Chapter 3: Sight through the wall cracks.

West District, Old Oak Inn.

This was a three-story wooden building that seemed ready to fall apart at any moment.

The air reeked of mold mingled with the sour stench of old, cheap liquor.

This place was a hangout for failed adventurers and street prostitutes; soundproofing might as well have been zero.

Hill pushed open the door to room 203. The hinges emitted a shrill, complaining groan.

The room was outrageously cramped. A bed stable on only three legs, a table missing a corner—that was her entire worldly belongings.

“So this is home now.”

Hill gave a bitter smile and shook her head. She closed the door behind her and, with practiced movements, shoved a chair under the doorknob.

The most basic way to stop someone from picking the lock in the middle of the night.

From the next room came a series of violent thuds, accompanied by a man’s coarse roaring and a woman’s sharp cries.

That was the alcoholic brute in 204. Apparently he spent every night unleashing his violence.

Hill frowned and sat on the edge of the bed, which felt as hard as a stone slab.

Her body was wailing in protest.

Even though Phyllis had used healing magic earlier today, that kind of spell could only repair physical wounds—it did nothing to erase mental fatigue.

The soreness in her muscles surged forward like a rising tide.

She loosened her collar, revealing delicate collarbones.

Because this body was so fragile and sensitive, the rough linen had already chafed faint red marks into her skin.

“Just… endure it a little longer.”

Hill sighed and lay down still fully clothed.

She didn’t dare fall into deep sleep. Her hand remained tightly wrapped around a rusted dagger.

In a place like this, losing consciousness was the same as gambling your life on pure luck.

The noise from next door continued unabated, like a dull saw slowly grinding across her nerves.

But under the weight of extreme exhaustion, Hill’s consciousness still gradually sank into darkness.

If only this environment could become a little quieter…

That was her last thought before awareness slipped away.

2 a.m., deep night.

Ordis was never quiet at night, but right now the second-floor corridor of Old Oak Inn was unnaturally still.

A figure appeared silently in front of room 203.

No footsteps. Even the sound of air displacement had been deliberately erased.

Phyllis stood before the dilapidated wooden door, an almost pious expression on her face.

She extended a single finger and lightly touched the keyhole.

“…Gap of Silence.”

Inside the lock, springs and bolt melted soundlessly and slid aside.

The chair braced against the door made no scraping noise either; it simply glided backward an inch in an eerie, frictionless motion.

The door opened.

Phyllis stepped into the narrow space thick with mildew and sour rot.

Her brows instantly knitted together. A flash of revulsion passed through her eyes.

This air…

This air polluted by the exhaled waste of lesser creatures—daring to enter Hill’s lungs?

She raised her hand. A very faint barrier instantly unfolded, completely enveloping the room.

Absolute Purification Barrier, miniature.

A high-tier ward used by the Church to preserve sacred relics—capable of blocking all dust, bacteria, and sound.

The air turned fresh in an instant, carrying the faint, clean scent of lilies after rain.

Phyllis walked to the bedside.

Moonlight poured through the window onto Hill’s sleeping face.

Silver hair lay scattered across the pillow. Her brows were slightly furrowed from the discomfort of the hard bed. Her hand still gripped the dagger in wary reflex.

“What a… pitiable child.”

Phyllis gazed at Hill with rapturous tenderness and slowly reached out.

She didn’t take the dagger. Instead she gently laid her hand over the back of Hill’s.

A warm, soft current of mana flowed in through the point of contact.

This wasn’t ordinary healing—it was the far subtler Mana Resonance technique.

The tight crease between Hill’s brows smoothed out.

In her sleep, she felt as though someone had lifted her from cold, hard stone and settled her onto warm, drifting clouds.

Her tense muscles finally let go completely. The fingers clutching the dagger loosened unconsciously.

“Hehe…”

Phyllis smiled in quiet satisfaction.

She bent down until her cheek nearly touched Hill’s face.

Just then—

Another dull, heavy thud came from room 204 next door. Even through the barrier, the floor vibrated faintly.

Phyllis froze.

She straightened. The liquid gentleness in her eyes instantly crystallized into absolute-zero stillness.

She turned her head and stared fixedly at the shared wall, as though her gaze could bore straight through the wood and see the person on the other side.

“Too noisy.”

She whispered.

Phyllis raised her right hand. Her index finger traced a complex rune in the air toward the wall.

Black magic—Nightmare Cage.

The noise from next door vanished instantly.

It didn’t merely stop—it was as though a black hole had devoured it whole.

The drunkard would now sink into a three-day deep coma, endlessly reliving the terror of suffocation in his dreams.

“Now… the world is quiet.”

Phyllis turned back. Her eyes softened once more into something tender enough to drip as she looked at the sleeping Hill.

She took a small sachet from her bosom and slipped it under Hill’s mold-scented pillow.

Inside was the highest-grade calming herb—worth ten gold coins.

“Good night, my Hill.”

She placed the lightest, feather-soft kiss on Hill’s forehead.

“Though I want nothing more than to take you away right now, lock you in a place only I know… I still have to wait. I need you to reach the point where… you can no longer leave me.”

Morning.

The instant Hill opened her eyes, panic surged through her.

She shot upright. Her heart pounded wildly.

It was already light?

She had… actually fallen asleep?

And deeply?

For someone who used to be a warrior, this was a lethal blunder.

Sleeping like a corpse without a night watch—in the wild she would have died a hundred times over.

She quickly scanned the room.

The chair was still wedged under the doorknob. The position didn’t seem to have changed.

The dagger had slipped onto the bedsheet, but it remained within reach.

No sign of any intrusion.

But…

Hill wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air.

The nauseating mold and sour stench had noticeably faded. In its place was a faint, elusive clean fragrance—like some high-quality herbal tea.

And her body… felt impossibly light.

The all-over soreness she had braced herself for upon waking was completely absent. Instead she felt full of energy, as though every cell had been freshly charged.

Even her skin felt smoother and more hydrated.

“How is this possible…”

Hill stared at her own palm in bewilderment.

Just one night of sleep—and the recovery was comparable to drinking a mid-grade stamina potion?

Was yesterday’s healing magic really that potent?

Or did this body actually possess remarkable natural regeneration?

And also…

Hill glanced at the wall shared with next door.

That drunkard neighbor who made noise until dawn every single night—last night there hadn’t been a single sound?

“Did he finally move out?”

Hill muttered to herself.

Though everything felt strangely off, since her physical condition was excellent and there was no evidence of harm, Hill decided not to pursue it for now.

This excessive comfort triggered her instincts to stay alert.

Yet the pleasure signals flooding in from her body were quietly eroding her rationality.

This must be what people mean by… a sudden streak of good luck, right?

She comforted herself with that thought.

8 a.m., guild entrance.

When Hill arrived, Phyllis was already waiting.

Still clad in that immaculate white nun’s habit, holding an elegant woven basket, she looked like a living oil painting in the morning sunlight.

“Good morning, Miss Hill!”

The moment she spotted Hill, Phyllis stepped forward, her face blooming with a completely cloudless smile.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

It was a perfectly ordinary greeting.

But to Hill it felt as though the question had struck directly at the confusion in her heart.

“…Surprisingly well.”

Hill answered honestly.

“Probably because I was completely exhausted yesterday.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Phyllis’s smile grew even brighter. Satisfaction glittered in her blue eyes.

“Sleep really is the best medicine. Ah, right—”

She lifted the white cloth covering the basket. A rich, sweet aroma immediately wafted out.

Freshly baked honey croissants—still warm.

Beside them was a small crystal vial of warm milk.

“I figured Miss Hill probably hadn’t had breakfast yet, so I prepared an extra portion on the way.”

Phyllis naturally offered the basket.

“If you don’t mind, please enjoy.”

On the way?

Preparing breakfast of this caliber would take at least an hour, wouldn’t it?

And honey croissants…

Back when she was still Rayne in her previous life, these were the occasional secret indulgence she would buy for herself—a small luxury.

Yet the current Hill had never once mentioned this preference to anyone.

“This… is too much.”

Hill hesitated.

“It’s logistical support between teammates.”

Phyllis blinked, her tone turning just slightly more serious.

“Today we’re subjugating a horned-rabbit swarm. It will consume a great deal of stamina. If Miss Hill collapses from low blood sugar, I’ll be in serious trouble.”

Another perfectly logical, impossible-to-refute reason.

Everything was for the quest. For maximum efficiency.

Hill looked at the golden, crispy pastry. Her throat moved visibly.

“…Thank you. Um… how much do I owe you?”

“Hmm…”

Phyllis appeared to think for a moment, then tapped one finger against her lips.

“Then… next time if we obtain a particularly beautiful magic stone, just keep it for me as a souvenir.”

Another price so low it was practically a gift.

Hill accepted the basket and took a bite of the croissant.

The crisp outer layer shattered between her teeth. Intense honey and butter flavor exploded across her tongue.

It was so delicious she felt like crying.

Compared to the moldy black rye bread at the inn, this was the difference between heaven and hell.

Watching Hill’s cheeks puff out as she ate, Phyllis clenched both fists tightly behind her back.

Her nails dug deep into her palms, suppressing the overwhelming urge to rush forward, embrace her, and meld her into her own body.

Eat, eat…

My beloved Hill…

Once you realize you cannot live without these things, even if you want to leave—you won’t be able to.

“By the way, Miss Hill.”

After Hill finished eating, Phyllis handed her a handkerchief and casually brought up,

“I heard yesterday that the guild offers a long-term party contract quest. If you register as fixed teammates, you can apply for a double dormitory. Apparently the living conditions there are far better than outside inns—and it’s completely free.”

The bait had been cast.

Hill’s hand paused while wiping her mouth.

Free?

Better conditions?

For someone currently being tormented by a decrepit inn, this was almost impossible to refuse.

“There’s something like that?”

Hill asked.

“Yes, though both members need a certain amount of contribution points.”

Phyllis smiled sweetly.

“If we work a little harder today, we should be able to qualify. What do you think—shall we give it a try?”

Hill looked into Phyllis’s sincere, sparkling eyes.

Reason warned her that living together with a mysterious healer she’d known for less than two days carried enormous risks.

But her body…

The stomach now filled with warm, delicious food, the wounds soothed by healing magic—both were screaming at the top of their lungs: “Accept!”

“…Alright. Let’s try it.”

Hill finally nodded.

Phyllis lowered her head slightly, concealing the subtle, triumphant curve at the corner of her lips.

“Mm. Let’s do our best together… partner.”