By the ti Steven had finished adjusting his mods and stepped out of the village, Rhodes Island's aircraft had already been waiting at the village entrance for quite so ti.
The mont Gladiia—whom he had asked Irene to take away earlier—saw him, she rushed straight toward him.
Like a lost child finding her guardian, she hid behind him, clutching the hem of his clothes with a pitiful expression.
"Weren't you all independent and fearless when you were chasing that guy earlier?"
Steven muttered under his breath as he ruffled her hair, his "daughter" behaving more and more like a father-con by the day.
He really needed to fix her condition soon.
If he got too used to her acting warm and close to him, then, if she were to suddenly regain her mories and beco all distant and cold toward him, acting like they are strangers, the one getting hurt in the end would be him.
Emotions are the sharpest blades. No amount of Resistance V could help him tank that kind of damage.
Compared to Gladiia, however, Kal'tsit, who had clearly been waiting for a while, looked much less enthusiastic.
With that perpetually cold expression, as if everyone owed her money, she was practically the embodint of a stone-faced scowl.
Honestly, if he were to put it bluntly, he'd say she had a permanent "resting bitch face"—the kind that just scread "I'm done with all of this".
Steven couldn't help but wonder… Wouldn't holding that expression all the ti eventually give her facial paralysis?
"Rhodes Island has remained in Iberia for too long. Even with the Inquisition's permission, this land still holds unpredictable dangers. It's ti to leave."
As usual, her words were vague and cryptic, as if she was so all-knowing entity. What she didn't know, however, was that in Steven's mind, he was using so rather unflattering descriptions for her.
She was simply stating the facts in her own roundabout way—essentially urging him to leave.
"Did I ever ask you to wait for ?"
Steven had no intention of humoring her.
The best way to deal with cryptic people was to hit them with direct responses.
And considering he owed Kal'tsit nothing, he saw no reason to entertain her vagueness—especially when she was the one inexplicably inviting him.
Her fist, hidden beneath her coat, subtly clenched for a mont at his blunt remark. But instead of replying, she simply turned around and walked toward the aircraft.
anwhile, behind her, an older woman in Rhodes Island's uniform couldn't help but stifle a chuckle, seemingly amused that even Kal'tsit could have monts where she got shut down.
"Young man, I know Kal'tsit's way of speaking can be a bit... roundabout, but you didn't have to be that rude. That wasn't very gentlemanly, you know?"
"Besides, the longer Rhodes Island lingers here, the more likely we are to attract unwanted attention. She's only acting cautiously for good reason."
Speaking on behalf of her superior—who was also her friend—the older woman casually approached Steven, speaking with a much friendlier tone.
It was only when she got closer that Steven noticed the halo above her head—sothing that imdiately piqued his curiosity.
And behind her, six crystal-like wings shimred faintly.
With that kind of distinct appearance, it was hard not to associate her with the angels from his mory.
Noticing Steven's curiosity, the older woman extended a hand toward him, as if suddenly rembering sothing.
"Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. Outcast, Elite Operator of Rhodes Island."
"Oh—uh, nice to et you. Just call Steve."
Unlike Kal'tsit, who spoke in riddles, this Outcast woman was straightforward and friendly—which instantly boosted Steven's impression of her.
Since he himself was also the type to be sociable, he naturally returned the gesture, eting her handshake with a genuine smile.
Seeing the cowboy-like modified uniform the woman was wearing—along with the revolver-like weapon strapped to her waist—Steven found himself becoming curious about Rhodes Island.
Maybe it was just expected from a main character's organization—after all, they seed to attract all sorts of eccentrics and oddballs.
"So, Mr. Steve, are you done with your business now? If so, it's about ti for us to depart for Rhodes Island as well."
Outcast smiled at his friendly response, realizing that Steven wasn't as difficult to talk to as she initially thought.
Perhaps, compatibility between people really was a thing—because it was clear as day that Kal'tsit and this boy had none at all.
"Hold on a second. I need to say goodbye to a friend first."
After a brief mont of thought, Steven turned his gaze toward a certain Iberian girl behind him.
Irene clearly had sothing to say—her expression so awkwardly stiff that she looked like she might explode from holding it in.
Considering how he constantly teased her, Steven supposed he could reluctantly count her as a friend.
He had already admitted it before—he liked her personality, and enjoyed their interactions.
"That expression of yours? Not exactly sothing a proud Iberian Inquisitor should be making. Honestly, it's embarrassing just to look at."
He couldn't resist teasing her again—but instead of getting angrier, Irene's expression softened at his words.
"Hmph. Whether I am an Inquisitor or not is decided by my actions, not my expression. Just wait. The next ti we et, I'll make sure you genuinely recognize my authority."
Even she couldn't quite put into words what she felt about this strange man.
Their interactions felt more like banter between close friends, full of mocking jabs and playful challenges.
But still—when she heard he was leaving, there had been a brief pang of disappointnt in her chest.
That wasn't sothing an Inquisitor should feel—and she knew it.
"And next ti, I absolutely, absolutely won't let you talk down to like so elder again! You're just so weirdo! I'll show you what a real Inquisitor is!"
She raised a tiny fist at him, chin lifted high in defiance.
"Alright then, I'll be looking forward to it. Don't disappoint , Miss Inquisitor of Iberia."
With a grin, Steven turned back and waved as he followed Outcast up the Rhodes Island aircraft.
Just as he had said—he'd be back soon.
And when that ti ca, he looked forward to eting this adorable little bird once more.
"That's your friend? An Inquisitor from the Inquisition? That's quite unusual. You know, in Iberia, people usually call those Inquisitors 'cold-blooded arrest machines.'"
Walking ahead, Outcast turned her gaze back toward Steven, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
"The description is quite apt, but what does that have to do with ?"
Steven grinned.
"To , she's a strong and courageous little Iberian bird. That's all that matters."
With that, he flashed Outcast a confident smile.
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