Honkai Star Rail: I must live a peaceful life

On Sunday, Miss Jessica left some newly made desserts for Milo's meal, then followed her recently developed habit of going to 128 Rainleaf Road to listen to Pastor Ralph's sermon.

Truth be told, although Miss Jessica didn't believe a word of it due to certain aspects of her identity, Pastor Ralph was young and handsome, knowledgeable and skillful in his preaching, lacking both the rigid antiquated manners of the Orthodox Sanctum and the malicious intentions of heretics. For her, listening to these stories was an excellent way to pass time.

Moreover, Pastor Ralph was truly a remarkable figure.

Ever since hundreds of years ago when Rotznot Skelo and Isaac Larvin, two intellectual powerhouses, jointly disproved the existence of the Sanctum's omnipotent and eternal Lord of All Light, factional struggles within the Sanctum began to surface.

The most devout clergy closed their eyes and covered their ears, insisting "I'm not listening, I'm not listening, the doctrine says so" in self-deception. The more clear-headed ones believed, then had their faith shattered upon realizing the truth that the Sanctum was established to pacify the masses. In their process of self-destruction, they discovered useful byproducts like indulgences and tithes, and their already questionable moral standards truly deteriorated until nothing remained.

After centuries of divergent development, the factional struggles within the Sanctum intensified, with differences gradually becoming irreconcilable. Bashing each other's brains out was putting it lightly. They were all smiles on the surface, but harbored murderous intentions within.

Priests like Pastor Ralph—devout but not rigid, handsome and kind-hearted—were as rare as finding gold in sand.

Especially in this chaotic region, which had the fierce military presence of the Northern Borders adjacent to the Abyss Sea, the cunning mindset of the Western Realm's financial prosperity, the widespread corrupt faith of the Southern Territories, and the cold rationality of the Western Realm's technological supremacy. It was truly the epitome of the Empire's negative aspects.

In such a place, the religious environment, under the existence of countless large and small cults, was worse than any cesspool. Finding a legitimate priest with conscience, principles, and flexibility here was nothing short of a miracle!

Miss Jessica pondered this in her heart. Although no one could be perfect, in her eyes, it wasn't a major issue.

"Father, why do you wear red gloves?" A little girl who came to listen to the sermon asked with clear, curious eyes.

"Ah, Megan, don't pay too much attention to such things. Would you like to try some of my newly made snacks?" Miss Jessica gently led the little girl away with a warm smile, leaving Ralph standing there, unable to explain.

The gloves were dark red, nearly elbow-length, and visibly not new.

Through repeated cleansing with Holy Light, the gloves had absorbed an indelible sacred aura, yet the dried blood color left permanent marks beneath the repeated coverage.

No one could tell these were originally white gloves.

Ralph stared at the rust-colored covering on the gloves, feeling somewhat nostalgic.

Fortunately, he had long since grown accustomed to it, long since made peace with it.

The young priest turned towards the church. Every facility here had been set up by his own hands, and the familiarity always brought relaxation and comfort.

As he crossed the threshold, Pastor Ralph caught a glimpse of a cold-demeanored, almost murderously intense short-haired woman entering Rainleaf Road, heading inward. He wondered who she was going to cause trouble for.

Though Yurika actually had no such intentions—she had merely encountered and "struggled" to counter-kill some pursuers from the Lightless Wings, and hadn't had time to adjust her expression and demeanor after the fight.

Besides, she couldn't adjust her current demeanor. To hide her true combat ability and real identity, Yurika needed to find a competent combat partner.

Otherwise, if those lunatics from the Lightless Wings discovered she was actually an Imperial Royal Knight, Yurika would have no choice but to tearfully destroy half their branches before fleeing.

There was no real danger to speak of—this was the privilege of being the First Seat of the Royal Knights. At worst, she might get half-crippled under their siege, escape into subspace, and drift in deep space out of contact for ten days to half a month.

Even if the monsters from all three major underground organizations of the chaotic region joined forces to concentrate fire on her, they couldn't stop her from escaping.

Thinking this, Yurika added some battle-damaged electrical effects to her appearance. Uncontrolled energy dispersed from her body, manifesting as electric arcs due to her Awakener nature.

With persistent crackling sounds, Yurika walked to the Alchemy Workshop at No. 68, asking at the door with a slightly weak, hoarse voice, "How's the repair on my weapon coming along?"

To be honest, this scene was quite horror movie-like for Milo, especially since he was currently disassembling the mechanical greatsword into parts. At such a moment, suddenly hearing such a murderous and scrutinizing question from outside the door would startle most people.

"Almost done, just conducting the final inspection." Fortunately, Milo wasn't most people. He glanced outside calmly, his hands never stopping, speaking naturally as if dismantling an item while repairing its material and learning from it was perfectly normal.

He bet that she either wasn't professional enough to see what he was doing or wasn't sensitive to the importance of such matters and wouldn't condemn him.

After all, no legitimate craftsperson would desperately seek help from an amateur scientist like him to repair Imperial standard equipment. Though folk methods often yielded surprising results, professional researchers from regular channels had an innate superiority complex towards amateur scientists ingrained in their career instincts.

"How much longer?" Yurika asked, feigning slight weakness and fatigue.

"Still need some time," Milo answered naturally. "This task isn't as simple as I imagined."

"Oh." Yurika nodded noncommittally, then spoke calmly: "If possible, I hope you can work faster, my accomplice. The pursuers from the Lightless Wings are about to arrive."

"Huh? Accomplice? When did you..." discover this fact, Milo asked with a shocked expression.

"When isn't important. What's important is that the Lightless Wings will see it that way. I encountered their scout knights before coming here, and they'll probably figure it out soon."

"Whether to escape alone or team up for a counter-attack, that was never really a question." Yurika said calmly, suddenly tilting her head with slightly curved eyes, her voice carrying a light, harmless pride. "You no longer have a choice, Mr. Expensive Workshop Owner."

End of Chapter