Chapter 18: Re: Lady Pandora Is Too Low-Key! (Patreon)

"This is great — thank you for the meal."

Having torn off a small piece of meat to taste, Pandora was generous with her praise.

She'd also noticed the burned-out firewood scattered across the empty patch of grass nearby.

So they must have been cold, that's why—

"Really? That's wonderful to hear!" At that, everyone — Geuse included — let out a breath of relief.

They'd, in truth, been "scouting the area," grilling meat while the campfire still had some life left in it.

"What is this...?" Right then, Pandora asked the one question they least wanted to answer.

"Lady Pandora, this... is a rabbit we found nearby..." Naturally, that task fell to Geuse.

"And that one over there?" Pandora nodded and pointed at a massive hunk of meat beside it, charred black.

"That's..." No one quite knew what to say.

"Geuse..." Pandora turned to him. "Would you mind explaining why the two were divided up like this?"

"Uh..." The moment Geuse heard her say "would you mind," he knew she was serious.

"I've told you already — I don't need to eat."

She could maintain her current state through her Authority, but the others couldn't — not even the other seven witches.

And Magic Beast meat was awfully hard to choke down.

"All right, there's no need for that, is there?" Walking along the road, Pandora glanced at Geuse beside her. "I'll admit my tone was a little..."

"No, no, no—" At that, Geuse, still sunk in quiet despair a moment ago, waved his hands frantically.

How could he let Pandora — his superior, and one who'd done nothing wrong — apologize to him!

"This subordinate was simply reflecting..." he said, glancing at the cultists watching him.

"Lady Pandora, truly, the Archbishop treats us very well..." one of the cultists spoke up.

"Hah..." Pandora let out a breath. "I'm not criticizing your Archbishop. I'm leading by example."

At those words, everyone froze.

Pandora raised a finger. "A good superior is someone you obey and respect during work hours — and someone you treat with warmth and courtesy off the clock."

"Not someone who gets special treatment."

The above, brought to you by: Golden Quotes from Your Language Teacher.

"Lady Pandora..." At last, the cultists understood why their Archbishop was so gentle and forgiving — it was because their wonderful boss had an even more wonderful boss of his own!

Hearing this, Geuse — who'd been walking along a moment before — suddenly stopped and bowed. "Thank you for the lesson."

"All right, enough of that." Pandora nodded and waved a hand. "Tell me about your plans going forward — what do you have in mind?"

"Mm." Geuse nodded. "From now on, I want to..."

And so, chatting as they walked, the group finally reached their destination just before nightfall.

"So this is..." Looking at the brightly lit cluster of buildings not far off — a small estate perched high on the mountain — Pandora's face showed open surprise.

It wasn't just the estate's scale that struck her, but the hillside beside it, which looked as though some blade had sheared a chunk clean away.

"This place used to be an abandoned village," Geuse explained. "It was Archbishop Capella who funded the renovation, of course."

Geuse had no idea why Capella had chosen to build a branch church out here, but he understood well enough that it must have cost a fortune.

"Ah, her..." For a moment, an image of the "harmonious" Archbishop surfaced in Pandora's mind.

No wonder — within the Witch Cult, two Gluttony Archbishops were "eating" every single day, one of them trapped inside the Corridor of Memories, while another spent her days wanting for nothing at all. The only one actually turning a profit was Lust — Capella, with her assassination ring.

Never mind Pride, who didn't exist yet, or Wrath, whose identity remained unknown. As for Geuse... did he make any money? Honestly, it wasn't an exaggeration — it would count as a victory if he wasn't bleeding money out of his own pocket.

Curious, Pandora and Geuse's group finally reached the front gate of the "estate."

"Archbishop Romanée-Conti." At the sight of the newcomer, the two plainclothes guards stationed at the gate gave a slight bow.

When their eyes drifted to Pandora, they visibly froze.

"And this would be...?"

No wonder — everyone else wore matching church robes, and her bearing was nothing like theirs.

"My name is Pandora." She offered nothing more, explaining herself plainly.

Looks like Regulus never told them, huh...

"Miss Pandora... our apologies..." They'd never once heard that name.

Without Archbishop Capella's explicit order, they wouldn't casually let anyone through — even someone brought along by another Archbishop.

"Archbishop Romanée-Conti, would you mind clarifying this young lady's status first?"

"Of course. This is Lady Pandora — the superior of both myself and Archbishop Capella."

"Huh?!"

Well, seeing the two cultists' faces, Pandora finally understood just how "invisible" her predecessor had truly kept herself.

It seemed things had gone so far that they'd never even heard her name spoken.

Which meant the various Archbishops of the Witch Cult had, evidently, kept quiet about her existence as a matter of course.

"Archbishop Romanée-Conti, it's not wise to joke about something like this."

Since when had their Archbishop Capella ever had a superior? (Absurd, frankly.) And if she did, it'd probably turn out to be some rat — one she'd transformed herself.

"!"

"But..." Geuse, once again reminded of just how low a profile Pandora kept, wanted to say something even through his shock — only for the cultist at the gate to cut him off with a raised hand.

"Our apologies. You and your subordinates may enter, but this young lady..."

Geuse's own cultists bristled with anger, but past experience — and Geuse's own teachings — kept them composed enough not to do anything rash.

"Lady Pandora, this..." Utterly at a loss, Geuse bowed to her, full of apology.

"It's fine. I understand." Pandora nodded.

After all, an "illegal organization" like the Witch Cult — while not yet as infamous as it would become a century later — already carried a poor reputation out in the world.

Simply holding onto a fixed church building was no small feat; the moment they let their guard down, they'd be hunted from every direction.

So letting an unfamiliar visitor through without caution — that would make for a poor guard indeed.

[Author's Note: Thanks to reader "Still Water Surrenders" for the 100 VIP point reward!]