Right then, a knock sounded at the door of the temporary quarters, followed by Joni’s voice:
"Undine? Eros? Are you inside?"
They’ve made it out of the Sin Realm? Eros glanced at Undine, cleared his throat, and said, "I'll go get the door."
Undine didn't speak, but she obediently stood up and moved aside. When Eros opened the door, he found a crowd gathered outside—dozens of people, many of whom he had shared "deep conversations" with.
Wait, why is everyone here? Eros felt his expression stiffen.
Undine, noticing the odd atmosphere at the door, walked over to look. Her confusion mirrored his. Fortunately, Claire sensed the awkwardness and took the lead with a small cough.
"We came to thank Eros," she said warmly. "If he hadn't lured away the majority of the spirits, most of us wouldn't have survived."
Eros exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding and wiped away imaginary sweat. "No need for thanks. We’re all classmates; it was the right thing to do."
Realization dawned on Undine. So they’re here for Eros.
Claire smiled and winked at him. "Knowing you're unhurt, we can rest easy. We won't disturb your rest any longer. We'll find a proper way to thank you another time."
With that, Claire and Anne led the group back to their respective quarters. Only Joni, Sifraya, Ayesha, and Doreen remained. Eros stepped aside, gesturing for the girls to come in and sit.
Once they were settled on the sofa, Eros asked, "Is there a tally of the survivors?"
Joni’s expression dimmed as she sighed. "Only 763 survived. And... the vast majority are children of the nobility."
Eros wasn't surprised. Noble children had higher survival rates because their families could provide them with diverse equipment and sealed artifacts. Commoner students had no such luxury; high mortality was inevitable. Still, out of an initial group of nearly ten thousand, only seven hundred remained—a grim reminder of the cruelty of the mystical world.
After a few seconds of silence, Eros changed the subject. "Did the faculty mention when we’re heading back?"
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Joni nodded. "He said we should rest for now. We’ll be taking carriages back through the night after dinner."
Dinner is in an hour. Why the rush? Eros had assumed they’d stay the night, but he didn't dwell on it. "Returning early is for the best. Many students will need a long time to recover physically and mentally from this."
After a few more minutes of small talk, Joni and the others departed.
As dinner time approached, the young boy who had invited Eros earlier knocked on his door again.
"Lord Regexima invites you to join him for dinner," the boy said with a smile.
Eros’s heart skipped a beat. His first thought was: Didn't he say he only liked the little ones? But he quickly dismissed the paranoid thought. A High-Positioned One wouldn't lie about such a trivial preference. He likely had something important to discuss.
He gave Undine a quick heads-up and followed the boy to the dining hall. Inside, the blue-blindfolded Regexima pointed to the seat across from him. "Sit."
Once Eros was seated, attendants brought out exquisite dishes. Regexima, disregarding any sense of decorum, grabbed a large crustacean and began eating. Neither of them spoke for a while, as if the invitation truly was just for a meal.
After finishing, Regexima wiped his hands casually on the tablecloth and turned his blindfolded gaze toward Eros.
"I’ve made some adjustments to the memories of those students," he said offhandedly. "Specifically, the scene where you used your blood to lure the spirits. In their new memories, you still lured them away, but you used a sealed artifact instead of blood."
"Even if they don't understand the implications, it’s best to avoid such details. Your status as a God-Son is strictly confidential."
Eros fell silent for a few seconds before explaining, "It was the only way I could move the horde. Otherwise, we all would have died."
Regexima laughed. "I’m not saying you were wrong. In fact, that kind of action is quite to my taste. Luring a horde alone is dangerous and insane—far more perilous than staying with the crowd. One slip and you'd have been devoured. Yet you did it anyway. It fits my stereotype of the Elven race."
His smile faded, replaced by an intense seriousness.
"However! As the God-Son of the Church of Reincarnation, your importance to the Church is far greater than all of them combined. I hope next time you find yourself in such a situation, you prioritize your own safety. Every God-Son carries a special significance."
Eros listened quietly. Seeing his stoic demeanor, Regexima sighed.
"Forget it. You probably won't listen anyway. Records say Elves are all like 'saints.' If I forced you to change, you might lose the favor of the Goddess, which would be a net loss. But you should have told me this during our first meeting. I shouldn't have had to find out from the Church's investigation that a God-Son used his high-level blood as bait."
"The students are weak; they might not know the difference between elven bloodlines. But if the Church was negligent and you didn't report it, a stray comment from a survivor could be overheard by the wrong person."
"Then your existence would be totally exposed. You’d face endless, filthy schemes unless you hid in the Church forever or became a High-Positioned One yourself. There are many rats lingering on the verge of death on the Croatia Continent, and your blood is undoubtedly the finest life-extending potion. Men who are dying are never afraid to take a desperate risk."