A Spur of the Moment

Inside the tent, Yaxiu and Vichy locked eyes. The air had just been thick with the intimate, melting warmth of ambiguity, but now the atmosphere had abruptly turned comical. "You didn't bypass the Gospel God? Then tomorrow, as soon as everyone checks the Gospel God's log, they'll discover you snuck in to see me tonight." Yaxiu was incredulous. "Breaking the rules is at most a moral issue, but breaking them without any preparation at all is an IQ issue!" Vichy's lips twitched slightly, as if she too felt embarrassed. She buried her head beside Yaxiu's neck to hide her face and snapped in vexation, "How could the Gospel God be so easy to crack?! Don't make it sound like it's a walk in the park!" "But you're the Spectre Prophet, a Demigod of Prophecy! After all these days, you still haven't managed it?!" Yaxiu pinched Vichy's cheek. "Have you been slacking off all this time?" Yaxiu genuinely didn't believe Vichy couldn't crack it. After all, neither the Sword Princess, the Witch, nor the Silver Lantern possessed prophecy sorcery, yet each had found analogous workarounds to bypass the Gospel God's power. Gods were ultimately manifestations of rules, and what sorcerers excelled at most was breaking rules and exploiting loopholes. Vichy not only commanded prophecy sorcery, but her realm of sorcery was bound to be the highest in the entire group. Up to this point, the demigod status of the Sword Princess and the others remained somewhat nominal. To help them summon gods during the demigod promotion ceremony, Yaxiu had relied on the power of the Supreme Tail Feather to artificially inflate their foundations. That was the only reason they had vaulted over the legendary boundary into the divine realm. Compared to a normal demigod, the Sword Princess and the others were like tender freshmen who hadn't even undergone university orientation drills yet. And Vichy? Anyone could question her morals, but no one could question her strength—a veteran demigod from three thousand years ago, the final master of the Dream Heaven, someone who had struck terror across Hell despite never possessing a god in her entire life. She was undeniably a top-tier, maxed-out graduate. If tender freshmen could finish the assignment, how could an honors graduate with a maxed-out GPA fail to solve it? She had definitely been slacking off! Vichy kept her head buried and refused to answer, looking just like a Lalafell squatting with its head held in its hands. Yaxiu kneaded her cheeks and urged, "We finally have a safe period to cultivate, and they're all progressing by leaps and bounds. Stop playing with your schemes and conspiracies, and use this time to settle down and build up your foundation—" "I didn't slack off," Vichy mumbled in a muffled voice. "I've made plenty of progress these days too... though maybe not as much as the Sword Princess and the others." "Then why haven't you cracked the Gospel God?" "There wasn't enough time." "All these days weren't enough?" Vichy finally grew impatient. Swatting Yaxiu's hand away, she propped her hands on the bed and straightened her back, looking down at him from above, her proud bust pressing forward imperiously. Yaxiu hardly dared to twitch; he felt that if he breathed even slightly harder, his breath would brush against that soft, snowy-white bounce. "Why on earth should I have planned to crack the Gospel God so many days ago?" Vichy said with an annoyed pout. "I didn't crack it, so I didn't! Why do you keep harping on it?" "Because you came looking for me tonight," Yaxiu replied, turned around on his heels to the point where he wondered if he was the one at fault. "Since you wanted to sneak in to see me, of course you should have prepared from the start..." "I never intended to sneak in to see you in the first place!" Vichy turned her head away, muttering, "I'm not love-struck like those girls, acting like they can't live without a man..." Yaxiu looked bewildered. "Then why did you come tonight?" Now Vichy fell silent. Straddling the sorcerer's waist, the maid looked down and began tracing circles on Yaxiu's chest with her finger, as if playing a fascinating little game, or perhaps hoping Yaxiu would let the topic slide. But Yaxiu's head was entirely occupied with figuring out how to persuade her to leave. Having caught this opening, he naturally wasn't going to let it pass. "Since you didn't plan on coming to see me, you can leave right now. Even if you bent the rules a little, I'll explain to them tomorrow. At most, they'll consider it a minor infraction. I'm sure they won't mind." Yaxiu was utterly certain that if Vichy left now, everyone would forgive her slight crossing of the line—after all, every single person entitled to forgive her was currently hiding inside his wardrobe as a war criminal who had trampled over every single rule. The elf maid raised an eyebrow and looked faintly at her master. Yaxiu urged, "Go on, hurry. Didn't you say you didn't want to come see me? You have no reason to stay here." "...I did." "Huh?" "I suddenly wanted to tonight! Is that not allowed?" Vichy bit her lower lip and slowly leaned down, lying flat against Yaxiu, her haughty soul finally bowing its head at this moment. "I didn't want to at first! I didn't want to the whole time! For the past few days I could hold it back, but tonight I suddenly wanted to—can't I?! I thought I could hold out until tomorrow morning when everyone woke up, but come midnight I still couldn't fall asleep... It was just a spur of the moment! It wasn't some premeditated conspiracy! How could I have had time to crack the Gospel God? Can't you be reasonable, you bastard!" By the end, she had genuinely grown angry, and she bit down hard on Yaxiu's neck. Yaxiu stared blankly at the petulant, pouting elf maid. This seemed to be the first time he had ever seen Vichy lose her temper... Even when she was being targeted by the Sword Princess and the Witch before, Vichy had always been all smiles, brimming with confidence, never showing a single second of negative emotion. Perhaps she felt wronged or angry at times too, but she would never let anyone else see it. To her, an uncontrolled emotional outburst was nothing short of voluntarily exposing her own weakness, telling others what she cared about and what she feared... Only an ever-calm, ruthless Spectre Prophet without weaknesses could shatter the courage of every potential enemy. From the moment she entered, Vichy's demeanor had been strange, giving Yaxiu the impression of a ferocious, terrifying monster that suddenly rolled over and let someone scratch its belly. He had thought his own condition was severe enough, but looking at it now, Vichy was the biggest victim of the abstinence plan—she couldn't even maintain her persona as the Spectre Prophet in front of Yaxiu anymore. She had stripped off all her armor, exposing her soft underbelly. Yaxiu had assumed that after enduring the previous three battles, he would be somewhat tired and spent, able to easily harden his heart and turn Vichy away. But now he discovered to his sorrow that Vichy had completely rekindled his battle-worn body before its heat had even cooled—and what had hardened was definitely not his heart. Now, not only Vichy, but even Yaxiu felt rather embarrassed. He hurriedly shifted his focus. "Then how did you know today was my birthday?" "Today is your birthday?" Vichy blinked, hesitating for a moment before offering, "...Happy birthday?" "You didn't even know?!" "How would I know? Did you ever tell me?" "You could have asked the Sword Princess and the others—" "Yaxiu," Vichy looked at him speechlessly. "I am the Spectre Prophet, a millennial demigod! I've lived for so long—do you really think I'd care about a meaningless personal occasion like a birthday? Besides, I never celebrated birthdays growing up. Why on earth would you think I'd care about yours?" "Furthermore, you're an immortal demigod now, yet you're still celebrating birthdays? Don't you think you're being a bit childish?" Yaxiu supposed she had a point. The Sword Princess and the others were his peers, so they still cared about mundane mortal holidays. But Vichy had ceased to be mortal ages ago; how could she possibly be interested in such mundane tastes? "Maybe it is a little childish," he admitted candidly. "Still, if someone remembers my birthday and celebrates it with me, it makes me really happy." Vichy glanced at him, lowering her eyelids, lost in thought. "Vichy, when is your birthday?" "Why are you asking?" "I command you to tell me." Yaxiu didn't hold back on trivial matters like this; his authority as master was absolute! "In my era, a year was three hundred days, whereas nowadays a year is three hundred and sixty days—" "Out with it!" "I'm afraid you'll use my birthday to curse me—" "Would I need your birthday to curse you?" Vichy bit her lower lip, still unwilling to say it aloud. Instead, she whispered in Yaxiu's ear, "On my birthday, I'll sneak over to celebrate with you. Will that do?" Yaxiu was still dissatisfied. "Couldn't you just tell me straight out..." "April 10th." "Hm?" "Your birthday. I've committed it to memory." A faint peach flush tinted Vichy's cheeks, and she huffed softly. "Once I break free of my chains, I'll use your birthday to curse you." "And before you break free?" "...I'll celebrate with you, and let you stay childish forever."