Chapter 16: The Nun’s Disguise

After wandering for a while, they finally reached the vicinity of the Saint River. There were few vendors here, so the three boarded the carriage to return to the Left Bank.

The autumn afternoon sunlight slipped through the carriage curtain gap, drawing a golden line across Aurora’s knee.

The spire of Saint Celestine Cathedral peeked out from among the buildings, piercing the skyline with a glittering cross.

‘Here it comes, here it comes.’

‘Aurora’s evil plan is about to begin.’

Just as the carriage passed the long staircase at the foot of the cathedral, Aurora suddenly spoke up to stop Balian:

“Stop the carriage here. Since we’re in the area, how about we take a look at your workplace?”

Balian, nicknamed the Hero Candidate, held a nominal position at Saint Celestine Cathedral. When needed, he ran errands to various small churches in the royal capital. To put it nicely, he was “mobile force”; bluntly put, all the field missions others didn’t want were dumped on him.

Such was the “hero’s training.”

“You wish to visit the cathedral, Miss?”

Balian was a bit surprised but quickly nodded.

“Sure. The cathedral’s bath uses holy water blessed by the Goddess; it’s very beneficial for recovery. You’ve been through a lot lately, Miss. A soak would do you good.”

“Fine.”

Balian parked the carriage at the side entrance and led the two inside.

Saint Celestine Cathedral truly lived up to its reputation as a landmark of Frania. Even the side aisle was more imposing than the main halls of some minor nobles—the pointed arch vault soared overhead, stained glass windows filtered the afternoon light into patches of colored fragments scattered on the stone floor, and the air carried a faint scent of frankincense and myrrh.

The nuns who came to greet them walked with dignity, their faces gentle, their bows flawless.

—If you only looked at their faces.

Aurora’s gaze involuntarily drifted downward.

The upper part of the church habit was actually quite proper: a white corset over a black sleeveless robe, the veil neatly arranged, the neckline not too low.

The problem was the lower half.

Both sides of the robe were slit from the ankle all the way up to the waist.

When walking, the hem parted and closed with each step, fully exposing an entire leg from hip to ankle in the instant of the stride—the white stocking-clad thigh, the black garter belt holding up the stockings, and above the garter buckle, a stretch of bare skin at the waist and hip.

Then the next step, the hem closed, and everything disappeared.

Next step, the other side opened, revealing the other leg.

Alternating left and right.

No fabric between waist and thighs.

No panty line.

This meant the nuns either wore seamless undergarments, high-waist designs, or—

Aurora decided not to dwell on this thought further.

Lust and procreation were core doctrines of the Goddess’s orthodox faith, so the nuns’ attire was often more provocative than that of ordinary noblewomen. The higher the rank, the less they wore.

So, stay calm. At least they were wearing clothes.

She glanced at Balian. He stared straight ahead, his expression as devout as if reciting scriptures, completely ignoring the young women in seductive habits walking past.

Either he was a true saint, or a pervert who only reacted to specific targets.

Aurora leaned toward the latter.

Balian led them through twists and turns to the bath area. He gave his name and title to the attending nun, and in a few words, arranged a premium private room for Aurora.

Afterward, Aurora took the towel and said casually, as if without thinking:

“You’re tired too. Let’s bathe together.”

Balian’s expression instantly cracked.

“Th-this hardly seems appropriate—Miss, I mean, between a man and a woman…”

His ears turned red at a visible speed. His gaze began to waver, his speech stammered, and one hand subconsciously reached for the back of his head.

Aurora was stunned for two seconds.

This guy can blush? Changed his ways?

Then she realized what he was thinking.

‘What the hell, Balian? Is there anything in your head besides dirty thoughts?’

Furious, Aurora punched him on the crown of his head.

“Get your own room! Who said anything about bathing together!”

Balian held his head, let out a relieved yet slightly disappointed “Oh,” and retreated.

Aurora couldn’t be bothered to look at his expression anymore. She turned to the nearby nun:

“Arrange one for him too. Keep an eye on him—he must soak for at least two hours. Don’t let him out until the time is up.”

The nun smiled and nodded.

Thus, Balian was politely “escorted” away by two nuns.

Aurora watched him disappear at the end of the corridor, waited until his footsteps faded completely.

Then her expression suddenly turned extremely vivid.

‘No, can’t laugh. Must hold it in.’

The nun led her and Vapgis through a quiet cloister and pushed open the door to the private room. Inside were white tiles, with an oval stone pool embedded in the center. Steam rose, a few dried petals floated on the water, and the air smelled of citrus and rosemary.

The nun bowed and withdrew. The door clicked shut.

As soon as Vapgis entered, she started chattering.

“You and Balian get along so well.”

She took off her gray coat and draped it over the back of a chair.

“Not really.”

“Balian didn’t even glance at me the whole time. He stared at you the entire way. Treated me like air, even though I’m not that bad-looking…”

“You’re too flat. I think he likes big ones.”

Aurora deliberately thrust out her chest to provoke Vapgis.

“I’m half-elf, I develop slowly! I can still get bigger! Don’t bring that up…”

Vapgis cursed.

She quickly stripped down to just two pieces of underwear and a pair of white cotton stockings.

Just as she was about to continue, she suddenly noticed that Aurora hadn’t moved from the door, still fully dressed.

“Why aren’t you undressing? Embarrassed? Want me to turn around?”

“No.”

Aurora leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“You need to put your clothes back on now.”

“What?”

“Get dressed. We’re leaving. Who said we came to bathe?”

Aurora walked to the window and pushed it open a crack. After the steam dispersed, the view outside was unobstructed—the Saint River glittered under the autumn sun, and in the middle of the river, Saint Island was right there. The massive gray-white fortress on the island was Saint Palace, the residence of the King of Frania.

Also the place where Aurora had been tried recently.

Those smuggler merchants were locked in the palace dungeons.

From this angle, only a stone bridge separated the side gate of Saint Palace from Saint Celestine Cathedral.

“Saint Palace.”

Aurora said.

“The cathedral nuns handle daily prayers, blessings, and cleaning in the palace. They come and go without even being checked—the guards are used to seeing them.”

Vapgis froze for two seconds.

“You mean… disguise as church nuns and infiltrate the dungeon?”

Aurora nodded.

“I told the nuns to watch Balian and not let him out for two hours. We have two hours.”

“Was this all part of your plan? You’re terrifying.”

Vapgis sighed and picked up the clothes she had discarded, putting them back on one by one.

The two muttered a spell under their breath, and a faint golden light flowed over their fingertips. Like water, it cascaded from their heads down, changing their features, hair color, eye color, and even their clothes as it passed.

When the light dissipated, two unfamiliar young nuns stood before the mirror.

Aurora looked down at herself, her expression turning subtle.

The white corset hugged her upper body tightly, revealing the outline of her chest. The black robe’s cut was dignified—if one ignored the high slits running from the ankle to the waist on both sides.

She tried taking a step.

The hem obediently parted, precisely flashing an entire leg through the slit. The sensation of white stockings clinging to her skin was very clear; the garter buckle at the top of her thigh pulled slightly with the movement, the metal clasp lightly pressing against the bare skin.

She looked down again—sure enough, nothing between her waist and hips.

‘So it really is a vacuum design.’

‘I thought there’d be at least something.’

‘Oh well, stay calm. It’s just the result of illusion magic.’

“…”

Aurora expressionlessly closed the hem, deciding to reduce her stride by thirty percent.

She turned to look at Vapgis. The other had also transformed—black hair, black eyes, delicate and plain features, looking every bit a young novice.

They exchanged a glance and nodded simultaneously.

Aurora opened the door of the private room. The two “nuns” walked into the corridor with measured steps, mingling with the black-and-white figures coming and going, and slipped soundlessly out of the cathedral’s side entrance.

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