To Think My Next-Door Nerd is the Tower Master Chapter 8
Hiltein had expected it. His superior was not merely demanding—he was a nightmare given form.
Given his own personality, Hiltein could not utter a single wrong word, no matter how close the knife came to his throat. So he complained instead. Yet whenever the superior fixed him with those cold eyes, cold sweat would trickle down his spine and his hands would tremble.
'If this keeps up, I’ll die.'
One day, while he was seriously considering writing his resignation, the superior suddenly changed without warning.
As if he had been struck by a bullet to the head, he began collecting black robes. His previously sluggish tone and icy demeanor vanished entirely.
And exactly one month ago, he had left the Magic Tower.
'Of all places, he settled right next door to the Weberdin Marquis’s estate.'
And there he was, approaching the Saintess with that disgusting appearance.
Hiltein had no desire to know what terrifying purpose lay behind it.
He simply wanted to escape the doubled workload while the Tower Master was absent.
“So when do you plan to return?”
“I don’t know.”
“…Then who is it, exactly?”
“I’m not the one deciding.”
'What kind of nonsense is this?'
Hiltein’s head felt like it was about to explode. His clothing was about to tear apart.
'I want to quit. I want to quit.'
While barely holding back the urge to shout, Hiltein waited for the next word.
Rien lifted the hem of his robe and roughly ruffled his disheveled hair.
No trace of emotion remained on his face.
'Acting like a gentle lamb, are you?'
Every time the superior revealed his true nature, the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Within this unyielding tension, Hiltein clenched his fists tightly.
“We placed a watcher at the location.”
“I know.”
“…You’ve already dealt with them?”
“Yes.”
“How…?”
Hiltein trailed off, realizing where the superior’s gaze had settled.
A blackened shovel lay in the corner of the room, and beyond the window stretched a field of daisies.
…The watchers had probably already become excellent fertilizer.
He continued his report faithfully, pretending not to notice the horrifying truth.
“As ordered, we’ve kept eyes on them. However, catching their tails won’t be easy. Ah, you moving here directly… perhaps…?”
“W-well, just do your job properly.”
Rien returned to his icy tone and coldly dismissed him.
'Thinking that being vague will make you seem harmless?'
Hiltein was irritated, but he had no intention of becoming the second fertilizer, so he bowed his head in silence.
***
Only when something precious is lost do you truly realize its value.
Inside the swaying carriage.
Cecilia was feeling the preciousness of modern civilization from the twenty-first century with bone-deep intensity—the fact that the primary means of transportation in a world containing both magic and divine power was a carriage.
'In a world with magic and holy power, the main mode of travel being a carriage… does that even make sense?'
She had been prepared for carriage travel, but she had never imagined it would be this unbearable.
Its speed was wretchedly slow, and the motion sickness it induced was severe enough to make her legs wobble.
“Cecilia, you look like you’re about to fall.”
Unlike her, who was dying by the second, Nods closed the book he had been reading and sat opposite her with perfect composure.
“Oh dear, that’s a problem. We’re not even halfway there yet.”
He studied her with worried eyes.
“If you truly can’t endure it, tell me. Walking to the temple is actually impossible, but…”
“…Really?”
“Yes. Just one day of careful walking. No, with your short legs, it would take two days?”
'There was no need to worry.'
Cecilia could already tell that the gentle smile on his lips was mocking her.
'Don’t worry.'
“Bite your tongue and die.”
“Cecilia, your true feelings just slipped out.”
He was deliberately provoking her.
Cecilia turned her head away from the useless older brother and gazed out the window.
Through the hazy glass, lush greenery and a sky of deep azure flowed by unhurriedly.
'What a wonderful day for a walk. What kind of hardship is this?'
The reason she was suffering inside the carriage was simple.
A few days earlier, after meeting the Marquis in the garden, he had made a certain proposal.
[The Alms Festival will soon begin. Before that, we must first pay our respects to His Holiness the Pope.]
[Ah…]
[Especially in this Alms Festival, Cecilia, your role will be crucial.]
His tone was persuasive, but it was in fact an order that could not be refused.
Even though she was still the “fake” Saintess, the Weberdin family’s duties remained.
[I understand.]
On the first day, when she had accepted without much thought, she had secretly been thrilled.
It had been a long time since her last outing, aside from the initial days of her regression.
She had been disappointed when she learned she would have to travel by carriage instead of with her maid, but it was still a blessing that the Holy Land—once the empire’s capital and now the location of the Temple—was close to the Weberdin territory.
Using every ounce of her patience, Cecilia was about to succumb to motion sickness when, like a miracle, the carriage stopped.
“Saintess-nim, young master. We have arrived.”
Before the coachman finished speaking, Cecilia shot upright.
She had no time to descend gracefully with an escort.
'I have to get down immediately!'
Consumed by that single thought, Cecilia flung open the carriage door with a bang and stepped out.
However, she had overlooked two things. First, a large number of priests had come to greet a distinguished guest. Second, her legs were still wobbling from motion sickness.
In front of dozens of people, her unsteady body tilted dangerously.
'I’ll be humiliated.'
With a sad premonition, she tightly closed her eyes.
Yet no pitiful sighs came from the surroundings.
Cecilia, who had collided with something as solid as a wall instead of the muddy ground, opened her eyes in surprise.
“Are you all right?”
A knight with a head one size larger than hers, and an unfamiliar face, firmly supported her.
“Ah, thank you. So….”
“Deputy Commander of the Holy Knights, Miguel.”
“Miguel-nim.”
“Yes, Saintess-nim.”
The silver-haired man answered softly, and his hair swayed in the breeze.
Below him, she looked up into his calm blue eyes like a lake.
Though his features were rough, a gentle softness like blooming petals coexisted with them.
…In short, he had a truly holy appearance.
Cecilia recalled the moment she had first met him.
It had been when several high-ranking priests, including the Pope’s envoys, had visited the Marquis’s estate.
Among the sharp-eyed old men, one man in white armor had radiated an overwhelming presence.
[Melanie, do you see that person?]
[Huh?]
[Wow, maybe this really is from a book.]
At the time, she had been tunneling underground during the early days of her regression, yet his presence had erased all melancholy.
[Miss, I don’t know what you’re saying, but that man is not suitable.]
[No, I wasn’t saying anything…]
Her slip had been so obvious that Cecilia had cleared her throat.
[I just wanted to know his name.]
[I don’t know his name either! He’s a Holy Knight!]
[Why a Holy Knight?]
[Because he has given his body and soul to God.]
[Ah.]
In short, it was like saying, “You can’t eat grapes because they’re for God.”
'My interest vanished instantly.'
Although it was surprising to meet again, that was all.
Cecilia turned her gaze away from the unfamiliar man as if admiring a painting and stepped out of his arms.
“Miguel, you should also take care of the young master, not just the Saintess-nim.”
Nods, who had just descended from the carriage, called the knight with surprising familiarity.
“You know each other, Miguel-nim?”
“Of course. He’s my friend.”
Proudly displaying their closeness, Nods draped his arm around Miguel’s broad shoulder.
“Right?”
“Unfortunately… yes.”
“I misspoken.”
'That doesn’t seem right at all.'
Miguel’s gaze toward Nods felt strangely similar to her own.
A mixture of irritation and contempt.
However, Nods clearly took others’ contempt as a reward. His smiling face suddenly turned sad.
“Our Cecilia is jealous? Don’t worry. Even though you have no friends and couldn’t even get off the carriage properly, I’ll be your family, friends, and everything.”
'If you keep talking like that, I’ll think you’re a real otaku oppa.'
The true meaning behind his words was simply mocking her friendless situation, which was deeply saddening.
“Move.”
Cecilia coldly shoved Nods’s foot, which was stepping on hers.
“Cecilia, it hurts my foot.”
“Good.”
“Move your foot.”
“If you step away from my sight right now.”
Receiving the cold reply, Nods finally fell silent.
Miguel, who had been watching the childish sibling quarrel from the first row, turned his back on Nods as well.
“I heard you came to meet His Holiness the Pope, but I’m sorry to say he is currently meeting with his followers.”
“That’s all right. I can wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
“Thank you for understanding. Then, shall I first take you to the prayer room?”
“Miguel? I said I don’t want to.”
[I understand.]
“Then hold my hand.”
Perhaps because of his earlier clumsy behavior, Miguel suddenly extended his hand.
It seemed he wanted to escort her personally to prevent another fall.
Though she appreciated the consideration, she no longer felt the motion sickness and did not need help.
“I’m fine. I think I can walk alone now… but not really. Yes, please.”
Upon noticing the disappointment on his face, she quickly changed her words.
Placing her hand on his iron-like arm, Miguel finally offered a small smile.
It was the response of a child of God who regarded benevolence and service as the meaning of life.
That she, who was not even the real Saintess, was receiving an escort from the Deputy Commander of the Holy Knights was so overwhelming it was almost burdensome…
However, her personality was not yet so rotten that she would spit on a smiling face.
Fortunately, the prayer room was not far.
Before the door densely decorated with iris and clock flowers, Miguel stopped.