Charles originally thought the issue with the spiderborn infant was settled, that matters had finally come to a close and he could return to his normal study and training.
But unexpectedly, in the afternoon as he was alone in the scriptorium, studying spells, Andny's familiar once again landed by his ear, voice full of urgent worry: "Master, please come quickly—Elise has a new symptom!"
After all that happened that morning, this girl had clearly already come to see Charles as someone all-powerful. Whatever happened, her first reaction was always to call on him for help.
Of course, Charles wasn't about to refuse. "Are you in your room? Wait for me, I'll be right there."
After replying, he closed his book, turned and left, and hurried to the doorway of Andny's room, pushing open the door to see the Insects Witch as always in her black nun's habit, but now cradling the infant swaddled in white in her arms, like a true Madonna full of compassion.
Although the baby's condition clearly looked worrying.
She was vomiting up milk.
Warm, white milk, coming out in small streams from her mouth, filling the air with a peculiar scent. The area around her mouth was stained white, and Andny, holding a handkerchief, was anxiously wiping her clean.
As she heard the creak of the door behind her, Andny turned back, looking at him with pitiful eyes. "Master..."
Charles instantly understood the problem. He quickly walked over and frowned. "She can't keep anything down?"
"No." Andny shook her head. "No matter what I feed her, she throws it up—cow's milk, goat's milk, all of it, as soon as she takes it. Her constitution is just too poor. I really don't know what she can possibly eat…"
As she spoke, the baby in her arms had already spat up nearly all of the milk she'd just drank, then wrinkled her brow, opened her mouth, and let out an ear-piercing wail.
Andny looked at Charles in desperation. He frowned as well, forcing himself to endure the crying, and suddenly said, "Maybe human milk would work."
Andny blinked. "Eh? But… where would we find…"
Charles reached over, gently caressing Elise's head through the swaddle, trying to soothe her, but the little one just cried even louder.
He scowled, then abruptly suggested, "Why not try letting her nurse from you?"
Andny immediately looked confused. "Me… but I have nothing…"
She looked down at her own flat chest, a wave of deep inferiority overwhelming her.
Was there any way to make her figure a bit fuller?
She recalled noticing Sephera drinking cow's milk lately—maybe that's helpful?
Her mind wandered in confusion, while Charles, listening to Elise's continuous cries, grew more irritable. "Just give it a try—at least put something in her mouth so she'll stop this racket!"
As a human, some instincts were embedded in his very bones: for example, hearing a baby crying made him nervous, driving him to try anything to calm the child.
Andny clearly didn't have this instinct. Only after Charles pointed it out did she finally realize how grating such crying really was.
She agreed softly, then, cradling the little girl in one arm, used her other hand to deftly unfasten her nun's habit, revealing her modest, petite chest. She pressed the baby to one side—
And as if guided by instinct, the instant Elise's lips brushed Andny's pink nipple, she opened her mouth and latched on.
"Ah—!" Andny couldn't help but gasp, feeling a tremendous sucking force, an indescribable sensation shooting through her mind, making her reflexively clamp her legs together as the other nipple tingled with blood.
Charles observed Elise's movements. Infant bodies are completely designed for nursing; every structure made for sucking milk. You could see clearly—fists clenched, legs tucked in, mouth locked around Andny's nipple, she worked with all her strength, desperately trying to nurse at the Insects Witch's chest.
There was no doubt she was truly hungry. Unfortunately, no matter how much effort Elise put in, nothing would come out. She simply could not extract a single drop of milk.
"Master…"
Andny looked up at him, tears in her eyes, caught between deep wronged anguish and a shuddering pleasure. "She's stopped crying… but what now? I just don't have… I can't feed her."
Charles finally let out a sigh of relief and said, "Human milk should work—you just keep holding her like this. I'll go find someone who actually has milk to help you!"
With that, he turned and hurried out. Andny, eyes brimming with tears, called after him in a faint, coquettish voice, "Hurry, Master, she's already started licking…"
Charles waved behind him, signaling that he'd heard, and picked up his pace, heading straight to the tailor's shop.
Naturally, he was looking for Malena.
It just so happened to be a work day. When Charles pushed open the door he saw Malena, behind the sewing machine, working quietly alone.
She was wearing a gray knit sweater over her ample chest, soft black fleece-lined stockings, and flats—nice and warm.
At that moment, she'd slipped her feet from her shoes to rest them, and a thought struck Charles: perhaps if the tailor's shop produced more high-heeled shoes, it could open up another profitable line?
Maybe not a fortune, but at least a bit of extra income.
As this thought drifted through his mind, Malena, noticing his gaze lingering on her legs wrapped in black stockings, gave a subtle smile, shifted her posture, and crossed her shapely calves so the soles and arches of her bare feet were nicely exposed for his appreciation.
At the same time, she spoke, her tone perfectly proper: "Is there something you need from me, Priest?"
He hadn't visited Malena since his return, so seeing him now, there was an unmistakable heat building inside her.
Charles quickly pulled his gaze back, took a deep breath, reminding himself of his urgent purpose for coming, and tamped down the flames in his heart.
"Oh, yes… I do need your help with something." He scratched his head a bit sheepishly. "Uh… our monastery recently took in an infant girl, but her body is far too weak…"
"She can't tolerate milk—cow or goat, both come right back up. We thought maybe only human milk would help…"
He forced himself past the awkwardness, fixing Malena with as sincere a look as he could manage: "So, could you do us this favor?"
Malena smiled at once. "Of course, dear Priest. But I haven't finished work yet…"
"Work can wait," Charles said—after all, as the greatest benefactor of the monastery, he had the power to excuse her. "The baby's really in trouble—it'd be a big help if you could come now."
Malena didn't refuse. "All right."
She slipped on her shoes, pulled her brown coat from a peg on the wall, draped it over her shoulders, and followed Charles out.
Together they hurried back to Andny's room, where the girl still sat with her nun's habit half-undone, holding Elise to her chest, frowning in concentration, sweat beading on her brow, silently bearing the desire aroused by that strange sensation.
Charles paused, then turned away—deliberately keeping a respectful distance. "Please go ahead, Madam Malena. I'll excuse myself."
When alone with Andny or Malena individually, he could act naturally enough. But with both present, a certain line still couldn't be crossed.
There was, after all, still one last layer of the window yet unbroken—and he was in no rush to shatter it.
Malena glanced curiously between him and Andny, but said nothing, responding gently and stepping in, closing the door behind her.
Charles waited outside. In a short while, Malena emerged again, her cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow—clearly, this had been a test for her as well.
She couldn't help shooting him a glare—the kind that can ignite desire with a single glance from a beautiful woman.
Charles tamped down the urge, stepped forward, and asked, "Did it work?"
"Yes. The little girl fell asleep, and didn't spit up this time." Malena said, "For a baby this small, only mother's milk will do."
Charles let out a long breath. "Thank you so much… We may have to rely on you for a while…"
His expression was a bit apologetic. But Malena just smiled softly. "Of course, it's the least I can do."
2 gold a day, 60 gold a month—by any measure, a textile worker shouldn't earn that much.
That was the wages of senior blacksmiths and shipwrights—Malena was well aware, and deeply grateful. She would do anything for him.
Though, looking at Charles's fair face, her heart pounded even harder.
"But, I do have a request." She went on. "Next time you need milk, why not bring her to my home?"
"It's… not so easy in front of the other nuns—I'd feel too self-conscious."
It was a feeble excuse. Charles thought—so in front of the other women you're shy, but alone with me you're fine?
Malena, you could easily just express some milk for Andny to take, no need for me to bring the baby in person…
Still, he understood her motives, and wasn't about to expose them. Nodding seriously, he replied, "Of course. I'll bring her over, then."
The corners of Malena's mouth curled up in a most enchanting smile.
...
That evening.
Cradling the still-sleeping Elise, Charles knocked gently at Malena's door. As hurried footsteps approached, the door opened to reveal Lisa, in pajamas, her blonde hair still damp. Without a word, she raced over and hugged his thigh. "Priest!"
Her voice was pure joy. Charles smiled, reaching down to pat her head, softly reminding her, "Lisa, next time you hear someone knocking, always ask who it is first. Don't open the door to just anyone—it's not safe."
"I know!" the little girl nodded vigorously. "But I recognized your footsteps, Priest, so I ran right over!"
With that, she buried her face against his waist, rubbing wildly.
A moment later, Malena also came from the back, dressed in a purple pajama that left her full figure almost bare, her hair still wet from a recent bath. With nights dark and entertainment scarce, people usually bathed and slept early.
Seeing it was Charles, Malena's smile bloomed like spring. "Priest? Come in, please! Let me take the baby—Lisa, let go so Priest can come in."
She stretched out her arms, taking Elise from Charles. Lisa reluctantly let go, but at once grabbed his hand—acting just like a little sister.
At that moment, she finally realized what Charles had been holding. She cocked her head, eyes full of curiosity. "Is she… Priest, is she your daughter?"
Charles shook his head as he walked inside. "No, she's an abandoned baby we found. Her name is Elise, and after studying things over, the nuns decided she should have my surname—Charles."
After stepping into the living room, he sat down on a chair without hesitation. Lisa closed the door and, even more unreservedly, climbed onto his lap, hugging his waist and gazing up at him. "So… she came for Mama's milk?"
Charles fought through the awkwardness. "There's no other way—she's only just been born, and really can't take animal milk…"
Lisa's eyes sparkled as she stared at Elise's round face. Suddenly she piped up, "Priest, are you a noble too? 'Charles'—that sounds so dignified!"
Over on another chair, Malena had lifted her pajamas to nurse the child. At the mention, she frowned. "Lisa!"
Lisa burrowed her head into Charles's belly, curling up in his lap. Charles gently squeezed her soft back through the fabric, smiling. "It's nothing."
He gave her a playful pinch through the pajamas. "I'm not. My father was a regular soldier from Sein, my mother too. Charles is a very common name in Sein."
Then he suddenly thought of something, and laughed. "Still, the Empire of Sein is so old—if you traced back a few thousand years, maybe 'Charles' was once a noble family!"
The Empire of Sein traced its founding to the Green Emperor (a legendary aasimar) and the Silver Emperor (an ancient silver dragon), but for thousands of years afterward, the throne rotated among many families—no one family held power for long.
So in fact, any surname, traced back for a few centuries or millennia, would likely find distinguished ancestors, or at least some romantic brush with the extraordinary.
In other words—anyone could become a warlock.
Charles didn't know of anyone notable with his surname in the game, but if he checked far enough, he was sure some supernatural ancestor could be found.
Anyway, he didn't make any bold claims.
But Lisa's imagination filled in the blanks at once. "So that's it—Priest Charles, is your family just like ours? Once noble, but ruined by slander?"
Charles smiled, hugging her and tapping her dainty nose with his fingertip. "Maybe so. Who knows?"
Lisa adjusted herself so he could tap her nose whenever he wished, and went on, "Those nobles slandered us just to steal our inheritance. It's so evil!"
"I'll study hard and train hard and get strong like you, Priest, and beat them all!"
The young Divine Soul Warlock balled her fist in a solemn oath, her eyes shining with hope—or perhaps a silent birthday wish.
Charles, thinking of his own powers' mysterious origin, could only nod very guiltily. "Yes. With hard work, you too can become strong like me!"
Meanwhile, Malena, breasts bared as she nursed Elise, spoke up with a frown, "Lisa, don't talk like that."
Then her expression softened and she turned to Charles. "Honestly… it's all in the past. There's no need to take any more risks for it."
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