Listening to the Pope's incessant rambling, Fiammetta knew by intuition alone that this matter was bound to be a massive headache.
She might have to deal with that old fox Wei Yenwu because of them, all while trying her best to prevent too many people from associating the identity of the Laterano Saint with her... Just thinking about it made her feel a strange sense of mental exhaustion. An urge to hang the Pope from the cathedral's cross and whip him repeatedly began to sprout in her normally peaceful heart.
"Can't you give me some easier missions? Even if I'm your subordinate, this is blatant exploitation! I even have to divide my attention to keep an eye on Mostima..."
The poor red-haired Liberi felt that in the coming period, the hair and feathers on her body would fall out at a rate visible to the naked eye... and she had no solution for it. She could only face her boss—whose logic was somewhat abnormal—while working diligently and hoping for a vacation that had been delayed for who knows how long.
"Relax, relax. This mission is actually quite easy for you. Perhaps you only need to go and meet them. I estimate the Saint can handle her own affairs."
Faced with the Pope's consolation, the Liberi could only tentatively believe he was telling the truth. The hand she used to rub her forehead was nearly carving a permanent wrinkle into her brow. What else could she do? Was she supposed to drive back to Laterano right now and pick a fight with that dead old man?
"If you have nothing else, I'll hang up now. Just send me the information on that guard in a moment. As for everything else, I will handle it properly."
After pacing around the room a few more times, Fiammetta couldn't help but sigh. She intended to end the communication. Since the old man on the other end had stopped making fun of her, the serious business was likely finished. She didn't want to hear that old man's voice for even another second.
"That Laterano guard will contact you proactively. Moreover, you definitely know that Sankta's information very well. As for who it is, you'll find out when the time comes."
The Pope's tone suggested he was enjoying the show, indicating he had no intention of telling her the specific details. However, based on her understanding, the Pope wouldn't make such brainless jokes on truly important matters. Thus, it didn't really matter if she knew the guard's information yet or not.
As for the specific reason, Shimmering Vigil couldn't guess it for now. But she had no intention of bickering with him over such small things anymore, so she hung up the communicator directly.
"Shimmering Vigil, hmm? Savoring it carefully, it really is a fine name! It seems the Pope truly went to great lengths to give you a better codename!"
Just after she hung up, Fiammetta suddenly heard a slightly playful voice. The voice was accompanied by the sound of footsteps coming from behind her.
She wasn't surprised at all by the presence of someone behind her. Fiammetta simply turned around and looked blankly at the person who had appeared there at some unknown time.
It was a blue-haired Sankta, but her halo and wings had turned black; she had become a Fallen Angel. Even stranger was that this Fallen Angel possessed racial characteristics of the Sarkaz! This was extremely rare on Terra. Under normal circumstances, even if two people of completely different races had a child, the child would only inherit the traits of one parent, not both. It was like no one had ever heard of a Feline growing the rabbit ears of a Cautus on their head.
"Mostima! If you think the codename he gave is so good, I can go ask the Pope to get one for you right now. Since when were you eavesdropping?"
She was already this miserable, yet this smiling Fallen Angel still had the nerve to tease her! That was the last straw. If it weren't for her, why would she have been sent to Lungmen in the first place? If she wasn't in Lungmen, she wouldn't have taken this mission, and if she hadn't taken this mission, she wouldn't have been given such a shameful codename...
"Since when? I was outside from the moment he said, 'Speak up, I can't hear you.' But I used a few little tricks to keep you from noticing. Don't worry about the details."
At this moment, Mostima felt a sense of "pleasure" welling up from her heart. Her smile now was completely genuine.
"Come on, keep talking! Believe it or not, if you say one more word, I'll bring this shield down on you and make sure you don't see tomorrow's sun."
Fiammetta glared at Mostima with wide eyes, reaching out to pick up her shield resting nearby. Her posture suggested that if Mostima continued, she would use the shield to "liberate" this Fallen Angel and send her to the Lord's side for re-education.
"Calm down, calm down. Serious business is more important, isn't it? How about I help you handle those chores so you can rest for a few days before the Saint arrives? Consider it a vacation."
Seeing her old friend on the verge of an explosion, Mostima stopped poking her fragile and sensitive nerves. Instead, she offered to take over the most annoying tasks—the mountain of trivial chores that needed to be finished quickly because the Saint's arrival had disrupted their plans.
"If you hadn't insisted on running to the snowfields, would I be this busy? None of you ever give me a break. Even the Captain... she hasn't written to me in days."
Fiammetta tossed her shield aside and sat down listlessly, complaining about her unreliable teammates. Especially that red-haired girl—ever since she wrote saying her body had recovered, she hadn't received a single letter. She had no idea how she was doing.
"The snowfield matter can be put aside; I haven't found a suitable mission yet. But hasn't Lemuen contacted you lately? Did she have too much fun on some mission and forget about you?"
Despite her casual words, Mostima took note of the situation regarding Lemuen. She planned to see if she could use Emperor's intelligence network to look for her once she got back. But did she really go on a mission? Even if Laterano is short-staffed, they wouldn't send a newly recovered casualty, right? That old man the Pope isn't that black-hearted... is he?
"You can put the snowfield aside, but I can't! For some reason, mission approval for the Ursus snowfields has become extremely strict lately—it's insane!"
Whenever she thought of the approval staff, she grit her teeth in frustration. Given how maniacal the approval process was, if she didn't know these were orders from above, she would have thought they were doing it specifically to mess with her.
"It's possible she hasn't finished her work yet. But I have a premonition—maybe we'll run into the Captain soon!"
As she said this, it was as if an LED lightbulb lit up above Fiammetta's head. Even Mostima couldn't understand where that sudden inspiration had come from.