A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Virginia just laughed it off when she heard it.

Lux had no idea what Virginia was really thinking.

---

night.

Virginia was leaning against the windowsill, staring blankly out the window.

"Your Highness Virginia, try to think more positively." Blanche looked at the princess's retreating figure, feeling a pang of sadness.

In her view, this princess, who was deeply in love, must be feeling very down because the relationship ended before it even began.

"Blanche." Virginia ignored Blanche's words and called her name softly.

"Is this what it means to be a loser?" Virginia said quietly, her expression not as downcast as Blanche had imagined.

Failed.

Virginia had actually anticipated this outcome, but it came sooner than she had imagined.

She just wanted to try her luck with that tiny chance, but in the end she couldn't get it.

“Your Highness, you are not a loser,” Blanche said solemnly. She would not allow the princess to call her a loser.

“No, for now, I am indeed a loser.” Virginia said this without a self-deprecating tone, as if stating a fact.

“I lost the moment I left Mr. Bray and stopped being an adventurer.”

No matter how hard she tried, Virginia and Bray met very rarely.

Of course, Virginia is always happy to see me.

Unfortunately, there will never be another opportunity like that.

"I don't know why, but even though I'm very unwilling, I can't feel jealous of Naruko at all." Virginia felt that her current state of mind was very strange.

The person I like was "stolen" away, but I didn't feel jealous or resentful at all.

"Your Highness, I'm sorry, I couldn't help you."

“There’s not much outsiders can do to help with these kinds of things.” Virginia didn’t think Blanche had any responsibility in this matter.

Blanche remained silent for a long time.

Is Princess Virginia outstanding? Of course she is.

Putting aside her background, her personal qualities alone are high enough.

She has the courage and ability; if the times allowed, it wouldn't be surprising if she were in power.

Moreover, she was a beauty, and countless men flocked to her.

Unfortunately, she only had eyes for one person, and that person was someone with zero emotional intelligence.

Moreover, for that guy, being outstanding or not, being beautiful or not, are secondary matters.

Blanche thought that for Blakeras, it would be best if someone could be by his side.

"Princess..."

“Blanche,” Virginia interrupted Blanche.

"Will I be stuck in unrequited love forever?"

“You don’t need to do this. He’ll probably be getting married soon,” Blanche sighed.

"Ok, I know."

Reality is cruel; there aren't actually many girls who are immersed in fantasies and insist on marrying no one but a certain person.

However, Virginia is willing to be this kind of unrealistic person.

She's quite young, and some people say she'll meet someone else she likes even more.

But Virginia—

"Being a little silly and not very clever is fine too." She rested her head on her arm and looked out at the starry sky.

She wanted to be a silly girl.

In a city in the Middle East.

Jonathan sat on a bench in the Nonsense Park, teasing the "beast" that had transformed into its miniature form.

Even the "Beasts," being Silver-ranked creatures, haven't recovered from the last battle.

However, this was entirely within Jonathan's expectations, since even the "Third Demon King" was now just a stone, and it would be a long time before it could grow a body.

He calculated that he would probably have to go visit Mr. Bray again.

He had no plans; he just felt like going, so he decided to go.

Unlike Marek, Jonathan didn't even have a clear goal; he just wanted to cause trouble.

Just like Clinton's case, he gained nothing from it and even lost the "beast".

Although the "beast" was not killed, it is estimated that it will not be able to serve as his bodyguard for a long time.

What should I do if I encounter any dangerous people at this time?

“Mr. Monk seems to be having a happier time,” Jonathan said in a very relaxed tone.

His audience consisted mostly of "beasts," but he still spoke with great enthusiasm.

For a chatterbox, the number of listeners is not important; what matters is that they have one.

"Beasts," lacking intelligence, are the best audience.

After all, He will definitely listen to what He says obediently, even if He doesn't understand, He will still continue to listen.

"I never imagined that Mr. Bijingren would have a child."

"How interesting! How fun!" he said, clapping his hands.

How should I put it? Jonathan couldn't love this cozy little life more than anything.

The birth of a new life can truly cleanse a person's mind and body.

"I really want to see it! I want to see the baby when it's born!" Jonathan exclaimed, even happily twirling his cane.

"Oops, I got a little too excited." But he accidentally poked the brim of his hat with his cane, sending the hat flying.

“Mr. Hat, wait a minute, Mr. Hat.” Jonathan comically climbed the chair, trying to pounce on the top hat that hadn’t yet hit the ground.

But before he could lunge forward, someone caught the hat.

"What are you planning to do now?" Marek, dressed in a military uniform, looked down at Jonathan.

"Of course I want to," Jonathan said curtly as he reluctantly took the hat from Marek.

"However, we haven't decided what to do yet."

“Maybe seeing something interesting while passing by will spark the little man’s inspiration,” Jonathan said to Marek, extending his index finger and waving it a few times.

"You liar, you have the same twisted sense of humor as always," Marek commented to Jonathan with a faint smile.

“Even if you’re a young master, you can’t call me a liar! There’s no villain in this world more honest than me.” Jonathan stomped his foot angrily, but his angry look while wearing a mask only made him look ridiculous.

"Besides, you're the one who's full of lies. Honestly, I can't even stand listening to your honest lies anymore."

"Making someone a savior? But behind the scenes, he's making them disrupt the world's balance." Jonathan's mask was pressed against Marek's face as he poked the man's chest with his finger.

"Damn it, utterly despicable, I'm angry."

"Are you angry? Then what's with that smiling face on your mask, Jonathan?" Marek smiled.

Jonathan talked a lot, but the smile on his mask became more and more exaggerated.

"Oops, have I been exposed?" Jonathan patted his mask and said cheerfully.

"It seems my acting skills need improvement. I wonder if you, Marek, have any advanced classes you could recommend?"

“I’m very sorry, I have no recommendations.” Marek shook his head.

“What a pity. In that case, let’s talk about something else, like your only surviving ‘savior’,” Jonathan said, his tone suddenly changing as he spoke with great interest.

“She seems to have stopped calling herself the savior and started calling herself the witch,” Marek paused, then said.

“But it doesn’t matter, all of this just needs to be connected by something.” Marek closed his eyes slightly and murmured.

"My script is still being performed; at least it hasn't been torn up by anyone yet."

Although the witch was still under his control, Marek had a premonition that he wouldn't be able to maintain it for much longer.

After that incident, the witch seemed to become unrestrained, or to use another word—willful.

If her actions bring benefits to those in the mathematics community, her "goodwill" will be magnified infinitely.

This led to the Mathematical Society's continued fervent worship of her.

This is also why she can make the poor rich and help the avengers get their revenge; of course, some people will admire her.

Even if she is so unscrupulous, people only care about the results and not the process.

Ultimately, while some people are genuinely acting out of "faith," what sustains the operation and existence of the Mathematical Society is, in the final analysis, self-interest.

Marek is still brewing things, unlike Jonathan who's constantly causing trouble.

"Ahhhh, I've got an idea! I've got a plan!" Suddenly, Jonathan jumped onto the chair and started gesturing wildly.

Jonathan's move came out of nowhere, but Marek seemed completely unsurprised.

“I’m going to the wedding of the monk. He’s sure to marry a lucky lady, so I’m going to give him a wedding gift.”

“We must be polite.” Jonathan said, nodding to himself.

“You seem to be quite right.” Marek nodded, still smiling.

Then a strange bird with colorful feathers landed on Jonathan's hat and chirped melodiously a few times.

With such colorful feathers, what kind of bird could have such an appearance?

However, her voice is very pleasant to listen to.

"Oh dear, is it a lost little bird?" Jonathan took off his hat and looked at the little bird with its head tilted in front of him.

“A bird that doesn’t exist in this time and space, how interesting.” Marek squinted.

They certainly saw the bird.

However, not just anyone can see this bird.

Certain conditions are required to observe this bird.

One of the points is to have a causal entanglement with this bird.

Additionally, those with special abilities can also see it, and if the bird so desires, it can also allow specific individuals to see it.

"Click." The sound of armor rang in Jonathan and Marek's ears.

As the voice rang out, Nathan's breath hitched, and the smile on his mask gradually disappeared.

Similarly, Marek, who had been smiling the whole time, also softened his smile considerably.

A swordsman dressed in worn white armor stepped into this abandoned park.

The dusty ground and the dilapidated facilities scattered on the ground perfectly matched this suit of armor.

"Skylark, come back, stop fooling around." A muffled, indistinct voice came from beneath the helmet that blocked out all light. The white armor was not ornate; in fact, it had many scratches.

If someone familiar with the armor observes it carefully, they might even discover that the armor has been repaired more than once.

The most unique part of the entire suit of armor is undoubtedly the helmet.

This helmet has no visible parts; when you wear it, your vision is completely dark.

Then the swordsman's most iconic possession—his sword—was also so broken.

The swordsman's sword was so old that even the scabbard was worn out, making one think that the blade inside the scabbard might be rusty.

"Clang." The swordsman in white armor walked unhurriedly, each step accompanied by the distinctive clanging sound of the armor.

"Chirp!" Upon seeing the swordsman, the strange bird flapped its wings and flew to his head.

It's clear that this bird really, really likes the swordsman.

The bird is called a lark, so the identity of the swordsman whose face is not visible is obvious.