

[Designated Subject – Shoah]

[Command – I will stay by your side until the pain subsides.]

Not to leave Shoah’s side until her agony was spent.

Not to be abandoned.

She would not be alone.

He instilled that certainty within her.

Shoah gritted her teeth.

If she couldn’t quell the withdrawal, Ian wouldn’t leave.

To avoid hurting him, she had no choice but to control herself.

Clinging to a will that threatened to break.

Clinging to a consciousness that was fading.

But the stronger Shoah’s awareness became, the more violent her body’s convulsions grew.

“Run. Quickly. You’ll get hurt.”

“It’s alright, I’m fine.”

Even when struck in the ribs by a muscle that spasmed violently, Ian didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, though his face was etched with pain.

Seeing his tenaciousness, Maria joined him, holding Shoah down.

“We will help hold her.”

The warmth and feel of the small boy, clinging tightly even as he was pushed back by the heaving muscles of her back.

And the unwavering strength from the Inquisitor’s hands, the comfort of knowing he would protect Ian, even if muscles strained and bulged at his own expense.

Amidst these influences, Shoah’s heart gradually eased, and her convulsions slowly subsided.

“That was dangerous.”

“I know.”

“Your mother will be angry.”

“And proud, I imagine.”

At the unwavering stubbornness that refused to bend or yield when faced with doing what was right, Shoah gave a faint smile and drifted to sleep.

Freed from the torment, now at peace, she was able to relinquish her worries and sleep.

Maria, who had witnessed the entire sequence, spoke with a trembling voice.

“Ian, you are…”

Ian tensed.

Had the Inquisitor discerned his brainwashing?

Or had she remained oblivious?

“To heal a person’s afflicted mind and body without mastering Holy Orders… you are truly a natural-born Saint!”

Maria hadn’t noticed.

The fact that Ian was a brainwasher.

That he had used the power of a wicked mind manipulator.

At the same time, Ian, too, remained unaware.

Of just how resolute he had appeared, prepared even for death should his true nature be exposed.

Of how perilous his actions had seemed, clinging to Shoah’s back, repeatedly assuring her that he was alright.

Of how sublime he looked, braving the risk of being attacked by Shoah’s convulsing body.

Of how surprised Maria had been, as she helped restrain Shoah, when she noticed Shoah’s rigid muscles loosening and relaxing in real time, thanks to Ian’s embrace.

The immensity of a single person’s resolve, the act of saving another.

And the fact that a young girl’s first love for a noble, boyish saint only deepened.