Certainly, here’s the translation of the given passage:

Evie Ariate offered Zion various first experiences.

Threats, defeats, humiliations. Things like these.

If one more thing were to be added, it would be the first time he ever heard words like “I will protect you.”

So, did this novel experience make his mundane life even slightly enjoyable? That was not the case.

Protect, how dare you say that to someone.

Today, Evie Ariate suddenly came and spoke with an innocent face.

― “I bought this house. But don’t worry. I want to be friends with the Count.”

― “First, please never block my path again. Second, help me break the curse.”

― “If you grant these two requests, I will protect you, Count.”

If these words were meant to upset Zion, Evie brilliantly achieved her goal.

Not just words, Evie’s arrogant attitude twisted his mood.

Apparently, Evie Ariate believed that the suspension of the tower’s punishment was her complete victory.

But despite a significant sense of defeat, Zion did not acknowledge this as Evie’s victory.

Because half the reason Zion stopped Evie’s punishment was his own circumstances, and the other half was to protect Evie.

Zion’s declaration also cornered Evie, but that would soon fade with time.

But the curse was different. The moment it was exposed, it would pick Evie apart and permanently damage the comfortable life in Tienda that Evie Ariate so desired.

So, Zion offered even a piece of Amaneser to the tower master and neutralized Evie’s punishment.

This was also a significant humiliation for him, and with Evie Ariate who knew nothing about this coming fearlessly, it was absurd and contemptible.

‘…Perhaps she even calculated this.’

Suddenly, the suspicion made Zion more displeased.

It’s entirely possible.

For Evie Ariate, who had perfectly adapted to the filthy and just plain dirty Tienda society.

Zion, grinding his teeth, pondered Evie’s offer.

Objectively, the offer was not bad. Neither bending too much nor pressing too hard, it looked quite clever, seeking to reconcile.

But neither Zion nor Evie could make a valid offer to the other.

First and foremost, Zion was not the type to engage in deals.

Unlike the nobles who dominate just because they were born in Tienda, he saved Tiendabis from a mad dragon dozens of times over the past seven years.

Every living thing owed Zion Laurel their life, and so Zion was proud of everything.

He allowed everyone to leech off him, earning the right to prioritize his wishes, the right not to be thankful for anything, and the right not to be equal to others.

That might have been the only good thing he got from fighting with Amaneser for a lifetime.

But there was one flaw in this right.

The debt that man left behind. The debt that had to be repaid to Evie Ariate was the only flaw that held Zion’s ankle, and also another reason why Zion couldn’t accept Evie’s offer.

‘Should I trade again with a piece of Amaneser?’

There are still a few pieces of Amaneser’s scales left in the hall.

What if he hands them over to the tower master and demands the revocation of Evie Ariate’s candidacy as a saintess?

The Tienda nobles will chatter nonsense again, but who cares, he’s already considered a monster full of obsessions.

So their gazes aren’t a problem, but it would be annoying if the greedy Rohika Sedro noticed.

So Zion even thought of confining Evie Ariate.

Buying a jewelry boxlike house and keeping her confined carefully until the selection of the saintess is over…

“Teacher!”

Zion was having dangerous thoughts when he heard a familiar voice from behind.

Looking back, following the voice, he saw a small child with a bob haircut running up the hillside road, carrying a large basket.

It was Zion’s disciple, who had been swept away by poison fog last month.

At the appearance of his disciple, Zion sighed, lifting his torso that had been leaning against the fence.

He hated being disturbed during his alone time, but occasionally made exceptions for his student.

“Teacher was going home. Mom says this is for you.”

The little one held out the basket to Zion. Inside, there were cheap cheeses and fruits and the like.

It seemed like a token of gratitude for when Zion had brought them out of the fog last month.

Zion accepted the basket, slinging it over his arm. Then he broke an apple there in half, putting one part into his mouth and the other into his disciple’s.

The apples, harvested last winter, were already overripe and slightly mushy.

Though they would have been considered lowgrade enough to feed to a horse at the Tardes Hall, Zion chewed the bland flesh as if accustomed to it.

And his disciple naturally took his place beside him, sharing the apple.

This distance, unbreachable even to the deputy commander of the border, or even to the Grand Duke Laurel himself, was utterly unknown to the child.

“But what are you doing here, teacher?”

“I’m doing nothing.”

“I know that. Grownups who do nothing are thugs.”

A student who considered his teacher a thug; Zion had taught him very poorly.