Ibi Ariate gave Sion various first experiences.

Threats, defeat, humiliation. Things like that.

To add one more, it was also the first time in his life that he heard words like “I’ll protect you.”

So if you asked whether this novel experience made his boring life even a little bit pleasant, the answer would be no.

Protect him? Who dares.

Today, Ibi Ariate suddenly came and said with an innocent face:

“I bought this house. But don’t worry. I want to be on good terms with you, Count.”

“First, please don’t block my path again. Second, please help me break the curse.”

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

If these words were meant to upset Sion, then Ibi had brilliantly achieved her goal.

Not just the words, but Ibi’s triumphant attitude also thoroughly twisted his mood.

It seemed Ibi Ariate believed the suspension of the Tower’s punishment was her complete victory.

However, despite feeling considerable defeat, Sion did not acknowledge this as Ibi’s victory.

Because half the reason Sion stopped Ibi’s punishment was for his own circumstances, but the other half was to protect Ibi.

Sion’s declaration also cornered Ibi, but that would quickly dilute with time.

But the curse was different. The moment it was exposed, everything about Ibi would be thoroughly unraveled, permanently harming the comfortable life in Tienda that Ibi Ariate so desperately wanted.

So Sion offered even a piece of Amanecere to the Tower Lord to nullify Ibi’s punishment.

This too was quite humiliating for him, and Ibi Ariate, completely unaware of this, shamelessly came to butter him up, which left him dumbfounded and indignant.

“…Perhaps she calculated even that.”

This sudden suspicion made Sion even more displeased.

It’s entirely possible.

If it’s Ibi Ariate who has perfectly adapted to Tienda’s disgustingly conservative and just plain dirty social circles.

Sion pondered Ibi’s proposal, gritting his teeth.

Objectively, the proposal wasn’t bad. It was quite clever, neither bending too much nor pressing too hard, maintaining a posture of seeking reconciliation appropriately.

But neither Sion nor Ibi could make a valid proposal to the other.

Sion, like Ibi had done, had no intention of accepting the other’s proposal.

First of all, Sion wasn’t the type to agree to deals.

Unlike the nobles who ruled simply because they were born in Tienda, he had saved Tiendabis from the mad dragon dozens of times over the past 7 years.

Every living thing owed their life to Sion Laurel exactly that many times, and so Sion was proud of everything.

He gained the right to prioritize his will, the right not to be grateful for anything, and the right not to be equal to others by allowing everyone to depend on him.

That was the only good thing he gained through the damned fate of having to fight Amanecere for a lifetime.

But there was one flaw in this right.

The debt that man left behind. That debt to be repaid to Ibi Ariate was the only flaw holding Sion back, and at the same time another reason why Sion couldn’t accept Ibi’s proposal.

‘Should I try to negotiate again with a piece of Amanecere?’

There are still a few pieces of Amanecere’s scales left in the pawnshop.

What if he handed these over to the Tower Lord and demanded the revocation of Ibi Ariate’s holy maiden candidate qualification?

The Tienda nobles would spout nonsense again, but who cares, he’s already known as a monster full of obsession.

So the nobles’ gaze isn’t a problem, but if the greedy Rohika Sedro catches on unnecessarily, that would be annoying too.

So Sion’s thoughts went as far as considering imprisoning Ibi Ariate.

Buying a house like a jewel box and keeping her locked up nicely until the holy maiden selection ceremony is over…

“Teacher!”

It was when Sion was having these dangerous thoughts. A familiar voice was heard from behind.

Looking back at the voice, a small short-haired child was running up the hill road carrying a large basket.

It was Sion’s disciple who had been engulfed in the poison fog last new moon.

At the disciple’s appearance, Sion sighed and raised his upper body that had been leaning on the fence.

He greatly disliked having his alone time disturbed, but students were sometimes an exception.

“I was going to your house, Teacher. Mom told me to give this to you.”

The child showed Sion the basket she was holding. Inside were cheap cheese and fruits and such.

It seemed to be a token of gratitude for Sion clearing the fog and rescuing them last new moon.

Sion took the basket and hung it on his arm. Then he split an apple that was in it in half, put one half in his mouth and pushed the other half into his disciple’s mouth.

The apple harvested last winter was already past its prime and had withered to be powdery.

It was cheap stuff that would only be fed to horses in Tardes Manor, but Sion chewed the astringent flesh as if used to it.

And his disciple naturally took the seat next to her teacher and munched on the apple together.

Completely unaware that this distance was one that neither the Vice Commander of the Border Guard nor even the Grand Duke Laurel could enter.

“But Teacher, what are you doing here?”

“Nothing.”

“I know that. Adults who do nothing are bums.”

A student calling her teacher a bum, he must have taught her very wrong.

But instead of saying anything, Sion took out the cheese from the basket and gave it to his disciple who had already finished half the apple.

“Teacher, I have a concern.”

“Not interested.”

“There’s someone I want to marry, but there are too many mountains to climb.”

Despite the ill-tempered teacher’s rejection, the disciple stubbornly continued. So Sion let out a long sigh.

The age of this disciple who was trying to discuss lifelong marriage with a serious face was nine this year.

It’s an open secret that this little one, who still has a single-digit age, has decided to marry her teacher.

Sion thought that this kid had finally decided to put her plan into action, and pondered how to effectively shatter this vain delusion.

And the child, completely unaware of her teacher’s thoughts, said seriously:

“How can I marry the holy sister?”

This traitor.

Sion looked at his ungrateful disciple with an apple in his mouth.

But that child chattered on about how to get to Tienda, if girls can marry each other too, without a hint of lingering affection for her old love.

Then she also spoke earnestly about why she decided to get married.

The holy sister is pretty and kind. She saved our family.

“And she’s honest too!”

Sion was letting his disciple’s praise of Ibi Ariate go in one ear and out the other, but he coldly sneered at that last remark.

Honest? Where exactly?

Sion wanted to teach his disciple that Ibi Ariate was a person riddled with pretense.

Then he recalled the conversation between this kid and Ibi Ariate and stopped laughing.

“Sister, do you like our teacher too?”

“No, I really don’t like your teacher.”

He just found it absurd at the time, but thinking back, this too was Ibi’s firm sincerity.

So Sion felt somehow displeased.

Of course, considering what happened, it’s natural for Ibi to dislike him.

Moreover, unlike Sion who has been conscious of Ibi Ariate’s existence for years, to Ibi, Sion Laurel is just an uninvited guest who suddenly appeared and interfered with her mundane future.

So it’s not strange at all that that firm expression of dislike is Ibi’s true feelings, but Sion was inwardly disgruntled.

So he fixed his gaze back on the swaying rye field, just as he had done before his disciple appeared.

The scenery of the village bordering the rye field was peaceful. Beyond the rye field was an orchard, and behind that, sheep were leisurely grouped in the wide fields visible.

It was a good village on the outskirts of Bis that had everything it should. Befitting a village that man had chosen for Ibi Ariate.

It’s already been almost 2 years since Sion came here, tracing their footsteps.

When he first came, he didn’t intend to stay this long, but somehow it naturally became home.

So now he was thinking that he should finally wrap up his life here.

Various annoying things had happened due to Ibi Ariate’s intrusion, and above all, he wasn’t the type to behave docilely after having his weakness caught.

Unaware of her teacher’s such worries, the disciple who was playing around hanging on the railing shouted towards the village.

“Ah, it’s the whale flag!”

At the entrance to the village the child pointed at, a large flag was fluttering. It was the flag of Bayen’s army stationed in the village.

That was also one of the reasons why Sion was thinking of moving out.

Bayen’s army dispatched an investigation team to examine the unusual curse that occurred in this village last new moon.

It’s not like this just happened yesterday or today, but they ignored this remote countryside village until now, and only when Tienda’s attention was drawn because of Ibi Ariate did they belatedly rush over pretending to work.

“The uncles were saying that we might have to move our village.”

The child said in a gloomy voice, resting her chin on the fence.

“They say the big curse this time came out because our village hid livestock in the mountains. So they’re going to empty the village to prevent more problems.”

Sion swallowed another sigh at the child’s worried words.

As expected, those incompetent ones chose the easy way.

Having neither the ability to investigate the cause of the situation nor the will to prepare for the next new moon, they just intend to erase the problem by emptying the village.

It seems it’s indeed time to leave this village.

Sion suppressed his pathetic feelings and strengthened his resolve.

As he feared, Ibi Ariate spectacularly destroyed Sion’s daily life just by existing.

But he has no intention of resenting her.

Sion Laurel has the right to prioritize his will, the right not to be grateful for anything, and the right not to be equal to others.

In other words, it is the right to be separated from everything, and the right not to be connected to others.

Sion is a person who desires such a state, and feeling attachment to a village like this was against that desire.

So he decided to be satisfied that an opportunity to leave had arisen.

Of course, before that, he should mock Ibi Ariate’s statement about protecting him.

“If we move, where do we go? Will all the villagers separate?”

“You probably won’t separate.”

Sion answered his disciple’s concern indifferently. It wasn’t empty consolation, but sincere.

Some with money might move to other villages, but the familiar neighbors of this village with similar circumstances will all be pushed to more barren land together.

And there they’ll have to reclaim the village while enduring all sorts of hardships, so at least they won’t separate.

When Sion spoke as if it was someone else’s story, the child asked pleadingly:

“Then what about you, Teacher? You’ll come with us too, right?”

That wasn’t a question, but a confirmation.

The child believed that of course the teacher would come along too.

At that pure gaze, Sion was at a loss for words. He tried to answer frankly as usual, but somehow found it difficult to open his mouth.

So Sion put the remaining apple in his hand to his mouth, avoiding his disciple’s question for the first time.