Nol instinctively wanted to refuse. But as the words reached his lips, he swallowed them back.
Given the current circumstances, there was no better spy than Painter. Enbillick wouldn't be foolish enough to trust Painter, but given his nature, he wouldn't easily strike against Painter, who bore an oracle.
They must understand the significance of Star Stealer Sol's wife and children.
"Going alone? I don't approve." Teest's head squeezed closer to the fire circle.
Painter: "I can't believe the great Mad Monk is worried about my safety."
"This guy might not tell us all the information." Ignoring Painter, Teest's arm casually hooked around Nol. "Besides, letting him go alone, Star Stealer Sol might tamper with something."
"But the 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' can't be used." Nol frowned.
Painter's strength was already at the top of the pyramid. Sending others along would be pointless.
He and Teest were too powerful. Getting close to Star Stealer Sol could easily alert him. No matter how strong 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' was, it was a system-awarded item—not powerful enough to single-handedly tackle a god's avatar.
Another head squeezed in. Perradat, possessing Lilith, said in a tone filled with disdain, "Want to hide your presence? Just use an avatar—now you two are in your true forms. Just create a super weak avatar and recall it when done."
"If it's a weak avatar, I'm confident in concealing you. Star Stealer Sol definitely won't discover you."
Two gods squeezed into a fire circle, discussing back and forth.
Mr. Painter, the former Pope, watched this… This not-so-sacred scene made his heart suddenly fill with faint weariness.
The God of Creation obediently created gold to buy ingredients, and the newly minted local god wasn't quite right in the head—these two were in a thick atmosphere of blooming romance.
Behind the Goddess of Life and the Eternal Son was a mercenary middle-aged man, and his archenemy—the defeated in the two gods battle, the God of Fate, Perradat—was holding half a piece of sugar cake, waving her arms, and speaking sarcastically.
What about the mortal world? The would-be Pope of the Temple of Life was still a young man full of thoughts of the Goddess. The Pope of the Eternal Church was as passive as a dead fish, only reactive when prodded by Teest.
Indeed, Teest's concerns had merit. Were it not for Star Stealer Sol's inhumane behavior, Enbillick might even seem like the most reliable option.
The future of Tahe was truly worrying.
Painter ignored the chattering gods and poured himself another cup of tea.
Hmm, the tea is a bit cold. He wondered when the General's promised lunch would be served. He was so hungry…
Just as Painter was about to nod off, the gods' discussion finally reached a conclusion.
With two 'pops', two… things crossed through the fire circle, jumping to the side of the teacup. Simultaneously, the fire circle extinguished, and the noisy voices abruptly stopped.
Painter lowered his gaze, his face twitching twice.
Two walnut-sized furballs stopped next to his teacup. One was black and the other white, with medium-length soft fur. Hidden among the dense fluff were mung bean-sized round eyes. These things seemed weightless, bouncing around like soap bubbles.
They had no magical aura and looked like ambiguous tourist souvenirs when still.
Painter: "..."
This couldn't be…
[This is our first time creating avatars. It's a bit rough.] The black furball made an effort to bow, uncertain if it was nodding or saluting. [Enbillick knows all our identities and appearances. A new image is safer.]
Nol's voice directly resonated in Painter's mind.
Teest directly jumped into Painter's dessert plate, opening a mouth hidden under the fluff to crunch on a cookie.
[I advise you not to get any other ideas—if these two avatars are destroyed, the loss to Nol and me is less than a hair. Our consciousness will return to our true forms and wake up at our base.]
Curious, Painter reached out to pick up Teest, who was munching on a cookie. The latter promptly spun around, chomping down on Painter's finger. Painter's fingertip soon sported two rows of fine, dense bite marks, and a bead of blood slowly emerged.
The touch was quite soft, seemingly pocketable.
"Are the people from Paradise gone?" The General timely returned to the room, followed by a hulking monster pushing a dining cart. The plates were covered with a lid, and a hint of roasted venison aroma leaked out.
Painter glanced at the two furballs pretending to be dead, suddenly realizing something—this was practice for the General in advance.
"Yes." Painter carefully picked up the two furballs, careful not to squeeze the dignitaries too hard.
Only then did he notice the two furballs sneakily extending thread-like "little hands" to firmly grasp each other's fur. The black and white furballs seemed sewn together, inseparable, no matter how much they were shaken.
Don't laugh, Godfrey Painter. These are the avatars of two great gods. Don't laugh.
Thinking of those devout believers… Thinking of poor Eugene… worse, it made him want to laugh even more. Mr. Painter struggled not to look at the two little things as his lips trembled.
"What are these?" The General looked disbelievingly at the two furballs. She clearly remembered there weren't these little things on the table just before.
"Gifts." Painter coughed twice, smoothly lying. "From a kid I helped recently."
Painter, still holding onto much of his priestly duties, often helped young, poor children on a whim. He frequently received strange gifts like glass marbles, tree branch slingshots, and stone bracelets, all of which he treasured, so the General wasn't surprised.
Watching the two furballs disappear into Painter's pocket, the General suspected nothing. She snapped her fingers, and the hulking monster served Painter roasted venison, bread, and chowder.
'As expected from the General,' Painter thought. Even with the disruption of contact with Paradise, she mentioned nothing related to it, let alone probing for information.
"So, how long do you plan to stay here?" The General sliced a piece of meat, savoring the flavor. "I suggest you not stay here—I have nothing against you personally, but I still have to do business with Paradise. The last thing I need is extra attention. I believe you understand."
With that, she made a toast gesture to Painter. "As compensation for sending you away, I'll give you a free piece of information."
"I do have something I'm curious about."
Painter crossed his fingers, not at all offended by the dismissal. He glanced at the pocket containing the furballs. "What do you know about 'Avra Alva'?"
Why is everyone so interested in Golden Sword's family? The General's brows twitched, and after a few seconds, she replied, "That's a good question. I regret giving it to you for free."
"Please, continue." Painter's smile remained unchanged.
"If it were anyone else asking, I could talk about her origins. An orphaned slave from a foreign land, with no backing and almost no past to investigate—as the officiant of her wedding, you know her situation. She's just a pitiful creature, like a speck of dust."
The General tapped her lips with a silver fork. "Since you're asking about 'Avra Alva', I guess you're more interested in her life after marriage. Unfortunately, there's really not much information on her."
"Whatever comes to mind is fine. I don't need you to investigate further." Painter used bread to soak up the chowder on the edge of the plate, then said in a relaxed tone, "After all, it's free information. Just consider me overly curious."
"Normally, a merchant's wife has many duties—managing assets, overseeing servants, attending social events, and the like. As for those tedious household matters, they're usually left to the servants."
The General casually narrated, "But as far as I know, Miss Avra rarely appears in public. Perhaps due to her status, she doesn't socialize at all. Even when she does show up, it's only to move places with 'Golden Sword'."
"Enbillick Alva's residences everywhere are very simple and not specifically managed by someone. I suppose Miss Avra might be responsible for these."
"That is to say, she almost has no personal relationships to investigate." Painter swirled his teacup.
"Indeed. Her children would be picked up and dropped off by a dedicated servant to receive education from a private tutor, rather than having the tutor come to their home. Miss Avra wouldn't privately meet with guests when her husband is away."
"The popular theory now is that 'Golden Sword' does this to protect his wife, who comes from a slave background, only wanting her to live a peaceful and happy life—however, putting aside those messy romantic stories, objectively speaking, Miss Avra only appears in public alongside Golden Sword."
[Oh, it's more like a secret weapon. Maybe that woman was made by Star Stealer Sol.] Inside Painter's pocket, Teest squeezed Nol thoughtfully.
Nol looked down at his own black velvet fur and remained silent.
He still remembered the night he visited the Alvas' home. Miss Avra's smile was very sincere, and he could see love in her gaze. To say Avra was domesticated didn't quite fit… From all they currently knew, her emotions didn't need taming.
A kind slave with a humble background and a bleak future, saved by a handsome and brave caravan leader. Despite societal pressure, he proposed to her. They got married under the blessings of the current Pope and lived happily together.
Whether on Earth or Tahe, Nol had seen countless folk stories with similar plots.
Their story was very much like a fairy tale.
Except Star Stealer Sol was best at destroying fairy tales. Nol didn't believe it could harbor love for humans, which made him even more puzzled about the purpose of "Avra".
"I heard Miss Avra was recently in Grape Collar." Painter continued to inquire, "She hasn't left yet, has she?"
"No, their whole family is here." The General chewed on the tender meat. "They've been out shopping for several days, looking incredibly close."
"Thank you for the information." Painter put down his knife and fork.
General: "You ate so little. Does the food not suit your taste?"
"No. I have to save some room for dinner tonight." Painter stood up, revealing a smile.
As he moved, two fluffy balls snuck back deep into his pocket.
...
Nol thought Mr. Pope would use some indirect tactics—like a chance encounter or a feigned strategy. Anyway, he wanted to be legitimately taken back by Golden Sword's family.
Who would have thought the man would directly rush to Golden Sword's residence and knock on the door openly.
Enbillick was actually home. He looked somewhat astonished at the visitor. Nol wasn't sure if the astonishment was an act or genuine—Enbillick was wearing an apron, with his sleeves rolled up, and flour on his arms.
"Painter?" Enbillick blocked the door. "Why are you suddenly…"
"I just escaped from Eugene Malloy. The Temple of Life will soon be searching the city for me."
Painter started with the truth. "I can't find the Lost Tower, and the General won't take me in. I heard you were in town. Please shelter me for a night."
"That's interesting. You weren't so eager last time," Enbillick said, still making way for him to enter.
"Because last time didn't involve the Temple." Painter sighed with some embarrassment. "I thought I could seek refuge in Paradise. The city wasn't prepared for a stronghold."
"Facing Eugene Malloy, that indeed is a problem." Enbillick clicked his tongue, seemingly inadvertently continuing, "Speaking of which, didn't you know about the Demon King incident in Paradise? You even dared to find that Tower."
"Why do you think the General kicked me out? That guy values business more, wishing to cut ties with anything related to Paradise. Worse still, the Temple of Life will have a similar idea."
Painter answered very naturally, "I wasn't in Grape Collar recently and happened to just miss this event—you know me, I wouldn't be in league with monsters that harm this land."
Aside from the General's attitude towards Paradise, the rest was all true. Even if Star Stealer Sol investigated, it couldn't find anything. Nol curled up in the pocket, inwardly admiring.
He was unsure whether to say Mr. Painter sees things too openly or retains his youthful recklessness. Knowing the person opposite was a god he once worshiped, the Former Pope showed no fear—
"I believe you wouldn't turn me away over such a matter." Painter earnestly said, "Sorry, Mr. Alva, for the trouble."
"Enbillick."
Enbillick smiled and pointed at himself, leaving a few flour marks on the apron. "Since Mr. Pope acknowledges our friendship, let's not use 'Mr. Alva'."
It was an impeccable, warm smile. If Nol didn't know who he was dealing with, he would have been fooled too.
Painter: "Alright, Enbillick. It seems I've interrupted something."
"Interrupted? You came at the perfect time. We were making jam-filled pies for the kids. You must try some."
Enbillick laughed heartily. "The chaos at the Alva Merchant Group hasn't settled, so I got a little long holiday."
Behind Painter, the door of the Alva's house slowly closed. The air was filled with the sweet scent of cooking jam, and Painter's gaze moved to find Avra Alva making jam by the stove.
The two children weren't in the living room, probably sleeping upstairs.
Hearing the noise, their target for the visit—Miss Avra—turned around, showing the same warm smile.
"I still remember you."
She tidied her slightly messy hair. "Good afternoon, Mr. Painter."
"Good afternoon, Miss Alva."
Painter performed a standard greeting, and from the gap of his pocket, four tiny dots of light peeked out.
The author has something to say:
A change of outfit every arc (?) This time featuring the belated glutinous rice balls—
Hello, Mr. Nol with black sesame and sweet cream filling, and Mr. Teest with glutinous rice and chocolate filling.
In this chapter, Mr. Painter encounters the terrifying event of glutenous rice ball biting!