Lucan had never been one to complain, but the persistent bug bites were starting to become a nuisance. Every morning, he'd wake up with fresh red marks on his neck and chest.
Maris... I didn't knew she was so lustful that can't control herself for a day.
Shrugging it off with a nonchalance that was becoming routine, Lucan continued with his daily life alongside Maris. They had lived together for five years, after all. The rhythm of their coexistence was a familiar one, marked by the quiet comfort of long-standing companionship.
But as summer stretched on, event about game began to nag at the back of Lucan's mind. One morning, as they sat down to breakfast, he decided to take care of this. Moreover he need Water Source from this event.
"Maris," he began, watching her as she stirred her soup absentmindedly, "how about we take a trip? Somewhere by the sea, maybe?"
Her spoon paused mid-stir, and she looked up at him with a hint of surprise. "A trip? What brought this on?"
Lucan smiled, a little sheepish. "We've never really gone anywhere far together, have we? I thought it might be nice to get away, just the two of us, before the summer ends."
A silence hung between them for a moment, as if the idea was settling into the space. Then, Maris's eyes lit up.
"Let's do it! We should leave as soon as we can!" Her excitement was palpable, and Lucan couldn't help but grin.
"Well, I've arranged for a substitute priest to come this afternoon. We can leave once he arrives."
Maris nodded, already lost in thoughts of their upcoming adventure. Lucan, on the other hand, was mentally preparing for their departure. Arranging for a substitute had been more difficult than expected—his previous requests had been met with little enthusiasm. But now that Maris was recognized as the Saint, everything had changed.
Even remote town, with its rustic charm, had gained a reputation as her birthplace.
That must be why they finally agreed to send someone…
Just as they were finishing breakfast, a voice echoed from the chapel.
"Excuse me, is the priest here?"
Lucan rose from the table, motioning for Maris to stay. "I'll see who it is."
In the chapel stood a man in a monk's robe, holding a travel bag that looked nearly as old as its owner.
"Ah, you must be Lucan!" the man exclaimed with a gleam in his eye. "I'm Taro, sent from the Great Temple in the capital to serve as the substitute priest!"
Lucan blinked, taken aback by the man's enthusiasm. "You're here early… I wasn't expecting you until this afternoon."
Taro waved a hand dismissively. "I couldn't wait to see the temple where the Saint was raised! It's an honor, truly."
The gleam in his eyes only intensified as he spoke, and Lucan could see how deeply Taro revered his assignment. This town was no longer just a rural town—it had become a place of pilgrimage, thanks to Maris's status. The once obscure temple now attracted visitors and clergy alike, eager for a glimpse of the Saint's humble beginnings.
"You're welcome to make yourself at home," Lucan said, trying to match the man's enthusiasm. "I'm leaving shortly, so the temple will be in your care."
But Taro's excitement wasn't dampened. "Of course, of course! I'll take care of everything while your enjoy your retreat. It's not every day I get to work in such a revered place!"
Before Lucan could respond, Maris appeared at the chapel's entrance. Taro's eyes widened in awe as he knelt before her.
"Oh, Saint! It's been so long since we last met!"
Maris tilted her head, trying to place the familiar face. "Have we met before?"
Taro nodded vigorously, glasses glinting in the light. "We crossed paths briefly at the Great Temple! It's an honor to serve you here."
Maris offered a polite smile, though it was clear she didn't remember him well. There were too many faces at the Great Temple to remember them all.
"Taro," Lucan interjected, "thank you for coming on such short notice. Maris and I will be away for a week, so the temple is yours to manage."
The color drained from Taro's face as the realization dawned on him. "W-wait… the Saint is going with you?"
"Yes," Maris replied, her tone gentle but firm. "We've planned this trip for some time."
For a moment, Taro stood frozen, mouth agape. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he threw his hands in the air.
"No-no-no-no-no-no-no! This cannot be! The Saint… on a trip?!"
His outburst echoed through the chapel, startling even the birds outside into flight. Lucan and Maris exchanged a look—half amused, half exasperated—before Lucan gently took Taro by the arm and led him to a bench.
"Please, calm down," Lucan urged, his voice firm but kind. "It's only a short trip, and we'll be back before you know it. You'll do just fine here."
Taro sat down heavily, his face a picture of stunned disbelief. Maris stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, Taro," she said softly. "We trust you to take good care of everything. We'll be back soon."
As they began to prepare for their journey, the chapel was filled with a nervous energy—Taro's fervent attempts to maintain composure mingled with the quiet excitement of Lucan and Maris. The morning sun streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor, as if blessing the beginning of their adventure.
The seaside awaited, with its promise of new experiences and a break from the routine. And as Lucan and Maris packed their belongings. For Maris, this was a step into something new, a chance to explore not just the world beyond their small town, and capital.
With a final glance back at the chapel, where Taro was still muttering to himself in disbelief, Lucan and Maris set off, their hearts light with the anticipation of the journey ahead.