TBR CH274: Extra

From a secular perspective, the position of Bishop of the Dark Church was one that everyone envied, with a vacation of up to six months each year (which could be arbitrarily increased or decreased according to the god’s own wishes).

This also meant that Edwin had to handle official business for the other half of the time.

Compared to the former Bright Church, the work here was much simpler. Since Tarksius had no requirements for faith, the cumbersome rituals were naturally omitted. The main things to consider were personnel scheduling and the bestowing and retracting of divine power. This type of work was relatively easy for Edwin to handle.

The quill pen couldn’t help but stray in an arc—

A string of abrupt, dark golden ink marks was left on the parchment.

The Bishop of the Dark Church pressed the writing with his fingertips, and a faint glow flashed at his fingertips. The oversight vanished as if it had never happened. He silently lifted his eyelids, his light-gray pupils sweeping the room with extreme restraint, then pursed his lips the next second, his gaze falling back to the documents before him without a trace.

Edwin pretended he didn’t feel a bit of disappointment, but the sound of him flipping through the documents was still slightly louder than before.

Today seemed to be particularly long. The sun had gradually slid from the center of the sky and was now still hanging on the sharp spire of the building. The night was not yet willing to sprinkle its coolness on the world, and the shadow under the climbing vines on the wall still appeared dark and heavy.

This afternoon, he had desperately tried to focus his energy on work, but he still found it difficult to control his wandering thoughts.

This was certainly not Tal’s fault.

Although the rose-scented demon had rarely offered to accompany him to work today, and was now sitting about half a meter away from him.

But compared to this person’s various malicious acts in the past, at this moment he was just reading a book, Encyclopedia of Ancient Mythical Creatures.

Dark, soft hair flowed over his shoulders, sliding down the page along with the god’s gaze. That pair of crimson eyes, more beautiful than garnets, was staring at a certain line of complex Latin nouns. He blinked at a slower frequency than usual and turned the pages at a slightly faster speed. He was lazily sunk into the soft velvet chair. From this angle, one could not see the bright and brilliant gemstone he used to tie his hair.

He looked so focused, so single-minded, completely unaware of Edwin’s sidelong glances.

Was this book really that interesting?

The Bishop stared at the document in front of him, his thoughts drifting slightly again.

In his impression, this book focused on a comprehensive investigation of the physiological characteristics of mythical creatures and a tedious introduction to their natural habits. It involved a large number of Latin roots and obscure professional terms, making it difficult to arouse any enthusiasm for reading. This was not surprising; Edwin’s personal belongings had always lacked interesting books.

He had once asked Tal if he wanted to go to the church’s library to pick a few books he was interested in, but the god had said he didn’t care what he read, it was just a way to pass the time.

Pass the time…

The quill pen swayed slightly in his fingertips. As Edwin thought, he wrote down unimpeachable words on the paper as a reply.

Was the church office too empty, too boring?

This wasn’t the first time Tal had accompanied him to work, but it was the first time the little devil with pomegranate-red eyes had been so quiet.

Usually, he would have already closed the distance between them to within a centimeter. The moment Edwin turned his head, he would bump into a large cloud of rose fragrance, a scent even more melancholic and beautiful than real roses. Then, the little devil would smile at him, his hair falling down to his hand.

Sometimes Edwin could hold on for two seconds to finish reading the document in his hand; most of the time, he couldn’t.

He would only be unable to control himself and reach out to touch him.

…

The human’s pupils darkened, almost like a damp, gray fog.

This type of memory often ended in a rosy hue, and a few times it was even close to decadent.

Obviously, certain behaviors in the Holy See would be judged as blasphemy, but it was even more obvious that the god himself did not mind at all, and his archbishop was a half-succubus hybrid… Just as Edwin could control his ever-expanding power well, he could now control his blood.

Edwin had never felt it was inappropriate to indulge the god he believed in.

So he also didn’t mind Tal causing trouble out of boredom while he was working, such as writing on his back, or clinging to him, or kissing, or playing with his fingers.

Or when a priest knocked on his door to report on official business, he would quickly button up the top three buttons of his robe, covering himself from his ankles to his collarbone with the dark vestment, looking ascetic and restrained. His light gray eyes were tolerant and calm, looking perfectly natural, except for the damp tips of his dark, curly hair clinging to his pale face, exposing his recent unstable breathing, carrying a certain fragrance of roses.

Edwin turned another page of the document.

Although his mind was not on work, it was terrifying.

For a naturally free-spirited demon, asking him to stay in a small room doing nothing… he wasn’t an interesting person, and he had never expected that. If Tal was really bored, perhaps he could also walk around the church more.

And it was decorated according to the god’s preferences.

Looking out from the office window, the obsidian buildings still cut huge shadows in the sunlight. The elegant and sharp dome pierced the sky, and clusters of red roses were undoubtedly the most suitable embellishment, adding countless bright spots to the church.

The church had a dedicated pigeon house and had even tamed them.

The church also had the most standard chapel, but there was no statue of a god inside, nor was there a gospel requiring confession or conversion. The former was at Tarksius’ request, so he could now walk around his own church without many people recognizing him, and he could occasionally be mistaken for Edwin’s attendant (he himself enjoyed this point); the latter was the consistent style of the dark god.

He did not need people to believe in him.

The god simply gave the opportunity to gain power equally to those who came here.

For these reasons, the Dark Church had a surprisingly large number of visitors, and some people stayed to pursue related divine offices. If one wanted to witness the diverse crowds from various city-states, this place could satisfy that need. Edwin hoped this could satisfy his devil’s need to chat with people, as Tal was very good at socializing.

If the god felt bored, he could go out for a walk, or he could go and pet some of the dark creatures with smooth fur, or he could do anything to him… But the problem was, Tal didn’t seem bored.

Was this book really that interesting? Edwin thought again.

The Bishop had indeed read it twice, purely as a human ingesting knowledge he believed he had to master. He once again, without a sound, glanced at the demon beside him with his peripheral vision. The other happened to be turning a page, his fingers passing over the page. It seemed he had already read a large part of the book.

Perhaps the dark god had really seen these mythical creatures, so he was particularly interested…

No.

Edwin’s surprise was very restrained. Under the whirlwind of his thoughts, the gray cape in his pupils only rippled slightly. But in that pair of impassive pupils, the flashing light was well captured.

Tal was always staring at the page. A quick glance was not enough to see the demon’s eyes clearly.

Then what was that shining thing?

A ruby hair tie that should have been pressed between his back and the velvet chair.

Almost like unraveling a cocoon to find the truth in a detective game, Edwin had obtained the last piece of that puzzle.

The Bishop’s fingertips unconsciously tapped lightly on the desktop. Before revealing the truth, he spared a final moment to look at the document in front of him—it was already a thin stack. He had completed more tasks today than he had imagined. This was perhaps because Tal had always been a puzzle that troubled Edwin, but it had never really affected him from doing anything.

The god’s power was still greater than his.

The god was very fast, so he could always move his gaze away before Edwin looked at him.

But how could he know when he wanted to look at him… Edwin couldn’t help but regret his distraction and carelessness. Those were obviously too obvious. If Tal had been observing him all along, it wouldn’t be difficult to notice how his attention shifted from the documents in front of him, and how it was his gaze that finally broke free. And he had actually thought he had done it all very secretively.

How foolish he was.

But wasn’t the god the same?

Why didn’t Tal realize his hair tie had exposed him? He could have just arranged it beforehand, and he wouldn’t have been caught. If he hadn’t leaned over or made a bigger movement, that hair tie should have been properly behind him at this moment, not closer to Edwin’s side.

The Bishop had figured out most of the problem, with only this one remaining.

He calmly lowered his gaze and continued to write his reply on the parchment. The tip of the quill trembled slightly, and smooth and elegant handwriting appeared line by line before his eyes, with a sharpness that no longer needed to be feigned or restrained.

Tal was watching him.

This afternoon, Tal had been staring at him for much longer than Edwin had glanced at him with his peripheral vision.

His bishop was indeed very good-looking. Just sitting here watching him work was pleasing to the eye. He was born with a certain superior coldness and restraint, and had amazing talent and self-control. He really should be proud of this.

When the curve of his side profile was motionless, only that pair of pupils with a floating mist would occasionally move away from the paper, pretending to casually shift towards Tal, and only then would he rarely show human emotions and feelings.

…Although at this time, the demon had already quickly moved his gaze away, looking at the book in his hand…

Hmm, he didn’t even remember what this book was called.

But that didn’t matter.

Tal made sure to turn the page at regular intervals, so that the bishop wouldn’t easily notice his inattention, and he could also do some other things.

He had turned the pages countless times, feeling no interest in the long Latin proper nouns and the punctuation that appeared only once every two and a half lines, and he deeply admired Edwin for being able to read this book. He felt that even if he were given more time, he wouldn’t finish even a single page.

Although he hadn’t lied to Edwin.

If he had been imprisoned in a bottle for those thousands of years, having a book like this would have been a luxury.

Edwin’s writing slowed down again. His quill pen tilted slightly, and Tal held his breath slightly, but the tip of the pen moved again, naturally finishing the string of words, looking as if it had no intention of stopping. Tal boldly stared at him, very confident in his judgment—and then he froze from his spine to his fingertips.

He had met that pair of arrogant, mist-filled gray eyes head-on.

He was caught red-handed.

The little devil’s brain, always known for its agility, stalled for a few seconds even in this situation.

Then he guessed what had exposed him.

The hair tie had been tied by Edwin himself this morning after he had combed his hair. He didn’t know where the bishop had gotten so many priceless gems, but it was indeed rumored in the folk that the Dark Church favored crimson treasures, as a reward in exchange for power.

Before Edwin could say anything, the god preemptively spread his hands and smiled back: “My dear Bishop, why are you suddenly looking at me? Although I don’t mind at all—”

“Does the Plukran Beast freeze everyone who sees its eyes, or does it petrify everyone who has ever looked at its eyes?” Edwin asked.

Tal, of course, did not know.

He didn’t even know what a Plukran Beast was, only vaguely remembering that this thing had already disappeared from the continent in his time. But, the dark god completely guessed the intention of this question, and was not about to so easily succumb to such a question. His mouth curved, and he said in a light and sweet voice: “On this question, I believe it’s neither.”

From the bishop’s eyes, it was clear his answer was correct.

But this was, after all, a very ambiguous answer. If Edwin wanted to go further, even the god would have to surrender. Tal casually placed the book, which probably contained the answer, to one side, stood up, and walked towards the bishop. The moment he placed his hand on the bishop’s shoulder, Edwin said: “That’s what the book you were just reading wrote—on the second page.”

“Hmm. Hmm…”

“You were reading very seriously,” the bishop seemed to let out an almost inaudible sigh, a sigh of indulgence.

“The Bishop hasn’t answered why he was peeking at me yet.”

One couldn’t give in too much to Tal, otherwise the little devil with pomegranate-colored eyes would take a mile if given an inch. He would one hundred percent take a mile.

When he asked the question, he was still smiling, his warm breath blowing on the back of his neck, with a hint of a smile.

He really wanted to say that it was Tal who had been peeking at him all along. He really wanted to ask if Tal had been unable to tear his gaze away, if he had been staring at him in a daze, just as he had been staring at him, and so had to leave the hair tie as evidence because he couldn’t destroy it in time. But at the same time, he also really wanted to wait for Tal’s kiss to land on his earlobe.

Tal kissed his earlobe.

He heard the human’s breathing suddenly quicken. Edwin had a distant temperament, which could only be broken at times like this. The human struggled to calm his heart, to prevent himself from completely losing his composure, and lowered his voice: “I’ve been thinking—”

“What?”

“Is that book more interesting?”

When he said this, the bishop leaned back. That pair of gray pupils changed their angle and met Tal’s, who was leaning over to look at him. What filled his eyes was not so much a gray mist as a kind of feigned gentleness. In reality, Edwin was stubborn, arrogant, and terrifyingly smart. This human was like an unsheathed, sharp dagger, so fast that the blade was sharpened very, very thin.

They looked at each other again.

And then Tal found that he didn’t want to lie at all, or to be perfunctory. This was not a war.

Even if it was, it was a small war between two lovers in love.

“It’s really interesting,” Tal said softly. “Bishop, look.”

Suddenly, a fluttering sound came from the edge of Edwin’s vision. Edwin didn’t move, waiting for it to fly into his line of sight.

It was a strange-looking “flying bird.”

The book that Tal had just been pretending to read was inscribed with countless spells. It was completely on a whim. Every time he turned a page, the dark god would casually infuse some magic into it, so at this moment, the book seemed to have a life of its own, flapping and flying, circling randomly in the office.

The corners of Edwin’s mouth unconsciously curved upwards.

A flying bird made from a completely boring book circled around and began to dive downwards.

It hovered in front of Edwin’s gray eyes. Then, the very middle page began to fold on its own, as if an invisible hand in the air was shaping it. This shape finally settled into a paper heart, and then it fell into Edwin’s hand.

“Do you like it?” the devil asked, leaning in. “If this page is useful to you, I can also restore it and put it back together. I just wanted to show you.”

His eyes were really beautiful. Even if Edwin had said it a thousand times, he still had to say it. Like pomegranates, like red wine, like sweet syrup.

“It’s amazing,” Edwin said.

He sincerely praised this magic, which only required some basic skills to cast, and cherished the heart made of gray paper, putting it into the pocket of his chest.

Tal smiled and nodded his head. “I was thinking of the Bishop the whole time. I specially picked out this page. It talks about the habits of demons. If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can also ask me later.”

He did seem to have come prepared.

The “flying bird” happily circled around him twice, then hovered and landed.

Edwin gently stroked its spine. “Is this the only reason?”

“What?”

“The matter of you watching me all along.”

The bishop’s words were clearly calmer than Tal’s. He didn’t mention the “peeking” part. “I was wondering why you didn’t just talk to me.”

“Er…” The little devil hesitated for a few seconds. His dark hair looked like it would feel wonderful to touch, and it carried the scent of roses. When it fell, it was gathered into a ponytail at the back of his neck, making him look very well-behaved. Then Tal lowered his eyes, stared at his toes, and sincerely told the truth: “I feel that during this time, I’ve affected you too many times when you should be doing your work…”

This influence had many aspects.

Although Edwin didn’t seem to have a single opinion about it.

“And then, I did a little calculation,” the devil gently lifted one of his pomegranate-red eyes. “My dear Bishop, this means you must finish most of your work when I’m not around. You also know, you have to compress your time and improve your efficiency. We still have plans to go on vacation to the floating island in the second half of the year. So I realized I can’t affect you anymore, but I still can’t bear to be separated from you.”

He looked genuinely a little sad.

Edwin wavered faster than he had imagined.

Although he didn’t think he could really ask what Tal was thinking with a straight face, this was still too much. It made his heart beat lightly, the human heart, the heart that regarded the god before him as the most precious thing he possessed.

“Although we spend every night together.”

Tal added, “But Bishop, think about it. When I first met you, we wouldn’t be separated for a whole twenty-four hours.”

He was confusing the concepts a little.

At that time, it was the curse that was at work.

But anyway, the pupils of the human in front of him had already turned into a gentle gray mist. Tal wanted to be with him, Tal wanted to watch him. And then, Tal didn’t want to affect his work, and their future promise to be together. Although in Edwin’s eyes, whatever the god before him wanted was a matter of course.

But the human was also not pious, and also arrogantly demanded a reward.

He took a light breath, then raised his hand to embrace the god’s shoulder, concealing the greed in his eyes: “It was a little rushed, but I have it under control. Tal, this is completely within the normal limits of work for me, so you don’t need to worry. And, if I really can’t finish it in time, I can also delegate some of it to my adjutant. I know what those people are capable of… But that you are willing to wait for me, that makes me very happy.”

“I’ve already finished today’s work ahead of schedule. Perhaps we can find a more interesting place to spend the evening?”

“Really?” Tal’s eyes looked sparkling. Now Edwin was sure that even if he had to put off all his work, he wouldn’t refuse him. “My dear Bishop, let me think of where we can go.”

He leaped up lightly: “We can go to the ‘Axe Head’ to listen to the wandering bards sing. I heard there’s recently a ballad adapted from that old affair of the Bright Church. Of course, we can also go to the port of a neighboring city-state to join in the fun. I heard there are the latest goods shipped from the Far East, all sorts of strange things.”

And the most precious batch of them would be delivered to the church’s door. The most vibrant garnet had already been adorned on the devil’s dark hair tie. But since the god was in such a mood, the bishop was completely willing to cooperate.

“…Or go to the canyon to find Adelaide? I heard he was recently crusaded by the knights for kidnapping his master,” Tal continued enthusiastically.

The Dragon Valley seemed a bit far.

“Then do we have to have dinner with him?” Edwin just asked this.

The devil’s pupils suddenly widened.

He quickly leaned closer to the bishop, and before his voice reached him, there was a richer scent of roses: “You’re amazing, Edwin! I almost forgot—do you know why I made the book into a bird? Because that black book suddenly sent a message asking me for help, so I subconsciously used its image. Hmm… it sounded very anxious, and also said it could treat us to a meal. Should we go take a look?”

“The black book—” The Grand Bishop of the Dark Church recalled for a moment and remembered. “When did it come to you for help?”

“When you were working.”

Tal paused for a moment, then said without any guilt, “I ignored it. I had more important things to do at that time.”

The meaning, of course, was that he was secretly watching Edwin while he was concentrating on his work, and then pretending to be engrossed in his reading when the bishop was distracted.

The gray-eyed human pondered for a moment: “Then let’s go there.”

And then, it was the moment when the dust settled.

The dark god’s eyes were as beautiful as rubies, but to some people, they might be more terrifying than a fierce ghost. At this time, Tarksius blinked playfully. “Since you are so grateful to us, what do you plan to treat us to?”

The Black Book cursed inwardly. It had forgotten that before the dark god became a dark god, he was a demon who knew how to enjoy life.

Although he had spent most of his time in exile, hiding here and there, he had also basically tasted all the delicacies. This could be seen from the fact that he could still accurately find the tavern that served delicious food in the imperial capital. And at this moment, his long, dark hair was tied behind him with a crimson gem, smooth and noble. It was clear his keeper took good care of him.

The Black Book began to rack its brains in distress, wondering what kind of delicacies could satisfy him.

Actually, even though The Wanderers’ Home mostly believed in being frugal or lavish as one pleased, and making treasure out of waste by cooking a large pot of home-style food, Charon, as a super AI, could theoretically cook any dish.

But to make a big fuss for its guests, the Black Book subconsciously felt it was inappropriate, especially since the AI was also a great hero in this operation.

So, what would Tal like to eat?

Honey-roasted pork ribs? Cheesecake? Vanilla-pan-fried tilapia?

No, no, no.

The Black Book subconsciously turned its pleading gaze to the human beside him, although this human was not looking at him at all. Having gone through the precipitation of time, Edwin didn’t seem to have changed much, perhaps because a human in his late twenties was already sufficiently impassive.

His light gray pupils coldly and sharply reflected everything around him. He was still wearing the long robe of a clergyman, a black that was even more breathtaking, as if all the nights of the world were woven together.

And then, the Black Book smelled a scent of roses.

Not a rosary. The human was wearing a rose brooch on his left chest, which matched the papal tiara perfectly.

Noticing the Black Book’s gaze, Edwin lightly raised his hand. “Do you wish to rashly speculate on the will of a god? Or that I, as a messenger of a god, betray my master? If you have something you seek, do not seek it from external things, but from your own heart. This is your honor.”

The World Consciousness trembled, its pages rustling.

The human—it was now a bit rash to call this being, who had already ascended to the rank of a demigod, a human.

He slowed his tone, his voice light and cold, speaking like an aria.

There was an unquestionable piety in his voice, like a believer who had never doubted or questioned his god since birth. This posture was very similar to when he had preached in the past. The human with extraordinary talent had climbed to a high position step by step with this shell. His voice was like it had some kind of magic.

In the corner of the Black Book’s eye, Tal laughed.

“Edwin,” he shook his head as he laughed, grabbing the human’s hand. “You really are—”

The god suddenly turned back into the form of a god, his black hair falling like a spider’s web.

The corners of Edwin’s mouth curved slightly, and he took the hand the god offered. “I haven’t spoken like I did in the Bright Church back then for a long time. But, Tal wants you to guess. I think you’d better not think about taking a shortcut.”

“I think taking a shortcut is not impossible now.”

Tal reached out and grabbed the human’s wrist, and began to play with it with single-minded focus. “Today, we’ll go by the Bishop’s standards. Just take care of his preferences. The person you should thank the most is him. If it weren’t for Edwin, I definitely wouldn’t have come to help, so this request isn’t difficult at all. After all, I can casually name at least a hundred things he likes. To lower the difficulty a bit for you, just guess one right.”

Alright, now it had gone from guessing what Tal liked to eat to guessing what Edwin liked…

This was a whole ten thousand times harder.

Unlike the demon, the human had always been unreadable, never easily revealing his preferences for anything. There was not a hint of emotion in his lead-gray pupils, only when looking at Tal, was there an indulgence and possessiveness that was still difficult to conceal under deep restraint.

“Fried…” The dark god looked over playfully. The World Consciousness forced itself to continue. “Fried roses, rose almond tarts, rose dew… er… rose sweet wine?”

Alright, it had no idea, and was just making things up based on a single keyword.

But its keyword was probably not wrong.

The little devil’s eyes suddenly lit up. “How did you know Edwin planted a whole temple of roses for me?”

The Black Book, of course, did not know.

But then it thought about it and felt it wasn’t impossible for it to know. This was clearly something they would do.

…What a fluke, to have actually guessed right by making things up… or had it?

“But…” The god’s tone changed, and the curve of his lips became ominous again. “The Bishop is partial to roses, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean he wants to eat them. What kind of liking is that? It’s nothing but destroying what one loves.”

The World Consciousness had already foreseen that it would be rendered speechless by Tarksius.

The dark god never gave an inch.

…But this time seemed a little different.

“You just prepare whatever you think is appropriate. Remember to put a bouquet of roses on the table. Oh, and prepare a few glasses of honey wine. He likes it very much.”

The dark god lightly dropped the topic, which was actually incredible.

“Why are you so surprised?” Tal tilted his head. “Anyway, you won’t have anything good here. We’ll just make do with a meal. If you have time—of course, you have to catch the half-year when Edwin and I are not on vacation—go to the temple, and you might get some benefits. Ah, this doesn’t mean we welcome you—”

For Tarksius to have said so much was already very rare.

The Black Book immediately seized the opportunity: “Alright!”