Sir Hero, It’s Time to Train!

“So, what you’re saying is you tried to refresh yourself with a mana shower but ended up being refreshed in a different way?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a different kind of refreshment…”

Christian, aware that he was being badly misunderstood, began to sweat nervously and tried to clarify his intentions.

However, Neria asked Aira instead of Christian, “Is something like that possible with mana?”

Christian let out a sigh on behalf of Aira and answered Neria, “A mana shower is literally about cleansing the inside of your body using mana. It’s effective for alleviating fatigue built up over the day and removing various waste.”

The mana shower was one of the basic techniques accessible once someone reached a level where their body could accept mana.

Particularly, as it could be administered to others, Aira also received it daily through Sir Garcia.

“Hmm, really? I didn’t know about that.”

Though Neria had married into a knight’s family, she was unaware of such things, so she just accepted it as it was.

“But if something goes wrong, isn’t it serious?”

“Uh, well. No. It’s not as serious as you’re worried about.”

“Uh, really?”

“Yes. At worst, your blood vessels might burst, your intestines might get hurt. Uh, maybe your muscles could tear, and your bones might get a bit cracked.”

“… Never do it again.”

Neria spoke with a significantly serious expression.

Aira, who had turned pale, nodded her head vigorously.

‘Why are both of them reacting like this?’

Honestly, for something like that, you could just drink or apply a potion and sleep it off.

Christian subtly interjected into the conversation before the atmosphere became too grim.

“As long as you don’t overdo it, it’s fine, so you don’t have to worry too much…”

“Excess, you always push yourself too far, don’t you?”

“…”

“I understand why you push yourself so hard, but there’s no need to harm your body over it. As your mother, I just want to make sure you’re healthy. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Neria cared more about her son’s well-being than the ambition for household supremacy or internal family strife.

She embodied the very essence of an ideal mother.

‘I understand why she collapsed when Christian died.’

Losing a son who was almost the head? It’s not just about reasonable expectations.

It was everything to her.

The reason she lived.

The sense of loss felt when losing such a part cannot be described in words.

Christian had felt the same way.

When he lost his master right before his eyes, the despair he felt was indescribable.

‘A mother’s heart upon losing her child…’

Just as the master, who never wished for such a thing, chose to save Christian, Neria too would choose her son without hesitation if faced with such a situation.

Although that was a kind of love meant for the original owner of this body…

“Huh? What’s wrong, Chris? Are you feeling unwell again?”

“No. I’m fine. Just… I promise not to make you worry again.”

“Yes. That’s all I ask.”

With Christian’s words, Neria sighed in relief, and her expression immediately brightened.

But beside them, Aira looked at Christian with a curious gaze.

‘That gaze.’

It’s envious, very envious. I want to be close with mom, too. How can I do that? Maybe she’d like me if I outdo Christian? This could be an opportunity…

‘Ah, no, that last part isn’t true. Yes, there’s no malice.’

As Christian attempted to get out of bed, Neria quickly pushed him back down, keeping him on the bed.

“Rest.”

“Yes?”

Even though he could have easily resisted, Christian didn’t oppose Neria’s hands. He looked up at her from the bed, puzzled.

“Mom, what is it?”

“Don’t do anything today. Just lie like this and rest. I’ll personally bring you your meals.”

“I’m fine…”

“No. Even if you say you’re okay, your mother isn’t. So just rest today, alright?”

“… Yes.”

Her response was firm.

The undeniable force of a mother’s will!

It resonated so strongly that it was impossible to argue back. Aira, too, nodded vigorously in agreement with Neria’s decision.

“Now then, let’s leave, Aira.”

“Oh, yes.”

As Neria stood up and moved, Aira hurriedly followed her.

Christian, watching Aira’s retreating figure, spoke up.

“Aira.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for your help.”

Christian said with a smile, and Aira responded with a faint smile of her own.

“I saw nothing, and did nothing. So, I’ll forget.”

The various meanings contained in the words ‘I’ll forget.’

And the shadow of an abyss visible beneath the smiling facade.

Yes. Forget.

Please, forget.

Damn it.

***

“Hmm∼ Hm hm∼ Hm hm∼.”

Though plump, his steps were light and cheerful, resembling a child happily heading on a picnic.

The loose-fitting white robe concealed his body completely, but it couldn’t entirely hide the way his plump belly jiggled with each movement.

His appearance must have been a familiar sight as people, passing by with a nonchalant expression, lowered their heads in greeting.

“Greetings, his Holiness.”

“Indeed!”

As a cleric offered a respectful greeting, Pope Begrian responded with a smile.

“Your Holiness, are you heading to the prayer room today as well?”

“Ho ho. Jealous?”

The prayer room, a place where only the Pope could pray, was akin to a dream destination for ordinary followers.

Therefore, with a proud and smug smile, he teased the cleric.

“Your Holiness! Did you eat my snacks again?!”

“I know not of these snacks.”

Whenever the little disciple appeared, fuming with anger, he didn’t forget to make a hasty retreat with steps surprisingly swift for his size.

While he seemed far from dignified as the leader of a religious order, the doctrine of his sect stressed the equality of all who walked the same earth.

Everyone was equal, differing only in roles and positions.

The Latima Order, known for its welcoming and familial atmosphere, was far from being somber and rigid.

He exchanged greetings with everyone he met and sometimes dodged the children who were angry with him, quickly arriving at his destination.

The prayer room where only the Pope was permitted entry.

As Begrian III arrived at the entrance of the prayer room, two holy knights guarding the entrance placed their hands on their left chests and saluted.

“Greetings to His Holiness!”

“Yes, your efforts are appreciated. Would you step aside so I can open the door?”

“Yes, Your Holiness! Please enter!”

With the knights stepping aside, Begrian III quietly approached the door and placed his hands on it.

Soon, a gentle pink holy light emanated from his body.

Not just that, but the scent of grass and flowers began to fill the air.

That overwhelming holy energy.

And the refreshing scent of grass and flowers, evidence of receiving the goddess Latima’s love in full.

Pope Begrian III faintly smiled as he pushed open the door, noticing the respectful gaze of the two Holy Knights.

Creak—!

As the thick door slowly opened, the two Holy Knights couldn’t help but admire, even though it was a sight they had seen many times.

“Amazing, Your Holiness. You indeed serve the Goddess Latima the closest.”

“It’s truly enviable. Such a beautiful holy energy.”

“Hahaha. Is that so? If you try hard enough, you all will certainly achieve it.”

Begrian III combed his hair back with his plump hand, not forgetting to throw a wink.

“Then, carry on with your duties.”

“Yes, Your Holiness!”

“Please take care, Your Holiness!”

As the two Holy Knights bowed with respectful eyes, Begrian III smiled and went inside the prayer room.

Creak—!

Thud—!

Once Begrian III entered the prayer room, the door closed on its own.

A place that no one could enter unless they were the Pope. Even for the Pope, the door could not be opened without the special love of the Goddess Latima, making it impossible for just anyone to step inside.

And within that place was…

“Oh, dear Latima. Your humble servant Begrian greets you once more today.”

The treasure of the Latima Order.

It was a statue representing the Goddess Latima.

The statue sat gracefully, delicately holding a small chalice and appeared so full of vitality, almost as if it could come to life at any moment—a true pinnacle of beauty.

In front of such a statue, Begrian III bowed his head for a moment. He then lightly cleared his throat, pulling out a pristine white cloth from his pocket with a somewhat serious expression.

“Let us begin.”

A crucial task passed down solely to Popes throughout generations.

It was none other than…

“Haha. I’ll make it spotless today as well. Oh dear, there’s dust here… It would be nice to air the place out a bit.”

The Pope applied his holy energy to the clean cloth and gently wiped the statue of the Goddess.

It was a task that no one else could undertake, an extremely important and meaningful task that evoked the envy of all, reserved only for the Pope.

Thus, he cleaned the statue with utmost care, more diligently than any other task.

“Humm, hmm.”

He hummed a tune, adding a pinkish hue to the statue.

“Hoho! The prominent nose, the gem-like eyes… The Goddess of Beauty, Aries? Hmph! How could anyone compare such a goddess to our Goddess Latima?”

He didn’t forget to disparage other goddesses.

After meticulously polishing the statue for a long time, it was the moment he brought the cloth close to the chalice that Goddess Latima was holding.

Snap—!

“… Huh?”

He looked at the cloth pulled away from the chalice.

A chalice with numerous cracks.

Begrian III turned pale at the sight.

“Wh-what?”

As he wondered what was happening in his confusion…

Crack!

Not merely content with the cracks, the chalice snapped.

Crash—!

No, it didn’t just snap; the chalice shattered into pieces, scattering fragments in Goddess Latima’s palm.

At this sight, the cloth slipped from Begrian III’s hand and dropped to the floor.

“La-Latima…”

The small chalice cherished by Goddess Latima.

A treasure passed down through the lineage of the Latima Order.

“Why do you bestow such a trial upon me?”

The holy relic, Latima’s Chalice.

…lay in pieces there.