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[Translator - Tangrine ]
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Chapter - 11: Nekomimi Maid Gigachad
I successfully prevented the first destruction.
Thanks to that, I’ve been able to enjoy a few hobbies here and there.
Like tossing gold coins to Kanaria and watching her do tricks.
“I'm getting tired of your dog impression. Got any new tricks?”
“...Do you perhaps prefer cats over dogs?”
“Cats are cuter.”
Kanaria looked heartbroken, like a golden retriever being denied a walk.
She glanced up at me as if I was on the ‘cat side’ was a major revelation.
Why are you even identifying with a dog?
You're a person. A human being.
Not a literal dog, for crying out loud.
“Kana.”
“Yes?”
“Repeat after me. I am not a dog, I am a human.”
“I am a dog.”
Great. Her brain is officially broken.
This might just be a side effect of the telepathy spell.
No choice now—I'll use the Gigachad.
-“You fucking idiot. You’re not some dumb mutt. Stop the self-deprecation.”
“I have realized something. One’s limits are determined only by oneself. If I have infinite potential then surely the potential of being a dog exists too. I was destined to be your loyal mutt, my Lord. No, I carved that destiny with my own hands.”
-“What the—”
That was... disturbingly logical.
I can't argue with it.
Even Gigachad was momentarily stunned by Kanaria’s overwhelming madness.
Might be fun to make a Gigachad (Doggy Maid Ver.) later on.
Seems like it’d be effective as a psychological weapon.
“My Lord, that’s disgusting. Get rid of the hallucination.”
“Ah. Sorry. I was just imagining it."
The hallucination showed Gigachad in a tight-fitting maid outfit that barely hid his massive pecs, with floppy dog ears perched on his head.
It was hideous.
I changed the dog ears to cat ears.
Much better.
Cats are way cuter than dogs, after all.
“Are you gay?”
Kanaria just called me a goddamn gay, right to my face.
Wait, she said it out loud this time?
“You’re getting way too comfortable lately, you know that?”
“Please do something about that abomination. I feel sick.”
“It’s a shame you can’t appreciate the artistic brilliance behind Gigachad’s design.”
Swallowing my disappointment, I deleted the hallucination of Gigachad.
That particular version’s abilities should probably be sealed away for now.
“Please keep it sealed forever.”
“Wait... can you read my mind now?”
“Well, I’ve been sharing your telepathy for months. I can more or less guess what you’re thinking.”
“Is that so?”
In that case, I’ll have to cook up something so outrageous that not even Kanaria can predict it.
You’ve just bruised my pride.
In this world, all nobles are bloodlines chosen by the gods.
That’s not a metaphor.
The gods actively interfere in the world, using heroes and priestesses as their agents.
When a hero accomplishes a great deed, the gods bestow upon them a true name.
Family names like Nosferatu or Prohiden were all directly granted by the gods.
I may have left all administrative duties to my vassals, but I’m still Nosferatu.
The authority I wield exists solely because it’s backed by the will of the gods.
“My lord, a letter has arrived from the temple.”
“Yeah?”
Kanaria handed me the letter.
A plain white envelope, sealed with molten gold.
It’s used only by the royal family or the temple itself.
The contents of the letter could be summed up as.
[Come to the temple to report and receive divine approval for your inheritance of the Nosferatu name.]
[Refusal to swear fealty to the gods will result in revocation of your divine name.]
A simple threat.
Of course, it’s only a threat.
They wouldn’t revoke a divine name handed down directly by the gods.
What kind of priest would dare?
But still, opposing the temple is a bad move.
It’d give other nobles or regional lords an excuse to question my legitimacy.
Even my vassals might start to waver in their loyalty.
“What a hassle. Going there in person feels like sticking my head in a tiger’s mouth.”
“Shall I go in your place?”
“Using an illusion substitute sounds even more annoying. Forget it.”
I could manipulate the perception of everyone I encounter along the way and just send Kanaria as a stand-in.
But honestly, the effort isn’t worth it.
Better to just get the divine oath ceremony over with and return.
It’s not like it’ll take that long anyway.
“It’s the Temple of the Libra?”
“Yes, sir.”
Well, that temple is one of the more moderate factions in this world.
If it were one of those temples of ‘Justice’ or ‘Charity,’ I’d rather renounce the family name altogether.
To begin with, if Nosferatu had been named by a god like that, we wouldn’t be known as the infamous ‘House of Assassins.’
“They say they'll send an escort if needed.”
“Then tell them I’ll take it. Ask for the strongest hero they’ve got.”
"Pardon? Are you replying like that? Nosferatu has plenty of knights."
In truth, the phrase ‘we’ll send an escort’ is just rhetoric to block the excuse, ‘I didn’t come because it was dangerous.’
A noble house like Nosferatu would never be lacking in knights.
Requesting an escort from the temple could easily be seen as disgraceful.
But that sort of pride was irrelevant to me.
After all, it was Nosferatu’s dignity that would take the hit, not mine.
“No need to waste our knights’ energy. It's annoying how they summon us like it's nothing. Might as well squeeze whatever services we can out of them.”
“Hmm. Understood.”
Kanaria took the letter and went off to find a scribe.
She’d draft the reply well enough.
And so, I leaned back to enjoy a rare moment of peace.
Until the temple sent someone.
.
.
.
“It is an honor to meet the Duke of Nosferatu. I am Heinrich Royce, the hero assigned to escort you to the temple. I humbly serve the god of Libra. This is my companion, Priscilla.”
“Pleased to meet you. I am Priscilla.”
The temple’s choice was... exquisite.
A priestess pretending to be a hero and a former witch?
It wouldn't be a stretch to say they knew exactly who I was and sent them accordingly.
No doubt, someone had meddled.
I looked up at the sky for a moment.
Clear blue—without a single cloud.
‘Sorry for faking your divine revelation. Still, good picks.’
Among the heroes of the contract with Libra, many are disabled.
Blind, deaf, and missing limbs..
This is due to the unique nature of the power granted by the Libra.
The more one has given up or lacked from birth, the stronger the divine gift they receive.
A person who cannot walk may be granted wings to soar freely.
Someone blind may be blessed with wisdom that doesn’t require sight.
To relinquish one thing is to gain another.
That is the power of the Libra.
And Priscilla gave up everything she had built in her life.
Her magical powers as a witch. Her immortality. Her family’s love. Even her own life.
The moment she receives a formal baptism, she’ll become one of the greatest heroes the world has ever known.
‘I’ll offer a generous donation to the temple once the divine oath is complete.’
With that self-justification and a touch of bribery woven into prayer, I accepted the priestess' greeting.
“The honor is mine. I’m grateful for the temple’s invitation. This is Kanaria, my personal maid.”
“It is an honor to meet a hero.”
It’s not like there aren’t female heroes in the temple.
So why was this priestess crossdressing?
It seemed she had a secret, unspeakably dark fetish.
“...No, that’s not it.”
“Huh?”
“I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not it.”
Wait, what?
“Oh.”
She was deaf.
“……”
“……”
The god of the Libra is fair and impartial.
When a person gives something up, they may be promised something even greater in return.
But for certain believers, the Libra weighs even more generously.
Those who are especially loved by the gods are known as priestesses.
They receive powers greater than any hero’s.
The priestess of the Libra is no exception.
If she gouges out her eyes, she’ll be able to see the future.
If she severs her legs, she’ll be able to fly.
And if she drives an awl into her ears and becomes deaf…
-“What business does the priestess of the Libra have with me?”
-“The gods of the Pantheon have accepted your ideals.”
Their conversation shifted into telepathy.
-“They have agreed to never interfere through a priestess or reveal your secrets. You are free to proceed as you wish.”
-“So they’ll even tolerate me using the priestesses?”
-“If necessary. Yes. The god of Libra will guarantee it.”
They were going to look the other way while I used the priestesses.
In other words, I was being given tacit permission to fake divine revelations as much as I pleased.
I’d expected that from Libra.
That god respects human methods.
They rarely interfere, even with chosen priestesses.
However, I did not know that even Justice and Charity would come forward to help me.
I guess even the gods do not wish for the world to end.
This drastically widened the scope of what I could do.
If I played it right, I might even be able to finally start meddling in the Imperial Court.
“Does that mean I don’t have to donate anymore?”
“…Just show a little sincerity.”
“How petty.”
“……”
“Fine, I’ll donate generously. It’s not like I have many expenses these days. I’ll send a decent share to the Pantheon too.”
“Thank you.”
That's how the secret pact between me and the gods to save the world was concluded.
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[Translator - Tangrine ]
[Proofreader - Seeker ]
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