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After driving off the Rock Apes, monsters that had captured adventurers, buried them in the ground up to their necks, and danced strange rituals around them, we paused to take stock of the situation.

“Aren’t you going to finish them off?”

Pointing at the fleeing forms of the monsters—who were shambling away after being hit by my magic from a safe distance—Coppelia asked with a curious look.

If I gave her the go-ahead, I knew her arm would shoot out with a swoosh and land a finishing blow in no time.

“I’ve already locked onto them, so there’s no way they could escape from this range.”

Yup, she’s all into killing them.

“Hmm… Ideally, that might be the right thing to do, but they don’t seem like monsters that kill humans. Giving them a bit of a lesson like this should be enough to deter them, don’t you think?”

Even as I said it, I knew my response was a bit naïve—perhaps even indecisive. Still, I’m not one to resort to killing indiscriminately unless there’s a solid justification for it. …Unless there was a valid cause, in which case I wouldn’t hesitate.

Hearing my response, Cestlavie looked as though he had something to say but held his tongue. That was when Sechs, sitting at his feet, pawed at him as if to urge him on, making it clear that he should hurry up and rescue the adventurers. With an utterly reluctant expression, he clicked his tongue in frustration, tossed a magic talisman onto the ground near the adventurers, and quickly used earth magic to raise the ground, freeing them.

Cestlavie may have been reluctant to care for Sechs in the beginning, but over time, it feels as though they’ve become an oddly good pair. Sechs, which was small enough to fit in my hand a year ago, has now grown to about twenty times that size. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if it eventually grew to the size of a dragon—maybe in thirty years or so.

Meanwhile, Coppelia’s gaze wandered over to the adventurers. Freed from the ground by Cestlavie’s magic, their bald heads gleamed as they sat slumped on the ground. She looked them over as if appraising them, her gaze analytical.

“Hmm, hmm,” she murmured, nodding to herself.

If this had been a normal situation, my soft-hearted remarks about sparing the monsters might have earned indignant protests from the adventurers, their anger boiling over as they voiced their objections. But unfortunately for them, the lingering effects of the paralysis poison, coupled with the trauma they’d suffered, left them utterly drained. They remained collapsed on the ground, still stuck in the kind of daze that could only be described as post-nut clarity.

“Understood, Lady Clara. Well, I suppose there’s no real harm done since no one is injured. …Though, they did lose all their hair, didn’t they… heh.”

Coppelia exhaled dismissively, shrugging her shoulders with an air of condescension.

“What did you just say, huh!?”

The man, seemingly the leader of the group and sporting a thick black beard, growled with indignation. He clearly couldn’t let her remark slide. Incidentally, his current hairstyle involved the sides of his head shaved clean, with a lightning-patterned strip left on the sides.

“What do you mean, ‘no harm done!? Look at us—just look at the state we’re in!”

Furious, the black-bearded leader grabbed a fistful of multicolored, uprooted hair from the ground around him, holding it up as evidence.

The sight of a robust adventurer—well over thirty—yelling at a young maid who looked half his age was, frankly, a little unbecoming. But it was clear he didn’t have the composure to care about appearances.

Coppelia deliberately averted her gaze.

“Oh my, what a pity. It’s so awful I can’t even bear to look directly.”
“You little—don’t laugh at me!”

The man, enraged, stood up and tried to grab her, but I quickly placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he could go any further.

“Now, now, please calm yourself. And Coppelia, kindly refrain from provoking him further.”

To help pacify the adventurers, I pulled a water pitcher from Close. Pouring cool, fresh water into plain clay cups I’d also stored away, I handed them out to the group. Luckily, we had plenty of utensils left over from the communal meal we prepared a few days ago, so there was no shortage.

As they began gulping down the water, asking for refills with visible thirst, I passed the pitcher directly to them. After that, with their permission, I conducted a quick check of their physical conditions.

“It seems the poison is plant-based. That should make it fairly simple to neutralize. As for the minor scrapes, closing the wounds improperly might trap bacteria and lead to tetanus. It’d be better to apply some ointment and let them heal naturally.”

Explaining this, I pulled out a small jar of homemade ointment. The almost-clear, colorless substance glistened as I scooped a bit out with my fingertip. “Now then, please take off your clothes.”

“ “ “ “ “ “ “ “EH??!!” ” ” ” ” ” ” ”

“Hm? We need to apply the ointment to all of your wounds for proper treatment. Surely you understand—even sparrows living in urban areas are sometimes referred to as ‘flying sewer rats,’ which tells you that animals are rife with bacteria. Let alone wild monsters—overlooking even a small scratch could prove fatal. That’s why it’s necessary to strip down completely and examine every inch of your body.”

“ “ “ “ “ “ “ “NO NO NO NO!” ” ” ” ” ” ” ”

For some reason, the adventurers stiffened like timid girls, frantically shaking their heads in denial.

“Pretty sure it’s unethical for a shrine maiden to strip men naked and directly touch them in the open,” Cestlavie muttered quietly.

“This is a medical procedure, so there is no issue.”
“It’s absolutely not okay! Your eyes will rot if you see something that grotesque, Lady Clara! And if you carelessly touch these greasy men, you’ll get pregnant from the contact!”

Coppelia protested fiercely, her eyebrows knit in anger.

“That… seems a little far-fetched,” I said, tilting my head as I gently refuted her absurd claim—a belief so ridiculous that even a novice nun of single-digit age wouldn’t believe it.

“Naive! It’s the kind of naivety that’s like planting a candy in the ground hoping it will grow into a candy tree. This is a perfect opportunity to properly educate you on their base instincts. Sit down. Meanwhile, those fools can handle the treatment themselves—somewhere out of sight, of course.”
“ “ “ “ “ “ “ “Eh……” ” ” ” ” ” ” ”

I groaned along with the rest of the group, our dissatisfaction apparent.

With a deep scowl, Cestlavie begrudgingly picked up the jar of ointment, herding the adventurers behind a nearby boulder. Meanwhile, I sat down and was subjected to an exhaustive lecture from Coppelia about how men are barbaric, lustful beasts, and nocturnal predators.

As for the adventurers whose heads had been shaved, I treated them with antidotes, applied some Amrita, and attempted a recently learned healing art for restoring lost body parts. Although the results weren’t dramatic, soft peach fuzz began to sprout on their scalps. I informed them that with a few more treatments, their hair would likely grow back completely, which brought them to tears of gratitude.

“Lady Clara, we’ll follow you for life! We’ll even join your fan club!”

Surrounded by a group of burly adult men who looked at me with strangely sparkling eyes as they spoke, I responded with a somewhat strained smile. A fan club? What even is that? I couldn’t help but think as I tried to keep my composure.

On that note, I found myself wondering why they all seemed to know my name—or rather, Clara’s name. When I asked, they replied:

“Nowadays, any commoner or adventurer in the Holy City who doesn’t know about Lady Clara is a total outsider.”
“Exactly! Your nobility shines through in how you offer aid to everyone, whether they’re commoners, slaves, or demi-humans.”
“And your reserved demeanor and graceful elegance!”
“Not to mention your unparalleled beauty and figure!”
“No, no, it’s more than just your looks. You embody the very ideal of a shrine maiden, with your delicate charm and ethereal presence. Not to forget your words and actions that seem ever so slightly detached from worldly concerns!”
“You truly are the Shrine Maiden Princess, Lady Clara!”

They passionately sang my praises.

“—Even being an airhead can sound flattering, depending on how you spin it.” Hearing this, Cestlavie muttered an audacious remark under his breath.

I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard that and, feeling a bit embarrassed from being praised so directly, sought to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Oh no, I just happened to pass by, really. If you must give thanks, save it for Cestlavie, who brought me here, and to fate itself.”

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