9. Because I am a jackpot priest!
Robben smiled refreshingly.
“It might be a little less so now that it’s not a battlefield, but it happened once, so there’s no guarantee it won’t happen again.”
“Why is this not a battlefield...”
This isn't going to end with just this one time.
It's hard enough to live with your life tied to a mad dog, but how can you be so refreshing when you tell someone to survive an assassination attempt from outside?
“The appearance of a war hero may not be welcome to some people.”
"Ah..."
Diarin groaned.
Wherever people gather, there is politics.
It is human to do anything to protect one's interests.
“Yes, so it will be important to appear as a cool young gentleman in high society.”
“Wonderful... Master....”
Diarin looked back at the mad dog who was piling up new bones like a mountain.
Suddenly, the world felt meaningless.
It has to be a reasonable goal to even have the motivation to challenge it.
That person is more sensitive than a dog and is skilled at killing people.
Master.
That's a wonderful young master, too.
A young gentleman so cool that people all over the world would say, "Wow! The 8th Division members were such cool guys! As expected, they're war heroes!"
...Ha ha ha.
“...Is that possible?”
“If someone asks what you should do from now on?”
Robben asked back with a smile, but the bones buried in his words struck Diarin like a whip.
If it doesn't work, then make it work. What are you talking about?
It was something she had heard a lot somewhere.
She had clearly returned from the battlefield, but it was war again.
“Oh, I’m going crazy.”
This morning, Diarin survived on a little roasted bird, some grass, and some fruit.
It was a very poor meal, as if they were completely surrounded and isolated on the front lines.
Robben asked Diarin to take care of his meals for the time being.
The reason was that food passed through many hands and was difficult to keep completely secure.
This attempted poisoning incident has wiped out all the people involved.
Ceres's identity was also kept completely secret.
Even if she met someone, the fact that she was meeting with a member of the 8th Division had to be kept secret.
'That's easy.'
Just keep your mouth shut.
But putting it in your mouth was another matter.
Robben asked her to prepare the food since he would send her the ingredients separately.
Pretending not to hear about the poison created by Diarin's hands.
“My mouth? My mouth isn’t even a mouth?”
Diarin was sad.
Ceres ate well as he was given food.
Even though there was a shortage of sheep, he did not complain.
Since Ceres was eating well, he couldn't actively protest to Robben.
If Ceres even starts to make a fuss, she'll shout, "How can you starve your master!"
It was just a shame that she couldn't eat it.
All she gets back is, "Oh, cheer up."
Diarin looked at the dismal results she had created with her own hands again today, clutching her head.
This level of cooking skill was an insult to the ingredients.
“This is worse than being surrounded and eating rats...”
At that time, she was surrounded by a cook.
Surprisingly, if you cook rats well, they are quite edible.
Shs was able to hold on because there was at least some hope that rescue forces would arrive soon.
This was even more frustrating because it could take months or years.
She has to live eating this kind of food for years, not just a few days...
There was absolutely no expectation that Diarin's cooking skills would improve over those years.
"...ah?"
Diarin suddenly raised her head as a thought crossed her mind.
Why did I think this would take years?
The safest way out of this bleak and blocked situation.
All she had to do was make that crazy dog into a good master.
If it were another priest, it might take several years.
“Yeah, that’s it!”
It was said that Ceres' body was already soaked in all kinds of treatments and sorcery.
Now that she knows the cause, fixing it will be much faster.
Diarin kicked the seat without hesitation.
“Knock knock knock. The priest has arrived.”
Diarin poked her head through the door first.
Since nothing is flying, it must be permission to enter.
Anyway, Ceres didn't really care whether people came in or not, as long as they didn't make a sound.
Sometimes, when he was really annoyed, he could make a clear statement by throwing something at someone. There was no need to equivocate and wonder if they were offended or not.
These were the characteristics of the mad dog that Diarin had discovered in the past few days.
And even now, Ceres was doing his job, whether Diarin came or not.
“...”
Diarin was speechless at the sight unfolding before her eyes.
Ceres stood in the middle of the room.
But his feet were pointing towards the ceiling.
That is, he was standing on his head.
It wasn't just any handstand. It was an extraordinary handstand.
Ceres was doing a handstand with one thumb.
As Diarin blinked, his thumb changed into his index finger.
Then again, the index finger is the middle finger, and the middle finger is the ring finger.
After watching it go all the way to the little finger and then back to the thumb, Diarin shook her head in disbelief.
After returning to his thumb, Ceres started doing push-ups in that position.
Why is the world upside down over there?
Diarin was dumbfounded by the phenomenon that she couldn't understand, even after seeing it again.
After that, Ceres had to shift his weight from his thumb to his little finger about ten times before he could stand on the ground like a normal person.
“...I came here to get treatment...”
Is that body really in need of treatment?
The word "treatment" made her feel skeptical.
"Yes."
Ceres sat quietly and greeted Diarin.
Perhaps because no one had come to visit for the past few days and Diarin hadn't snored at night, Ceres seemed more at ease than before.
She was relieved to see that the momentum of biting and tearing everything had subsided.
“I’ll come closer.”
"Yes."
Diarin tiptoed over and approached slowly.
Ceres didn't even break a sweat, unlike someone who had just won a battle against gravity.
Her breathing became ragged, and she couldn't even breathe.
But the scars that appeared not long ago stood out red.
“I think it would be better to lie down and receive treatment.”
At Diarin's single word, Ceres immediately lay down on the floor.
For reference, the room was in a state of disrepair when it was first built.
Torn furniture was strewn across the floor.
Ceres lay down on his bare back, not caring about such things.
“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to lie down on the bed?”
"No."
“No? You say the bed is uncomfortable?”
"Yes."
"Why?"
“...”
Ceres did not answer the question.
It just looks like something is wrong.
“Then do you sleep on the floor?”
"Yes."
She didn't know because she never seen him sleep except when he passed out.
The bed in Ceres's room looked as big and nice as the one in Diarin's room.
Why would a bed be uncomfortable if it didn't have thorns instead of a mattress?
She couldn't understand it, but what could she do if he felt uncomfortable?
“Yes, then let’s begin.”
Diarin was a wise adult who chose to preserve life over curiosity.
There was no need to bother him by asking questions.
Diarin also kept a whistle inside her sleeve, just in case, so she could easily remove it.
“If there is anything uncomfortable, please let me know.”
Ceres nodded briefly.
It was an attitude that didn't care what others did to him as long as they were allowed to do it.
He observed his own body as if it were not his own.
Diarin felt uncomfortable with that attitude.
It felt like she was looking at something that looked like a person, but wasn't really human.
She still hasn't figured out what made this person like that.
But she'll find out soon.
Diarin began to gather divine power and focus it on Ceres' body.
"Hmm..."
But there was no great achievement today either.
No matter how much she looked at every nook and cranny of his body, there was no place that she could clearly pinpoint.
There were traces of old wounds being healed, and faint traces of witchcraft.
That was all.
No cause could be found that suggested Ceres had become so sensitive as a mad dog.
“Can you remember what kind of treatment you have had so far?”
Instead of answering, Ceres looked at Diarin with blank eyes.
He is a man who trains, regardless of whether the wounds on his body burst or not.
There was no way he could remember what procedure he had had.
“You don’t have to do it.”
Diarin decided not to be too greedy.
This is how she put God's words into practice.
A life of letting go.
Diarin also lightly let go of her expectations for Ceres.
“Let me put my hand on your back. Turn around.”
All warriors have sensitive backs.
It has to be that way because they never know what kind of surprise attack might come from behind.
One wrong move and you could lose your head.
Ceres silently followed Diarin's orders.
Even though Diarin carefully touched his back and checked for wounds, he didn't move an inch.
The soldiers usually tolerated it, but they often showed signs of displeasure.
Ceres really did not recognize his own body as his own.
It seemed like the life he had lived was difficult.
It was bittersweet to think that he didn't care enough about his own human rights to care about the human rights of others.
If possible, she hopes he becomes a real gentleman and lives well.
That path was also the path to happiness and liberation.
The path they had to take was the same anyway.
'If you work hard, things will work out somehow.'
There was nothing she could do other than work hard.
Rather than deceiving the royal family, the military, and the temple and running away, it was better to risk one's life and work hard to become a young master.
That was when.
Robben smiled refreshingly.
“It might be a little less so now that it’s not a battlefield, but it happened once, so there’s no guarantee it won’t happen again.”
“Why is this not a battlefield...”
This isn't going to end with just this one time.
It's hard enough to live with your life tied to a mad dog, but how can you be so refreshing when you tell someone to survive an assassination attempt from outside?
“The appearance of a war hero may not be welcome to some people.”
"Ah..."
Diarin groaned.
Wherever people gather, there is politics.
It is human to do anything to protect one's interests.
“Yes, so it will be important to appear as a cool young gentleman in high society.”
“Wonderful... Master....”
Diarin looked back at the mad dog who was piling up new bones like a mountain.
Suddenly, the world felt meaningless.
It has to be a reasonable goal to even have the motivation to challenge it.
That person is more sensitive than a dog and is skilled at killing people.
Master.
That's a wonderful young master, too.
A young gentleman so cool that people all over the world would say, "Wow! The 8th Division members were such cool guys! As expected, they're war heroes!"
...Ha ha ha.
“...Is that possible?”
“If someone asks what you should do from now on?”
Robben asked back with a smile, but the bones buried in his words struck Diarin like a whip.
If it doesn't work, then make it work. What are you talking about?
It was something she had heard a lot somewhere.
She had clearly returned from the battlefield, but it was war again.
***
“Oh, I’m going crazy.”
This morning, Diarin survived on a little roasted bird, some grass, and some fruit.
It was a very poor meal, as if they were completely surrounded and isolated on the front lines.
Robben asked Diarin to take care of his meals for the time being.
The reason was that food passed through many hands and was difficult to keep completely secure.
This attempted poisoning incident has wiped out all the people involved.
Ceres's identity was also kept completely secret.
Even if she met someone, the fact that she was meeting with a member of the 8th Division had to be kept secret.
'That's easy.'
Just keep your mouth shut.
But putting it in your mouth was another matter.
Robben asked her to prepare the food since he would send her the ingredients separately.
Pretending not to hear about the poison created by Diarin's hands.
“My mouth? My mouth isn’t even a mouth?”
Diarin was sad.
Ceres ate well as he was given food.
Even though there was a shortage of sheep, he did not complain.
Since Ceres was eating well, he couldn't actively protest to Robben.
If Ceres even starts to make a fuss, she'll shout, "How can you starve your master!"
It was just a shame that she couldn't eat it.
All she gets back is, "Oh, cheer up."
Diarin looked at the dismal results she had created with her own hands again today, clutching her head.
This level of cooking skill was an insult to the ingredients.
“This is worse than being surrounded and eating rats...”
At that time, she was surrounded by a cook.
Surprisingly, if you cook rats well, they are quite edible.
Shs was able to hold on because there was at least some hope that rescue forces would arrive soon.
This was even more frustrating because it could take months or years.
She has to live eating this kind of food for years, not just a few days...
There was absolutely no expectation that Diarin's cooking skills would improve over those years.
"...ah?"
Diarin suddenly raised her head as a thought crossed her mind.
Why did I think this would take years?
The safest way out of this bleak and blocked situation.
All she had to do was make that crazy dog into a good master.
If it were another priest, it might take several years.
But isn't he the Super Power Magic Ultra Capsule King, the God-Recognized, Special Divine Power-Bestowed, Ultimate Priest of the Biggest Jackpot?!
It was said that Ceres' body was already soaked in all kinds of treatments and sorcery.
Now that she knows the cause, fixing it will be much faster.
Diarin kicked the seat without hesitation.
***
“Knock knock knock. The priest has arrived.”
Diarin poked her head through the door first.
Since nothing is flying, it must be permission to enter.
Anyway, Ceres didn't really care whether people came in or not, as long as they didn't make a sound.
Sometimes, when he was really annoyed, he could make a clear statement by throwing something at someone. There was no need to equivocate and wonder if they were offended or not.
These were the characteristics of the mad dog that Diarin had discovered in the past few days.
And even now, Ceres was doing his job, whether Diarin came or not.
“...”
Diarin was speechless at the sight unfolding before her eyes.
Ceres stood in the middle of the room.
But his feet were pointing towards the ceiling.
That is, he was standing on his head.
It wasn't just any handstand. It was an extraordinary handstand.
Ceres was doing a handstand with one thumb.
As Diarin blinked, his thumb changed into his index finger.
Then again, the index finger is the middle finger, and the middle finger is the ring finger.
After watching it go all the way to the little finger and then back to the thumb, Diarin shook her head in disbelief.
After returning to his thumb, Ceres started doing push-ups in that position.
Why is the world upside down over there?
Diarin was dumbfounded by the phenomenon that she couldn't understand, even after seeing it again.
After that, Ceres had to shift his weight from his thumb to his little finger about ten times before he could stand on the ground like a normal person.
“...I came here to get treatment...”
Is that body really in need of treatment?
The word "treatment" made her feel skeptical.
"Yes."
Ceres sat quietly and greeted Diarin.
Perhaps because no one had come to visit for the past few days and Diarin hadn't snored at night, Ceres seemed more at ease than before.
She was relieved to see that the momentum of biting and tearing everything had subsided.
“I’ll come closer.”
"Yes."
Diarin tiptoed over and approached slowly.
Ceres didn't even break a sweat, unlike someone who had just won a battle against gravity.
Her breathing became ragged, and she couldn't even breathe.
But the scars that appeared not long ago stood out red.
“I think it would be better to lie down and receive treatment.”
At Diarin's single word, Ceres immediately lay down on the floor.
For reference, the room was in a state of disrepair when it was first built.
Torn furniture was strewn across the floor.
Ceres lay down on his bare back, not caring about such things.
“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to lie down on the bed?”
"No."
“No? You say the bed is uncomfortable?”
"Yes."
"Why?"
“...”
Ceres did not answer the question.
It just looks like something is wrong.
“Then do you sleep on the floor?”
"Yes."
She didn't know because she never seen him sleep except when he passed out.
The bed in Ceres's room looked as big and nice as the one in Diarin's room.
Why would a bed be uncomfortable if it didn't have thorns instead of a mattress?
She couldn't understand it, but what could she do if he felt uncomfortable?
“Yes, then let’s begin.”
Diarin was a wise adult who chose to preserve life over curiosity.
There was no need to bother him by asking questions.
Diarin also kept a whistle inside her sleeve, just in case, so she could easily remove it.
“If there is anything uncomfortable, please let me know.”
Ceres nodded briefly.
It was an attitude that didn't care what others did to him as long as they were allowed to do it.
He observed his own body as if it were not his own.
Diarin felt uncomfortable with that attitude.
It felt like she was looking at something that looked like a person, but wasn't really human.
She still hasn't figured out what made this person like that.
But she'll find out soon.
Diarin began to gather divine power and focus it on Ceres' body.
"Hmm..."
But there was no great achievement today either.
No matter how much she looked at every nook and cranny of his body, there was no place that she could clearly pinpoint.
There were traces of old wounds being healed, and faint traces of witchcraft.
That was all.
No cause could be found that suggested Ceres had become so sensitive as a mad dog.
“Can you remember what kind of treatment you have had so far?”
Instead of answering, Ceres looked at Diarin with blank eyes.
He is a man who trains, regardless of whether the wounds on his body burst or not.
There was no way he could remember what procedure he had had.
“You don’t have to do it.”
Diarin decided not to be too greedy.
This is how she put God's words into practice.
A life of letting go.
Diarin also lightly let go of her expectations for Ceres.
“Let me put my hand on your back. Turn around.”
All warriors have sensitive backs.
It has to be that way because they never know what kind of surprise attack might come from behind.
One wrong move and you could lose your head.
Ceres silently followed Diarin's orders.
Even though Diarin carefully touched his back and checked for wounds, he didn't move an inch.
The soldiers usually tolerated it, but they often showed signs of displeasure.
Ceres really did not recognize his own body as his own.
It seemed like the life he had lived was difficult.
It was bittersweet to think that he didn't care enough about his own human rights to care about the human rights of others.
If possible, she hopes he becomes a real gentleman and lives well.
That path was also the path to happiness and liberation.
The path they had to take was the same anyway.
'If you work hard, things will work out somehow.'
There was nothing she could do other than work hard.
Rather than deceiving the royal family, the military, and the temple and running away, it was better to risk one's life and work hard to become a young master.
That was when.
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