Chapter 7: Beautiful Lady, Marry Me!
Perhaps, once the Hero learned of her past, of the rumors that swirled around her like a toxic cloud, he would recoil in disgust, branding her a heretic, just like everyone else.
But for now, Angelica basked in the warmth of his unexpected kindness, her heart filled with a gratitude she hadn’t felt in years.
Logically, there were holes in Qin Chu’s little charade. Angelica’s attire alone should have been a dead giveaway. No Holy Maiden would dress as a maid.
But Angelica, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions—gratitude, relief, a flicker of something akin to hope—was in no state to think rationally.
Qin Chu felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was a victim, caught in Loseweisse’s web of lies and manipulation.
In his previous life, he had kept his distance from her, believing the rumors, treating her with the same suspicion and disdain as everyone else. Angelica, broken by years of abuse and isolation, had eventually succumbed to despair, transforming into a monstrous aberration. He had been forced to kill her, his heart heavy with regret.
Even in her final moments, she had warned him about Loseweisse, her dying words a plea for him to be careful.
He hadn’t listened. He had been blind, trusting, a fool in love.
Angelica hated Loseweisse. She hated the Church for condemning her without a fair trial.
And as a former Holy Maiden candidate, she possessed considerable power.
She was the perfect ally, a weapon to be wielded against his enemies.
He gently wiped away her tears, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. “Please, don’t cry,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “People might think I’m bullying you.”
His awkward attempt at comfort made her laugh, the sound catching in her throat, a mixture of amusement and relief. The Hero was kind, she realized. If this was bullying, then what had she endured all these years?
Despite their brief encounter, she felt a connection with him, a sense of kinship she hadn’t experienced in years.
But she knew her place. She was a fallen woman, a pariah. She couldn’t allow herself to entertain foolish hopes.
“Please, Hero,” she said, stepping back, her voice regaining its usual formality. “Don’t be so kind to me. If Lady Loseweisse sees this, she’ll be furious. After all, according to the prophecy, she is your destined lover.”
Qin Chu snorted inwardly. Loseweisse might be the Holy Maiden, but he was the second Hero. If he failed to defeat the Demon Beasts, there would likely be a third, a fourth… were they all supposed to be her lovers? Preposterous.
The prophecy was nothing but a convenient tool, a weapon wielded by those in power to control and manipulate.
He kept his thoughts to himself, however, his expression carefully neutral. “Is that so?” he said, feigning surprise. “But I don’t care for Lady Loseweisse. I find you… much more appealing.”
Angelica’s face flushed crimson, her carefully erected emotional barriers crumbling under his unexpected praise.
She shot him a shy glance, her heart pounding in her chest. “You’re teasing me, Hero,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Now, please, allow me to help you change. We can’t keep those important people waiting.”
She couldn’t allow herself to be swayed by his words. They were from different worlds, their paths destined to diverge.
Qin Chu, sensing her discomfort, dropped the subject, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Under Angelica’s guidance, he donned a tailored, albeit somewhat restrictive, knight’s uniform.
He had worn similar attire in his previous life, but his perspective had shifted dramatically.
The banquet hall was a symphony of light and sound, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats, exotic spices, and expensive perfumes. Tables laden with delicacies lined the walls, their contents destined to be devoured or discarded, a testament to the obscene wealth and extravagance of the city’s elite.
A string quartet played a soothing melody as Qin Chu navigated the throng of nobles and clergymen, his every smile, every word, a carefully calculated performance.
The Hero was a valuable asset, a powerful symbol to be exploited. Everyone wanted to be in his good graces, hoping to curry favor and secure their position in the post-war world.
Loseweisse, ever the opportunist, remained glued to his side, introducing him to various dignitaries, her touch lingering a little too long, her laughter a little too bright. They might not be lovers, not yet, but she was determined to create that impression, to solidify her position as the woman behind the Hero.
Qin Chu, observing their fawning smiles and empty platitudes, felt a surge of disgust. He would never forget their gleeful expressions as they condemned him to death, their eyes alight with a perverse satisfaction.
He would make them pay, every single one of them.
After several rounds of drinks, the three most powerful figures in the Heavenly Continent—Emperor Wadsworth of the Auville Empire, a towering, bear-like man who, despite the festive occasion, remained clad in his military uniform; Pope Augustus of the Holy See, a frail, elderly man who exuded an aura of quiet authority; and Saint Monique, the High Priestess of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess, a woman whose regal bearing and serene smile masked a shrewd mind and an iron will—gathered around Qin Chu.
Having lived through this charade once before, Qin Chu knew exactly what they wanted.
“Hero,” Emperor Wadsworth began, his voice booming across the hall. “Tomorrow, we would like you to address the people of the capital. The Demon Beasts have been particularly aggressive lately. Our soldiers are dying, our people are terrified. Your presence, your words… they will inspire hope.”
Qin Chu took a sip of his wine, savoring the rich, fruity flavor. “Your Majesty,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “I believe I haven’t agreed to fight your… Demon Beasts, have I?”
The Emperor, the Pope, and the High Priestess exchanged startled glances.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Fighting Demon Beasts was the Hero’s duty, wasn’t it?
Why else would they go through the trouble of summoning him?
His personal feelings were irrelevant.
He was the Hero, and they needed him to fight.
“Hero,” Emperor Wadsworth said, his voice laced with suspicion. “What do you mean?”
Qin Chu shrugged, his expression nonchalant. “These Demon Beasts… they sound rather dangerous. What’s in it for me? Why should I risk my life for you?”
Ah, so that was it. He wanted compensation.
The three leaders exchanged relieved glances. This was easily remedied. Money, women… they had plenty to offer, as long as he didn’t threaten their power.
“You needn’t worry about such trivial matters, Hero,” Emperor Wadsworth boomed, his voice regaining its usual confidence. “You will enjoy the highest privileges in the land. Your monthly stipend will be ten thousand Mana. And if you desire anything else… anything at all… just ask. The Auville Empire is vast and prosperous. We can fulfill your every wish.”
Qin Chu blushed, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Well, Your Majesty… it’s not about the money. I’m not… particularly fond of material possessions.” He coughed, his cheeks reddening further. “The thing is… well… you see…”
“I’m twenty-three years old,” he continued, his voice dropping to a sheepish mumble. “And I’m… still single. Fighting those Demon Beasts… it’s a dangerous job. I wouldn’t want to die without… well… you know… experiencing the joys of… matrimony. In my homeland, there’s a saying: ‘There are three ways to be unfilial, and the worst is to have no heir.’ I’m sure you understand my predicament.”
His meaning was clear. He wanted a wife.
Emperor Wadsworth and Pope Augustus chuckled, exchanging knowing glances. So, the Hero wasn’t motivated by money. He was driven by something far more primal.
Perfectly understandable, they thought.
Saint Monique, however, blushed, her lips curving into a disapproving frown.
The entire hall had fallen silent, all eyes fixed on the Hero and the three leaders. Qin Chu’s words, spoken loud enough for everyone to hear, had sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd.
In this world, where marriages were often arranged for political gain or social advancement, the Hero’s request wasn’t considered outlandish.
All eyes turned to Loseweisse.
Surely, he was going to propose to her, wasn’t he?
Who else could it be? She was beautiful, graceful, pure, and kind. Even other women couldn’t help but admire her.
And as the Holy Maiden, her status was impeccable.
They had been inseparable all evening, their interactions radiating warmth and intimacy. And the prophecy itself had declared them destined lovers.
They were the perfect couple, a match made in heaven. The unmarried noblewomen in the crowd couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. To be the Hero’s wife… it was a dream come true.
Loseweisse, initially stunned, blushed furiously.
Inwardly, however, she seethed.
The nerve of this creature! Proposing to her in front of all these people!
How dare he?
She would never marry him! Her body, her heart, belonged to Jie Luo. No other man, not even the Hero, could claim her.
Was he trying to pressure her into accepting, hoping to use the weight of public opinion to force her hand?
Emperor Wadsworth laughed, clapping Qin Chu on the shoulder. The Emperor, a powerful warrior whose strength rivaled that of the Sages, had misjudged his own strength. Despite his attempt to restrain himself, the blow sent a jolt of pain through Qin Chu’s body.
Easy there, old man, he thought, wincing. One more slap like that and I’ll be seeing stars.
“Hahaha! So, the Hero is a man of passion!” the Emperor boomed, his laughter echoing through the hall. “I like that! Very well! I grant you permission to choose any woman in this room. We have princesses, noblewomen, even my own beloved daughter is present. There are also nuns from the Church, if that is your preference. Choose whomever your heart desires, and I will arrange the marriage. I doubt any woman would refuse the Hero’s proposal.”
He projected an image of boisterous generosity, a ruler who cared for his people, who indulged his champion’s whims.
In reality, he was a cunning manipulator, his every word, every gesture, calculated to advance his own agenda.
His casual mention of his daughter was a subtle attempt to steer Qin Chu in her direction, hoping to bind the Hero to the royal family, ensuring his loyalty and strengthening his own grip on power.
The unmarried noblewomen in the crowd straightened their backs, their eyes sparkling with hope, their carefully chosen attire suddenly seeming inadequate. Some even dared to adjust their bodices, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, hoping to catch the Hero’s eye.
Their fathers, meanwhile, cursed their luck, lamenting their decision to leave their daughters at home. Even a slim chance was better than no chance at all.
As soon as the Emperor finished speaking, Qin Chu made his way towards Loseweisse.
Natia frowned, her expression unreadable.
Angelica sighed, her heart sinking. So, it was to be the Holy Maiden after all.
Loseweisse’s blush deepened, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress. She had already prepared her response, a delicate balance of gratitude and deferment. She would express her honor, but explain that her duty to the people, her unwavering commitment to eradicating the Demon Beast threat, prevented her from accepting his proposal at this time.
Once peace was restored, she would reconsider.
And in the meantime, she would devise a plan to eliminate him. She would never allow him to touch her, to sully her purity.
Her lips curved into a smile, a perfect blend of shyness and anticipation.
He was getting closer, his hand outstretched.
She reached out to meet his, her carefully rehearsed words forming on her lips.
But then, he sidestepped her, his hand brushing past hers, his eyes locking onto the maid standing behind her.
“Beautiful lady,” he said, his voice ringing out across the hall, his gaze fixed on Angelica. “Marry me.”
Angelica froze, her mind reeling, her body unable to process this sudden turn of events.
Loseweisse, her hand still outstretched, her smile frozen on her face, felt the blood drain from her face.
A wave of fury, of pure, unadulterated rage, washed over her, making her tremble.
He… he hadn’t chosen her?
How dare he!
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