"Wait, what about the clothes?"
As the blood potion was about to enter his mouth, Nol tried to struggle. "There's no need to drink it now, is there?"
Painter grinned, flashing his teeth. "I've asked Miss Anakin for help, and she was more than willing. She can purchase it directly from the system and insisted on not taking any money for it. It's just…"
"Just what?" Nol suddenly had a bad feeling.
"She's very curious and hopes we can take a picture and leave it on a recording crystal. I agreed."
"..." As expected from a young woman from Earth. Nol had nothing to say.
He grimaced, twisted open the cap, and downed the contents of the bottle. It smelled like a Nightmare but tasted of nothing. Nol suspected Fischer had added something to it because his tongue felt slightly numb.
With system restrictions, Fischer couldn't harm Teest or "Teest's teammates". After the battle with the Demon King, this High Priest's attitude subtly changed, possibly related to Teest's "Transcendence of the Law".
As Nol's thoughts wandered, he felt his joints heat up. His muscles ached, his bones cracked, and he felt the discomfort of a high fever. His vision dimmed, and his body felt lighter, but only slightly.
Nol groggily pinched his arm.
As for the effects of the blood potion, he should have reverted to seventeen years old. Nol, who matured late, was around 1.75 meters at seventeen, slowly surpassing 1.8 meters in his early twenties.
His current physique was about the same as he remembered… Fortunately, women on Tahe were generally not short, so a 1.75-meter-tall girl was considered above average. It wouldn't be too conspicuous.
Nol tugged at his slightly oversized cloak and looked at Teest, bursting into laughter.
Teest drank his potion even more straightforwardly than Nol.
However, the originally tall Mad Monk was only about 1.65 meters at "eighteen years old", not even as tall as Fischer.
At that time, Teest's features hadn't fully developed, lacking his usual mature and handsome appearance, more youthful and delicate. He looked much smaller and as thin as Nol, a mage, completely resembling a high school student.
No wonder the Mad Monk had limited options when he disguised himself as a maid to approach his target.
Teest crushed the bottle into powder, awkwardly lifted his gaze, and scrutinized Nol. Nol returned the look with intense curiosity, examining the young Mad Monk from head to toe.
Teest touched his now diminished chest and abdomen muscles with a hint of melancholy on his face.
"Cough cough cough cough!" Painter let out a series of coughs, trying to suppress his laughter. He took out the clothes he had prepared and distributed them to the three others with a twisted face. "Perfect, just as I predicted."
Surrounded by three "young" faces, Painter suddenly exuded a headmaster-like aura. "Hurry up and change. We don't have much time."
Fischer nodded comfortably and took the clothes behind a rock. Nol casually waved his hand, and sand and rocks rose, separating them from Painter.
As for himself and Teest… They had done everything that needed to be done and seen everything that needed to be seen. It felt awkward to separate them specifically. But still feeling a bit shy, Nol decided to turn his back to change.
After spreading out the clothes, he felt a bit more at ease.
Painter's set included a robe, a headscarf, an undershirt, a set of underwear, and plain black boots.
The former Pope's suggestion wasn't exactly in bad taste—the attire of the Evergreen Nun was quite conservative, with the robe's high collar and loose fit perfectly concealing male features like the Adam's apple, shoulders, and hips.
It didn't have a particularly body-hugging cut. The robe's hem reached almost to the ankles, only cinched at the waist, giving off a solemn and imposing air. The black garment had an olivine brooch at the chest, beneath which a delicate emblem of the Goddess of Life was visible, with simple gold thread embroidery as an accent.
The inner shirt and underwear were also very ordinary, even unisex in design. Their practical, simple style far outweighed any "decorative" aspects. Nol treated it as if he were putting on armor, without feeling much embarrassment.
He restored his eye color, shedding "Drake's" light golden locks for his natural black hair, the length resting around his collarbone. Anyone looking wouldn't associate this "nun" with the hero Drake.
Unsure about the suitability of his face, Nol turned around, intending to consult Teest, who was close at hand.
Upon seeing each other clearly for the first time, both paused for a moment.
Teest appeared to have more experience with disguises. He dyed his long hair a brilliant, dense gold, and it was unclear what he had stuffed inside his bra. Coupled with his more youthful features, the Mad Monk looked unmistakably like a well-developed teenage girl.
Nol's mood was incredibly complex. When he was seventeen or eighteen, he indeed preferred this type.
If a god had told him back then, "Look, this is the love you will meet in the future," he would have woken up laughing from the dream. As for reality… it wasn't that he was dissatisfied. Something just felt off…
Teest also looked at Nol with some surprise.
Nol's features were already soft, and dressed like this, he really resembled a beautiful, androgynous girl. A bit of makeup would make it hard even for him to spot any flaws.
To be fair, Teest had seen many beautiful women, but he had never found such… attraction in them. However, seeing Mr. Nol in that outfit, it even made the Temple of Life's nun attire no longer look like an eyesore.
Teest's gaze swept over Nol repeatedly, causing Nol's face to gradually redden. He awkwardly cleared his throat. "What did you stuff in your chest?"
"My balls of golden thread, healing potions, and poison powder."
Teest pressed his chest, somehow altering his voice to a slightly deeper female tone. He approached Nol, his movements gracefully restrained, like a well-educated noble descendant.
Nol's already flushed face turned even redder as he quickly looked down at the tips of his black boots. "We should go out now."
"Ah, you just had a bit of a Demon King look, but this won't do."
Teest naturally reached out, playing with Nol's black hair tips. His fingertips brushed Nol's flushed face, feeling the heat.
Can a Dracolich also be this warm?
He had been close to Nol before, but now it felt different… He had dominated the warm body beneath the fabric, remembered Nol's rapid breathing, and the delicate touch of moist skin.
Not only did this not satisfy him, but it also made him more curious. A shiver ran up his neck as Teest felt a prickly warmth on his cheeks.
"You're truly too noble. With your current abilities, you could think of a way; to carve a path of blood…"
Teest's lips neared Nol's face, almost feeling the warmth on his skin. He wasn't quite sure what he was saying. He just wanted to get a little closer.
Just a bit closer.
Reality pulled Nol's rationality back. "No, I must consider the position of Paradise."
"And my health is too low. This battle was purely luck… If I encounter a long-range attack that ignores defense, I'm still at a great disadvantage."
His current stats might allow him to dominate all of Tahe, but his weaknesses were glaringly obvious.
Usually, a Demon King came with tens of millions of health points, so a few hits that ignored defense were negligible. But not for him; his low health could easily lead to his downfall.
The new Demon King wasn't ready for high-profile actions, Nol thought bitterly. They were both suspected of becoming False Gods, yet his "Physical Destruction" curse was still as persistent as gum on the bottom of a shoe.
It would be great if he could remove the curse. Perhaps the dragons had relevant knowledge…
Teest sighed, his lips barely touching Nol's cheek. "If that's what you wish."
Then, he boldly grabbed Nol's wrist and pulled him out from behind the curtain of sand and stone.
On the other side, Fischer and Painter had also finished dressing.
Fischer didn't put much effort into it. His physique was already lanky, and his features were at best considered delicate. Now, with medium-length curly hair, he looked like an ordinary girl.
Painter, however, was quite a surprise—he had somehow shortened his height to under 1.7 meters. His face now sported small round glasses and a noticeable hooked nose. His scattered red hair had turned into a tight gray-black bun.
The former Pope's entire face was unrecognizably that of a strict, severe nun in her fifties or sixties.
"You two can have a good laugh. This is but a little trick from a fugitive." Painter's voice was completely feminine, exuding a lively pride and dignity. "You two are even more suitable than I imagined. This will definitely work!"
Noticing Nol's shocked and curious gaze, Painter straightened his knees, stretched his body, and suddenly appeared taller. Then, he bent his legs and body again, letting the loose nun's attire hide everything. Visually, he appeared smaller, as if by magic.
"This is really…" Nol couldn't help but exclaim.
He had his suspicions before. Compared to the Mad Monk with an unclear appearance and background, Painter should have been easier to capture. No wonder the Temple of Life could never catch this former Pope. Nol suspected this guy could disguise himself as anyone.
"We'd better head north within half a day, entering the northern region of Shiva. The Temple of Life's infiltration isn't strong there, and it would be difficult for the Temple to quickly assemble forces." Fischer stepped forward, staring intently at Teest, his tone unusually earnest.
Teest glanced at the overly solicitous Fischer. "…Stay away from me."
"Yes, my God."
"Don't call me 'my God'," Teest said, displeased.
"Yes, Master."
"'Master' won't do either, 'Lord' is enough." Teest sneakily glanced at Nol, not wanting to share the title of "Master" with others. "What's gotten into you lately—had an epiphany?"
"What I believe in is darkness and destruction," Fischer said with devotion. "Only by feeling your presence up close did I come to the realization that the gaze of Anstis is nothing but falsehood. Its essence is too mixed, nowhere near as pure and moving as yours…"
By Fischer's side, Painter pointed to his head, made a cross with his two index fingers, and then shook his head with a look of regret, as if to say, "This guy is out of his mind."
Unusually, Teest didn't argue with his view. His face only showed plain disdain.
Nol decided to enjoy the show.
Whether it was the system's influence or Fischer's faith had really taken a sharp turn, the current Fischer was quite useful, and that was enough—previously, if they had asked him to lead the way to Ice Rock City, this guy could cry his nose off.
"Right."
Painter brushed Fischer aside, ruthlessly interrupting his praise. "Everyone, think of a new name for yourselves. If we encounter any inquiries later, try to speak less, and I'll handle it… Teesti doesn't need to think. Yes, I still remember your name, Mr. Maid."
Teest: "..."
Teest habitually went to put his arm around Nol's shoulder, miserably choosing the wrong spot. He had to settle for the next best thing and grabbed Nol's waist instead. "Then he can be called 'Noli'."
Nol: "…That's fine."
It didn't have to be a couple's nickname. His playful spirit died before it even ignited. But Noli was easy to remember, so that's settled.
"Fischer," Fischer said nonchalantly.
"When the time comes, you all should call me… Mrs. Holly." Painter nodded.
"Since we're short on time, shall we fly there?" Nol touched his shoulder. Since the two already knew his Dracolich appearance, they might as well fly. Wings are great. He wondered if his dragon form would change in this state.
"No, the sky is definitely being watched." Teest touched his chin. "Ben!"
Poor Abandon didn't know there was someone lying down even more flat than him on this journey—a nose peeked out from Nol's shadow, sniffing cautiously before slowly emerging.
The shadow wolf wagged its drooping tail, happily circling between Teest and Nol. Realizing the deserted island had no food, its fluffy tail gradually stopped wagging.
For the first time, Nol truly felt the growth of his stats—the shadow wolf that nearly drove them to a dead end initially now seemed as harmless as a puppy.
"We'll ride this," Teest said. "Of course, I mean Nol and me. You two figure it out on your own."
"Easy, we'll just borrow your force." Painter grinned, pulling out a rope. "There's plenty of wood in Brick Shadow. You two wouldn't mind letting this… um, Mr. Wolf pull a sled, right?"
...
On the eastern side of the Brick Mountains, Amazon's camp.
"What do you mean by this?" Behind the mask, Dorothy narrowed her eyes at Golden Sword Billy.
This Golden Sword abruptly visited, and with a wave of his hand, he gifted the Saints Guild and Amazon countless resources—including expensive purification potions and holy attribute magic items.
"My apologies for last time. This is the Alva Merchant Group's compensation to you all," Billy said earnestly. "The person in charge of Roundheart City lacked experience, thinking it easier to relate as 'Players'… I'm truly sorry."
Dorothy felt weary. That kid Barto really was a blabbermouth, likely spilling everything once he got back. This was entirely unsurprising.
"Thank you for the Alva Merchant Group's generosity." Dorothy interlaced her fingers, continuing in a grave tone, "But I can't accept them as mere gifts of gratitude. Our disagreement wasn't to that extent—just like a person of your stature personally coming here isn't just to wipe Barto's ass."
The Alva Merchant Group's move was quite interesting.
If what Barto said was true—Amazon rushing to the mountains for a rescue and encountering danger—then the Golden Sword arriving with elites could potentially save the high-ranking members of Amazon and the Saints Guild… That would be a huge favor.
If Amazon hadn't gone into the mountains, the Alva Merchant Group could still meet Dorothy under the pretext of "apologizing" and offer a batch of supplies that would be needed for rescue—Players couldn't die, and no matter how calm Amazon was, they wouldn't just retreat without trying. Human lives were at stake—they couldn't possibly refuse this help.
In any case, Amazon was bound to owe a favor, which somewhat displeased Dorothy as she clenched her teacup.
"Talking to you is truly easy." Billy laughed. "As businessmen, we inevitably have our little wishes… We hope to assist you in finding the hero before the Temple does."
Next to Dorothy, Anakin's hand holding a teacup paused.
Why would the Alva Merchant Group want to get involved with anything related to the Demon King?
"I've heard a bit of a rumor. The ancient Demon King has been laid to rest." Billy smiled sincerely. "I've heard that among that Hero's party, there are Players like you… The Temple wouldn't offend you, but they will search thoroughly for others—you understand my meaning."
Across from Anakin, Hot Ash frowned.
Damn, the Alva Merchant Group is too well-informed. They had just come out, and this guy had already investigated to this extent? …Dorothy was right. This world is still dangerous.
His mind finally cooled from the excitement of "being able to go home", his helmet hiding his wary gaze.
"Everyone wants to add a feather to their cap*. The Temple's actions are understandable." Dorothy replied with a polite smile.
*(脸上贴金) Idiom referring to embellishing the portrayal of oneself (AKA tooting one's own horn).
"Huh…" Hot Ash finally joined the conversation. "No, I think Mr. Golden Sword means if the Temple finds those people first, it will be hard for us to get in touch with them."
No matter how clever Dorothy was, Amazon didn't understand the Temple of Life as well as the Saints Guild did.
"If among those people there were Chosen Ones by the Temple of Life, they would have announced it by now. But they haven't done so… The Temple's attitude towards those NPCs, um, locals, might not be positive."
Hot Ash spoke bitterly. Not to mention those NPCs, the Temple wasn't fully open even to them, the "Saints".
Once found by the Temple, those individuals would, without a doubt, be taken to Bissus the Holy Land.
From a Player's perspective, mainline NPCs were crucial. To defeat the new Demon King, their assistance was indispensable—if they neglected the Temple's actions now, the Temple would have one more leverage over the Players later.
Dorothy's smile faded slightly as she quickly grasped the situation.
"For us laypeople, the heroes who fight the Demon King are backed by gold wheels. If they're silently taken by the Temple, it would be a loss for us too."
"But we have no connection with them. If we rashly seek them out, we might anger the heroes… Won't it be much better if their comrades made contact?"
Seeing Dorothy catch on, Billy's smile broadened. His gaze swept over Anakin, and his tone became lighter. "Forgive my frankness, but when it comes to understanding the Tahe Continent, the Alva Merchant Group is no less informed than the Temple of Life. You need a little help; we need a little benefit—it's that simple."
Hot Ash and Dorothy exchanged glances briefly.
According to Anakin, the main force behind this expedition was from Paradise. Taking this opportunity to sell Paradise some favors was indeed a good choice.
"Thank you for your sincerity," Dorothy said. "So, in your opinion, where should we start?"
"The North," Golden Sword Billy answered without hesitation. "Trust me, they will head north. Let me make a bold guess… Those people might go to Ice Rock City."
Anakin's eyebrows twitched. "Your basis?"
"Knowledge of an old acquaintance." Billy stroked his stubble. "And a bit of intuition."
"I have a rough idea of what they want to obtain."
The author has something to say:
Lol, I saw someone guess it in the last chapter.
Indeed, there's a height difference… Limited edition skin! Teest, lost in height.
Nol: My partner is cute, but I'm feeling complicated, but still cute (.