Chapter 19: You're Telling Me This Is 8 Years Old?!
Just as Steven had predicted, once Irene understood the purpose behind the plan and led him and Gladiia out of the village, the pitch-black mass of flesh immediately shifted direction and began pursuing them.
Along the way, Steven behaved far too obediently—so much so that Irene, who was clearing the path ahead, grew increasingly confused.
If it were any other suspect, wouldn't this kind of chaos be the perfect opportunity to escape? So why did this guy look like he didn't care at all?
With the way Steven was acting, he looked less like a criminal being escorted during a breakout and more like a rich young master out on a leisurely stroll. Irene felt less like an inquisitor and more like a free bodyguard hired to ensure his safety.
"Hey—have you stared enough already?" she finally snapped, unable to take it anymore as she noticed Steven's gaze fixed on the lantern in her hand. "We're still in danger, you know. Could you at least try to be a little more serious?"
Behind them, the overwhelming pressure of the Sea Terrors charging in a dark tide was intense. Irene didn't dare slow down even slightly.
Fortunately, Steven didn't need her to pull him along at all. She didn't even have to waste any extra attention worrying that he might run away.
As for the white-haired Ægir girl under Steven's care, there was even less to worry about.
Despite her gentle, fragile appearance, once she started running, it felt like she might take off straight into the air if she weren't deliberately holding back for Steven's sake.
These two…
Every single one of them is weird.
Whether it was their personalities or their terrifying physical abilities, neither of them felt remotely normal.
Were they monsters or something?
"I'm not even looking at you," Steven replied casually, finally shifting his gaze away from the lantern, just as Irene complained. "Why are you so worked up? Or what, do inquisitors consider these lanterns part of their bodies? Does looking at it count as invading your privacy?"
True to Irene's description, Steven wore an expression as relaxed as if he were on a picnic.
To be honest, she is kind of cute, but compared to her, Steven was far more interested in the lantern she was holding.
He'd been staring at it for quite a while now, yet he still couldn't tell how it was any different from an ordinary lantern. And yet, she and that High Inquisitor had managed to use this thing alone to repel those monsters.
If only his own torches could do that.
Unfortunately, torches in his world only prevented mobs from spawning. And clearly, the mobs in this world didn't just pop into existence out of thin air like in Minecraft.
Which meant his torches probably wouldn't do much at all.
That just made the lantern's effect even more tempting.
If possible, he would really like Irene to share the crafting recipe for it.
"You should at least pay attention to the situation!" Irene shot back angrily. "Do you have any idea what'll happen if I run out of strength and can't keep using the lantern—and those Sea Terrors catch up to us?!"
If time allowed, Irene would have loved to crack open Steven's skull and see exactly what was rattling around inside.
"Huh? This thing consumes energy too?" Steven blinked. Instantly, half the curiosity drained from his eyes. "Then it's not perpetual… that makes it way less appealing."
"That's what you're focusing on?!"
Irene was on the verge of being driven mad. Her breathing grew ragged with anger.
"Then what should I be focusing on?" Steven replied calmly. "You're talking like you're terrified of those cannon-fodder mobs behind us. I'm not scared. Are you?"
Despite not wearing so much as a single piece of iron armor, Steven still couldn't bring himself to take the tide-like horde of monsters seriously.
Cannon fodder was still cannon fodder, no matter how many there were. At most, it was just a question of how much time it would take to deal with them.
"Dad, I'm not scared either," Gladiia chimed in at just the right moment.
She jogged along beside Steven, smiling with her eyes narrowed in delight, looking exactly like a child who had learned all the bad habits from him.
"Good girl," Steven said, patting her head and gently pulling her behind him. "But saying that will make this auntie feel awkward…"
Mocking Irene himself was one thing. Gladiia piling on too? If Irene's mentality actually snapped and she decided to teach him a lesson in the dark, that would be troublesome.
"A… auntie?"
Irene stumbled mid-run. All the damage Steven had dealt to her so far combined didn't even come close to how devastating that single word was.
"Kids don't know any better," Steven added cheerfully, clearly enjoying himself. "They just say whatever comes to mind. Why are you taking it so seriously?"
Irene stopped and turned back, staring at Gladiia with a completely blank expression.
Because Gladiia was so tall and slender, Irene actually had to tilt her head up just to see her face clearly.
This is a kid?
You've got to be kidding me.
"Why are you staring at her like that?" Steven immediately stepped in front of Gladiia like an overprotective mother hen. "Mental age of 8 is still 8, right? No problem there."
If anything, he was probably overestimating Gladiia. Whether her mental age even reached 8 was still very much up for debate.
Irene clenched her small fists.
For the first time in her life, she felt a completely irrational urge to beat someone senseless—and that urge was rapidly growing stronger.
"…Forget it," she said at last, forcibly suppressing her emotions and regaining her composure. "Since you think those monsters behind us aren't a threat, then if we fail to rendezvous with the Penal Battalion, you take your companion and leave. I'll stay behind and cover you."
She wasn't afraid of the Sea Terrors.
The real problem was that she had no idea how much longer she could maintain the light of the lantern.
Perhaps Steven was right, she didn't mind fighting those monsters. But if she did, she would inevitably be slowed down. And that was clearly what the Sea Terrors wanted.
On top of that, the Penal Battalion that was supposed to be waiting nearby to support her and her superior was nowhere to be seen. It was hard not to worry that something had gone wrong.
No matter what, if the enemy's true target really was Steven and his companion, then she absolutely could not let their scheme succeed.
"Huh?" Steven raised an eyebrow. "Aren't I still a suspect? You're just letting me go like that?"
He was genuinely surprised. He'd thought she would be the rigid, by-the-book type. Instead, she turned out to be surprisingly reasonable.
His impression of the Inquisition improved a bit more.
"The Inquisition's true enemies are the Church of the Deep and whatever lurks behind them," Irene said calmly. "Stopping their schemes is my duty."
She paused for a moment, clearly reluctant, before adding the rest.
"And besides…"
"…You may be strange," she admitted quietly, "but at least you don't seem like a bad person. I trust my judgment."
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M