“Has the Dark Lord been behaving over there?” The Pope—Jun Xing-san—propped his chin on the back of his hand and looked at Lott across the round table.

The side effects of the Imperial Scripture on him were almost invisible now. Aside from the half-white hair, his face was still that of a handsome, sharp-featured man. His skin was still tight and elastic, shining with a faint sun‑like golden hue.

Maybe this world didn’t split people into East and West, but there were still three races: white, yellow, and black. This Pope had the handsome features of a white pretty boy, paired with the softer complexion of an East-Asian.

Almost no one could tell he’d lost more than twenty years of his lifespan. Even though mages and warriors lived noticeably longer than normal people, twenty years was still no small thing.

“The Dark Lord’s been very well‑behaved.” The Hero clearly had no idea our protagonist had already slipped away. “I’d like to plead for her. Could we maybe uphold the Church’s spirit of kindness, just strip her of the Dark Lord’s power and spare this child’s life? After all, she doesn’t really have any ambition.”

“Hmm…” The Pope fell silent for a moment. “Archbishops, what do you all think?”

————

I only glanced once at the girl on the chair, and I was already captivated.

Not just by her beauty—though that was part of it—but by the shock of her presence.

She was half‑leaning against the back of the chair, holding a thick half‑closed book in her hands. Her long dress flowed down along the chair like running water, spilling onto the floor. Her cherry‑colored hair looked as if it had been naturally dyed by sakura blossoms, soft and gentle, catching strands of sunlight filtering in through the window. Her iris-colored eyes made you unconsciously think of the dusk sky, tinged with a trace of purple. Skin like set cream, lips brushed with cinnabar, her features were soft and lovely, serene as a maiden in repose.

Every small frown or smile carried a pure kind of beauty. A quietly born sense of holiness wrapped her, giving her an air that brooked no profanation.

It was like she was the daughter of the heavens, the incarnation of nature itself.

Faced with me—the uninvited guest—she only smiled slightly. “Since thou art unwilling to say, then I shan’t force thee.”

With someone whose presence was that lofty, I couldn’t help straightening up as well, even subconsciously smoothing my clothes.

But then a question suddenly popped up in my mind, and I asked in surprise, “You… don’t recognize me?”

She lowered her eyes and thought for a moment, then shook her head. The long bow in her hair swayed gently with the motion. “I don’t. This Princess rarely goes out.” She gave me a slow once‑over. “Are you the little dwarf from the book who lives in the forest?”

Pfft. Her one line almost made me suffer internal injuries. What dwarf is as good‑looking as I am, seriously? Forget it… I was too embarrassed to argue with her. Guys should be generous.

Otherwise I’d really forget I’m a guy.

Technically speaking, this body of mine really was a brat’s body, not developed yet. Which meant I still had room to grow taller.

“Did you eat some magic fruit that keeps you from ever growing up?”

“…”

“Were you cursed by a sorcerer so you’ll never get taller?”

“…”

“Are you… wow, your skin’s so pale. Are you actually a vampire hidden away in the palace?”

“Do I look that old to you?” I finally found a point I could complain about. Wouldn’t a normal person assume I’m just a kid? Why is she so sure I just can’t grow?

“Because,” she pressed her index finger lightly against her lower lip, “your tone doesn’t really sound like a child of this age.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

But my brain quickly caught up. What a scary intuition. I’d barely said a few sentences, and she’d already noticed something off. Still, that way of reading people was certainly… unique.

She had referred to herself as “this Princess” earlier. Could she really be a Princess? I took another look around the room. The soft pink décor felt warm and cozy, without that over‑the‑top royal luxury. There were a few huge bookshelves, though. Never mind how exquisite the shelves themselves were—the shelves were crammed full of books, and at a glance, a lot of them were fairy tales.

So she likes reading fairy tales. No wonder she had those guesses just now. If this were a fairy‑tale world, she’d probably end up omniscient and omnipotent.

But I still couldn’t tell if she had “princess complex” or was an actual Princess.

Maybe she was stalling for time! The thought suddenly startled me.

Who knew, right? An idea popped into my head. “I’ll have you know, I’m the current Dark Lord, you know!”

“Keke, as if.” She lifted the book to cover her mouth and giggled. Her laughter was like pearls falling onto a silver plate, and even the purest narcissus would dim next to her smile.

A pure smile always carries joy with it. A warm feeling rose from deep within my chest.

“I’m not a three‑year‑old,” she said. “Shouldn’t a Dark Lord have long horns and a thin tail, purple‑black skin covered in all sorts of tattoos, with a face like some demonic beast?”

Another blow straight to the heart. If I’m not at least a buff brute I’m apparently letting everybody down now. Whoever wrote those fairy tales—I swear I won’t kill him… maybe.

“Well…” Since she was treating me so sincerely, I couldn’t keep testing her. “I was actually brought back by the Hero.”

That was the honest truth. Really.

“Then you must be the Princess imprisoned by the Dark Lord. Which principality are you from? That’s just too much, grabbing a girl this young and even putting a never‑grow‑up curse on her!”

“Yeah, imprisoning people is awful!” I said angrily. Looked like we’d reached a consensus, even if something about it felt off.

“What do you think about this generation’s Dark Lord?” I quickly changed the topic.

“Pretty pitiful, I guess.” She showed a sympathetic look. “I heard she was suppressed the moment she was born, and now she’s locked up in some lightless place.”

Right, right, the Dark Lord’s so pitiful. Look at how pitiful I am—just let me go already! Not that I could ever say that out loud.

Still, this should count as a relatively safe place. I could recover some power here at least, so I wouldn’t get caught by random townsfolk.

Wait… her logic… was kind of weird.

“Um… if the Dark Lord was caught the moment she was born, then how exactly was I captured by the Dark Lord?” I asked helplessly.

“Maybe…” She thought for a bit. “You were sealed by the previous Dark Lord. Since you don’t want to talk about it, I shouldn’t pry either.” She gave a small, gentle smile. “If you don’t mind, would you chat with me for a while? It gets awfully lonely alone.”

That suited me perfectly. I nodded.

She glanced around the room. “Sorry, I don’t have a spare chair. Just sit on my bed.”

“My own intel’s pretty limited too…” Even though it was a girl’s bed, now wasn’t the time to get all shy. I walked over and sat straight down at the edge of the bed. Only then did I notice the bed was covered in plushies. “I wanted to ask, what kind of Church is the Church, exactly?”