I managed to slip out of the arena and return to my lodging before the commotion could escalate.
I needed to change my armor and take a leisurely look at the rewards I had received.
Ah, the status window—a glorious sight. Anyone who’s inhabited another’s body should have the right to check their growth through a status window. Yet here I was, feeling oddly grateful just to open it.
With mixed feelings, I took a deep breath, closed the door, and settled myself at the desk, eager to finally see how much I had grown. Based on my physical abilities, I should have leveled up quite a bit.
Just as I was about to record my findings on paper and open my status window—
The door flew open.
“Lucy! My darling girl! This papa knew you’d win all along!”
Benedict burst into the room, enveloping me in his massive arms.
He went on about how proud he was, how he worried what would happen if I left his side, and how he ought to raise a toast in my honor.
Watching Benedict babble on, I felt irritation bubble up, but I couldn’t voice it. His hug was so tight I could hardly breathe.
Realizing he might actually squeeze me to death, I urgently tapped his arm, and finally, he loosened his hold.
“Apologies, Lucy! This papa was just... so overjoyed!”
Despite his apology, the grin never left his face. Was he truly that thrilled about my victory?
I’ve never hesitated to shoot a sharp retort at a smiling face, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything harsh to Benedict right now.
So, as I kept my mouth shut, Benedict chuckled, hoisted me up, and perched me on his shoulder.
“Let’s go celebrate, Lucy!”
‘But I really shouldn’t be out in public right now!’
“Oh, Father, I’d rather not go listen to random losers gossiping about me.”
I’d just caused quite a stir in the arena; going out now would only make people stare!
I yelled with all my might, but Benedict was immovable.
“Haha! Don’t worry about it!”
Seriously, what was with him today? He’d come from the arena, so he must have seen the crowd’s reaction—he couldn’t be that oblivious!
Did he calm things down by force, leaving people unable to say anything? That would only make going out worse! I was sure I’d be greeted with a barrage of glares!
Even though I wriggled and squirmed, there was no way I could escape his grasp. Despite all my training, I couldn’t compete with Benedict’s strength.
Grr... Just you wait, Benedict. Once I’m stronger than you, I’ll live just as recklessly!
Though I did have one option—using words to sink his mood, like I did before.
But then again, I considered how he must’ve worked to calm the crowd after my little debacle in the arena. Laying into him with insults felt a bit wrong.
Plus, the memory of him slumped and tearful was still fresh.
So, letting Benedict carry me out into the streets, I steeled myself for the hostile glares I was sure to receive. But the atmosphere was unexpectedly warm.
Strange. After the chaos I caused, you’d think even Benedict’s presence wouldn’t keep people from murmuring and glaring.
Even if no one dared to say anything, surely some looks would be unfriendly. Yet all I saw were approving smiles and nods.
<Heh. This country’s norms are clearly out of whack.>
‘Why are you suddenly laughing?’
<Listen to what they’re saying around you, and you’ll understand.>
Around me? Curious, I directed my divine power to my hearing, allowing the distant murmurs to filter in.
“Did you hear? The angel gave another harsh blessing today.”
“They say they’re all perverts who couldn’t say a word back after being beaten by a little girl?”
“Hah! That sounds just like our angel.”
“And didn’t she walk off without listening to a word of what they said afterward?”
“That’s true? Hahaha, an angel with a rough tongue but shy—how adorable.”
...What? What was this? I’d heard they thought I’d caused a mess, but instead of condemning my harsh words, they found it amusing? Were they like that flirtatious fox or that perverted apostle?
Hoping these people were just an odd bunch, I turned my attention to another group nearby. But their reactions were similarly accepting.
“She’s nothing like those Sandaline scholars. Just what you’d expect from the daughter of Count Allen.”
“The strong ought to have a certain arrogance. No doubt about it.”
“Winning the arena at her age... she’s allowed to have a bit of a temper, wouldn’t you say?”
Only then did I grasp the reason behind their approving looks. It was the Teresha Empire’s culture of reverence for strength. My cocky attitude had been transformed into an image of a strong person’s natural pride.
“I... actually wished she would have insulted us a bit more.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I know how it sounds! But still...”
“Please, shut up. Count Allen would kill you if he heard that.”
...Well, not everyone felt that way, but—
Actually, that’s pretty important. Listening to the murmurs around me made me feel strangely irritated.
“Lucy.”
Lost in thought, I looked down to see Benedict smiling up at me.
“This city doesn’t know about your past. So they judge you solely on what they saw in the arena.”
Only then did I realize what Benedict wanted me to see.
A world that knew nothing of the old Lucy. A place where people judged me purely on my own merits.
Benedict wanted me to see this scene so I could move forward, unburdened by the past. He wanted me to realize that if I walked the right path, people’s perception of me could turn to goodwill, no matter what had happened before. To him, I was still a child weighed down by past sins.
What he wanted aligned perfectly with my own wishes.
I was always the one resented for what Lucy had done. Always forced to live under hostile gazes for things I hadn’t done.
So, a place where people judged me solely for who I was—this was a world I had longed for.
But oddly enough, I didn’t feel as thrilled about it as I thought I would.
Why was that? I pondered the question while sitting on Benedict’s shoulder, but the answer didn’t come easily.
All I knew was that something in my heart itched.
Just like that time when someone insulted Lucy’s mother.
At the most popular restaurant in Count Bardronel’s territory, I received congratulations from both patrons and staff as I dined.
Actually, scratch that—I didn’t quite “enjoy” the meal. As I’d learned during my midterm dungeon guide demonstration, I tend to squirm under too much praise. Even though Benedict ordered all sorts of expensive dishes, I barely tasted them.
After the meal, I returned to my room and sat down at my desk, ready to do what I’d been interrupted from earlier. And, of course, to utter the line anyone who finds themselves in a game world must say:
“Status window.”
–Ding.
The familiar chime and the appearance of the blue window brought an involuntary smile to my face.
When I first arrived in this world, I had been desperate to see this, trying every trick I knew. And now, over a year later, I could finally see my status window.
[Name: Lucy Allen]
[Level: 72]
Level 72. My lack of leveling during the second semester is coming back to bite me.
After level 50, the experience requirements skyrocket, so levels don’t come easily. But staying at 72 still feels a bit low, doesn’t it? My pride as a veteran is taking a hit.
Well, this actually works out—I need to pour some dungeon experience into my friends anyway, so I might as well grind levels myself. By the start of the second semester, I should aim for at least 80.
As I jotted down my current level, Grandpa’s voice sounded in my mind.
<What exactly is a “level”?>
‘...Oh, Grandpa, you’re awake?’
<Have you ever seen me sleep?>
‘Right. Good point.’
Caught up in the thrill of finally seeing my status, I’d momentarily forgotten Grandpa’s presence.
Ugh... trying to stash him away in the inventory now would only lead to questions later. I guess I’ll just have to explain.
‘To put it simply, a level is a numerical measure of one’s experience from defeating enemies. The higher it is, the more you’re capable of doing.’
<That’s a novel concept. Is it something unique to you as the deity’s apostle?>
‘No, everyone in this world technically has a level. Most people just don’t know about it.’
In this world, it’s common knowledge that fighting makes you stronger. Even if people don’t know the term “level,” they have a rough idea of the concept.
<...And you can quantify that sense of growth with this “level”?>
‘Most people can’t, but I’m the deity’s apostle, so I can borrow that grace.’
<Interesting. So, child, what does a level of 72 signify?>
‘For a regular noble knight, it would be the level of a seasoned warrior. For adventurers, it’s around A to B rank.’
At level 72, I’d be acknowledged as strong anywhere, though it’s not quite enough to be considered among the elite.
<Still a long way to go, then.>
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‘Exactly.’
Most people would feel content at this level, but I can’t. I have too many challenges ahead of me to stop now.
‘But don’t worry. This vacation, I’m planning to push myself to the limit.’
Since I’ll be training my friends, I might as well train myself too. As I said this, I glanced further down the window.
[Class: Apostle of the Deity / Holy Knight]
Well, that was expected. No need to write it down.
The next section should be the same. I wouldn’t have any flashy titles at this point—
[Title: Disgrace of Allen [Negative] / Rough-Tongued Angel [Positive] / The Beauty Even the Goddess Praised [Positive]]
“Pffft!... Cough, cough, cough!”
I choked at the sight of the titles listed there.
“Disgrace of Allen” was understandable—it’s what I constantly hear in high society.
The “Rough-Tongued Angel” also made sense. That’s what people were calling me at the arena and on the streets.
But, what the hell is “The Beauty Even the Goddess Praised”?! I’ve never heard of this title in my life! How did that end up on my profile?
Is this because of the song spread by that perverted apostle? Or did the Crow Goddess do something just for her own amusement?
<What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?>
‘...Oh, nothing.’
Shaking slightly with confusion, I chose not to record my titles on paper. With one negative and two positives, my reputation was in the black, at least.
Now, for the most important part.
Stats.
I’d need to use any remaining potions to shore up any weak areas. To handle upcoming events, I’d need at least four stats over 100.
Originally, I’d planned to wing it closer to the time, but having access to my stat window changes things.
With anticipation and a bit of worry, I glanced down at the numbers, only to be struck speechless.
[Strength: 105]
[Agility: 91]
[Endurance: 121]
[Intelligence: 58]
[Magic: 75]
[Divine Power: 192]
[Luck: ???]
...Hmm. There’s a lot to unpack here, but let’s start with the most glaring issue.
Why is my intelligence so low?!