22. Beren, who’d visited a brothel once, seemed to have serious misgivings about such “pleasure quarters.”

Ever since we found a quiet spot to sit and let Lorian start “gathering material,” Beren guarded us like a mother hen protecting her chicks.

Yet she looked the most nervous and scared of all.

“L-listen up, you two! Even on holiday, as academy students—especially high-born ones—coming here is wrong!”

“This disreputable place is full of... u-unclean, undisciplined humans. You stay one hour max, then return with me, your teacher!”

“I, your teacher, only came once and felt...”

Lorian suddenly looked up, blinking with wide, innocent eyes.

“Teacher, you’ve been to a brothel? But aren’t you the Discipline Elder?”

In the dim light, I saw the Elf’s face flush apple-red.

“N-no... that was o-official business! Investigating discipline issues doesn’t count as visiting! I-I’m an Elf! I’ve had a b-boyfriend for ages! Why would I come here to ease loneliness!?”

Boyfriend!?

These days, Beren, you’ve acted like a heartbroken girl who can’t move on!

More importantly, I clearly remember rejecting your confession that night with “sorry,” not “I like you too.”

Before I could speak, Beren had already fantasized a whole “happy romance.”

“Ah~ He was a true gentleman, totally unlike a certain demonic guy.”

Beren shot me a glare.

That “gentleman” was me in men’s clothing.

“We became lovers a few nights ago. He gently held me, his warm body comforting my lonely heart. The first time hurt a little, but seeing his sweet sleeping face at dawn filled me with joy...”

Beren smirked at Lorian, the Elf even fooling herself.

“K-kids like you wouldn’t understand ‘adult pleasures’ anyway.”

How could we!? That “lover” should’ve rejected you and gone home!

Where did you spend that “passionate night”—in dreams!?

Beren’s fantasy felt vivid, like lived experience. I knew it was lies, but Lorian didn’t.

Her expression turned jealous, then she gave me a resentful glance.

“Really, teacher? You seem like an Elf destined to be alone forever.”

“Guh... T-true! Honest Elves don’t lie about this!”

Pushed by doubt, Beren doubled down.

“H-he has black hair, not muscular but my type. His looks... if dressed well, he might even surpass Elves in... huh?”

Beren fell silent.

Stuck in her lie? Just admit it—we won’t laugh.

...

As I planned to smooth things over, unfriendly voices cut in.

“Found her!”

“That Elvenfolk woman! Easy to spot!”

Several men surrounded us, grinning maliciously.

Unlike pleasure-seekers, I spotted their half-baked martial arts skills.

Ah, thugs sent by that beaten “young master” for revenge.

“The caring butler—Alisha Da—isn’t here. So you’re after Beren?”

I desperately signaled the madam nearby—she’d noticed but feigned ignorance, replying with a sly smile.

She recognized me!? Yet won’t help!?

Big sister! I’m in a fluttery dress—are you forcing fanservice!?

“You’re that Elf who refused the toast days ago?”

The leader pinched his sleeve, hiding something shiny.

“Want to keep that pretty face intact? Come quietly.”

Tsk. No choice.

I stood, shielding Lorian, and reached for Beren—but this Elf chose now to show “teacherly duty.”

She’d spotted their weapons; the harder I pushed forward, the more she shoved my head back.

“J-just behave! Stop troubling your teacher, idiot!”

Who’s troubling whom!? Your legs are shaking! Drop the “model teacher” act—hide behind a man like Lorian!

...Though I felt oddly touched.

Beren spread her arms: “F-fine! But spare these two kids behind me.”

Mocking laughter erupted.

“Heh? Boss, those girls are nice too—take ’em to the young master?”

“Hey! Humans! They’re unrelated! Waa! Arisa, what are you doing!?”

I sighed, yanking Beren behind me.

“The Hero handles this. You Elf, watch quietly.”

Idiot Elf... couldn’t you let me stay moved longer?

Betraying teammates like this? By protecting us so openly, you’ve drawn their attention to Lorian and me too.

How did you become Discipline Elder...

I scanned the crowd. A big scene here might expose Lorian’s identity.

Better settle this somewhere quiet.

Lorian and I exchanged a glance.

“Sure~ Takeout’s fine too.”

I pulled her close; she flirtatiously twirled her hair.

With our charms, no man stays “unhooked.”

“Takeout for two: 500. Overnight: 2000. Your pick?”

Lorian beamed a “pure” smile—they’d see it as batting eyelashes.

“I’m curious about your ‘young master’ too. Teacher Beren, stop spacing out—follow me!”