Chapter 1223 - 553: Shameless Conduct

Chapter 1223: Chapter 553: Shameless Conduct

"Hey, what do you think I should do?"

The powerless wail sounded particularly abrupt in the silent space, carrying an almost petulant tone, disrupting the slow-flowing tranquility of the air.

The owner of the voice, the young knight with striking white hair, was currently slumped in a rather ancient-looking armchair without any regard for appearance.

However, his posture was more akin to "slipping," his whole body slowly sliding downward, nearly shrinking beneath the chair.

His brows were tightly furrowed, his face written with "distress," and his usually sly gray eyes had lost their sparkle at this moment.

What to do?

"Don’t ask me."

Ophidia’s response was calm and unperturbed, carrying even a hint of irritation at being disturbed.

She didn’t even lift her eyelids, her gaze steadily fixed on the heavy book in her hand, as if it contained a captivating story.

Her slender and pale fingers gently rested on the slightly yellowed pages, an elegant posture like a delicately crafted statue.

Her wide bishop’s red robe spread out like a calmly blooming flower, with a long, colorful snake tail poking out from below.

"Whatever you did, however you did it, go tell the old man yourself."

In this tranquil "library," Ophidia was enjoying her reading time as usual.

Yes, just like always.

—If only there wasn’t a lazy fellow cheekily lying on the floor before her robe.

The Herbert who was slowly sliding off the chair earlier had now completely slipped onto the floor, very "coincidentally," and quite unceremoniously rested his head on the smooth and delicate snake tail.

He savored the cold and smooth touch of the snake tail, secretly appreciating its flexibility and non-human-made perfect texture.

Not bad!

Herbert seemed completely unfazed by his inappropriate behavior, even turning slightly to adjust to a more comfortable position, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Ah..."

This life is truly satisfying, if only it could continue like this forever.

He thought to himself, then gently sighed, "I really don’t want to write work reports or give results presentations..."

Not long ago, unable to figure out how to explain his "divine feat" to the Archbishop, Herbert abandoned thinking and opted for temporary evasion.

Evasion may be shameful, but it is indeed effective.

When faced with problems that can’t be immediately solved, burying one’s head in the sand—or like now, burying it in the cool, comfortable snake tail of Lord Bishop—often leads to a turnaround.

The cart will find its way around the mountain; the ship will go straight to the dock.

It’s alright to delay a bit; future me will always come up with a solution.

Then, after arranging Eldas’ welcoming of Miss Squirrel, he snuck back to the monastery, directly coming to Ophidia’s side.

Faced with difficulties, what to do?

Rather than fretting alone, it’s better to let everyone fret together.

But Ophidia easily saw through his little ploy, refusing to fall for it, showing no intention of helping him think.

She knew his thoughts too well.

Beneath Herbert’s seemingly distressed and helpless innocent expression was the sinister intent of "I’m going to shove this trouble onto you."

She wouldn’t let him succeed so easily.

However, although refusing to help Herbert, she didn’t drive him away, letting him boldly rest his head on her snake tail.

Perhaps this was a silent indulgence she herself might not even be clearly aware of.

The snake tail’s senses were keen, able to distinctly feel the weight of the young man’s head and the scent and temperature emanating from him.

This degree of intimate contact for her was a peculiar experience, both unfamiliar and...not unpleasant.

Of course, she would never admit this for now.

But obviously, humans are greedy.

This Godslayer was even more greed personified, the best at taking inch after inch.

Herbert was like a cat tentatively stretching out its paw, and upon not being immediately swatted away, daringly wanting to squeeze its whole body into the room.

"Hey hey hey, Miss Ophidia, don’t be so heartless!"

Herbert enjoyed the slick, cool touch of the snake tail on the back of his head, humming lightly in contentment, casually mumbling, "How can I not ask you? You must help me! Don’t you remember? We’re accomplices after all!"

Rustle.

Ophidia’s fingers paused in turning a page, her gaze silently lowered, looking at Herbert smiling broadly at her.

"Accomplices? I don’t remember us being accomplices."

Her voice remained calm, but listening carefully, one could detect a hint of offended chill.

Hmm?

Herbert froze for a moment, then quickly pretended to sigh and shake his head in feigned grievance.

"Oh dear, don’t you remember? Are women this heartless?"

"I don’t remember?"

Ophidia’s icy gaze, shrouded by her hood’s shadow, precisely locked onto the handsome face filled with "innocence" and "shamelessness."

Her speech slowed, each word like it was wrapped in ice shards, hauntingly saying: "In my memory, it was clearly I who wanted to help you, but you rejected me on your own, wasn’t it?"

Herbert forgot, but she wouldn’t forget.

Hmph, I was rejected!

Back then, upon realizing Herbert had been prophesied and located, she had proactively volunteered to fight.