Arknights: The Holy Son's Leisurely Life — Chapter 12

Chapter 12: She’s Definitely My Girlfriend!You're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.

Crownslayer maintained a facade of icy composure, but beneath her heavy cowl, her pulse hammered a frantic rhythm.

Infiltrating Lungmen was supposed to be a covert operation. It was only her second day in the city, and a simple attempt to silence an eavesdropper had rapidly spiraled into a lethal stalemate. She had moved to eliminate the man listening in on her Reunion operatives, expecting an easy kill to prevent future complications. Instead, she had kicked a titanium plate.

The sheer physical proximity was suffocating. Crownslayer loathed being touched, yet she was currently pressed flush against her target. The ambient heat radiating from his chest made the hairs on her arms stand on end. A heavy hand cannon rested intimately against her waist, while the razor-sharp edge of an Originium blade hovered a breath away from her throat. A very bad omen no matter how she looked at it.

Her eyes darted to the floating blade. She had never seen Originium Arts manipulated with such telekinetic precision without the use of hands. If he were a Sarkaz mercenary steeped in ancient witchcraft, it might make sense. But the glowing halo above his head marked him as a Sankta. Angels were notorious for their absolute reliance on firearms. Since when did they master ethereal blades?

Adrenaline flooded her veins. “Who are you?” she demanded, keeping her voice low and dangerous. “What is your objective? Are you with the Lungmen Guard Department?”

“I believe I’m the one holding the interrogator’s position right now, Miss.” Lucian offered a mild, almost comical smile, utterly devoid of the tension one ought to have with a dagger resting against his own neck.

Still, a willingness to talk was a lifeline. Lucian relaxed his posture a fraction and spoke generously. “I’m just a passing bystander. The name is Lucian. I run deliveries for a local logistics company. And you?”

Crownslayer’s eye twitched. She hesitated, weighing her options. “…Reunion Movement. Crownslayer.”

Lucian rolled the name around in his head, feeling a distinct sense of dissatisfaction. Why did these underground syndicates always insist on such theatrical, chuunibyou aliases? Wouldn’t a normal name suffice? He didn’t push the issue. He had heard the grunts muttering the title earlier; this red-haired wolf-woman was clearly a commanding officer.

Sensing that Lucian wasn’t eager to pull the trigger, Crownslayer softened her hostile edge. “I don’t know what kind of magical logistics company employs someone like you, but how about we call this a draw? I step back, you step back, and we both pretend this never happened.”

“That won’t do.” Lucian didn’t take the bait. “You ambush me in an alleyway with lethal intent, and now you want to call it even? Besides, your subordinates are the ones running a radicalization scheme in the slums. Inciting ordinary Lungmen citizens to riot? Dragging starving women and children into a bloodbath? Are you out of your mind?”

Crimson light flared in Crownslayer’s eyes. “Don’t speak as if you understand a damn thing!”

Her composure snapped. Ignoring the lethal proximity of the Originium blade, she shoved herself an inch closer. Their bodies pressed tight. The young she-wolf glared up at him, her gaze burning with raw resentment. “Women and children? You think we don’t know they’re women and children? But the Ursus Empire doesn’t care about age or gender! They only care if you’re Infected or clean! To survive the tundra, even little girls have to pick up knives and carve out a living! This is a legitimate, necessary struggle. It’s our right to fight back!”

‘Our right,’ huh.

Lucian chewed on her words, his gaze dropping to study the half of her face visible beneath the hood. She wasn’t old. If he had to guess, she was right around Exusiai’s age—barely out of her girlhood.

But her arm, exposed where the sleeve had slipped back, told a different story. Against the pale, youthful skin lay the jagged, dark crystalline clusters of late-stage Oripathy.

His tone shifted entirely. “How long have you been Infected? Have you undergone a complete medical scan recently? What is your cell-originium assimilation rate, and your current blood crystal density?”

“…H-huh?” Crownslayer stammered, the fiery momentum completely knocked out of her.

What was wrong with this guy? Why was he suddenly acting like a clinician? Were these the kind of questions you asked an assassin holding a knife to your throat?

She eyed him with deep suspicion. “Who the hell knows, and why would I tell you? Are you Infected?”

Lucian offered a strange, quiet response. “Unfortunately, I am not.”

‘Not Infected.’In this twisted world, that was the one phrase that never belonged next to the word’unfortunately.’ The longer she listened to him, the more alien he felt. Crownslayer found her tongue tied, entirely unsure of how to handle this bizarre encounter.

Taking advantage of her silence, Lucian laid out his terms. “I can let you walk away. But on one condition: you leave Lungmen immediately, and you do not take a single person from these slums with you.”

“…Who do you think you are?” Hostility bled back into her voice. “Someone with clean blood, acting like a patron saint for Infected refugees? You think they’re living like human beings in these slums? Even if it’s marginally better than Ursus, they’re rotting in the gutters. If they’re willing to fight for their own destiny, what business is it of yours?”

It was a fair point. Lucian even agreed with her to an extent; he was absolutely meddling.and support the real translator.Read at elysianreads.com This is a stolen translation. You're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.

But he had been meddling in these affairs for years, ever since he first washed up in Lungmen. And because this city was full of people who meddled, an outsider like him had received the help he needed to build a life here.

He knew the intoxicating, destructive power of fanaticism too well to be swayed. “If they genuinely understand the stakes and choose to march with you, I won’t stop them. But blinding them with temporary slogans and empty propaganda is a different story. What exactly are you planning in Chernobog? What grand, world-shaking event are you preparing for?”

Crownslayer went rigidly silent, her glare sharpening into daggers.

Her reaction confirmed his suspicions. Whatever Reunion was brewing in Chernobog, it wasn’t a peaceful protest.

“Are you leaving, or not?” Lucian’s patience evaporated.

Light flared. His halo pulsed with sudden brilliance, and the air around them hummed as several more ethereal blades materialized from the void.

Crownslayer’s breath hitched. Seven floating swords of varying lengths danced with terrifying agility, their glowing tips locking onto every vital point across her body.

“Right now, I can still pretend I didn’t see anything,” Lucian repeated, his voice dangerously calm. “Take your operatives and leave. Do not return to Lungmen.”

“You… who exactly are you?”

Her will to fight shattered. Even if she managed to plunge her dagger into his neck, the blades would shred her to ribbons before she hit the ground. A mutual kill was the absolute best-case scenario, and she refused to throw her life away in a filthy alley.

Biting her lip in bitter humiliation, Crownslayer prepared to yield.

“Brother Lucian…?”

Both of them froze.

With the crackling speed of lightning, Lucian’s seven floating blades and the heavy hand cannon vanished, dissipating into the light of his wings. Crownslayer instinctively sheathed her dagger, hiding it beneath her cloak despite the lack of immediate threat.

Yet, they were still pressed flush against one another in the narrow shadows.

Standing at the mouth of the alley was Little Bear, the young Ursus girl, blinking her round eyes in utter bewilderment. “Brother Lucian and Sister Lyudmila are hugging… hugging! Brother Lucian and Sister Lyudmila! They’re hugging! They’re actually hugging!!”

“Why are you repeating it so many times?!” Crownslayer snapped.

Lyudmila—her real name, apparently—was in a state of absolute panic. But she was wedged so tightly against Lucian that she couldn’t easily untangle herself, causing a furious, mortified flush to spread across her cheeks.

To make matters infinitely worse, the little girl’s broadcast had drawn an audience. Several Reunion Movement operatives poked their heads around the corner, taking in the intimate scene.

Reunion Grunt A gasped. “Boss Crownslayer!? With a guy!? Getting handsy!?”

Reunion Grunt B’s jaw dropped. “Boss, you move fast! We’ve only been in the city for a day and you’ve already bagged a lover!?”

Reunion Grunt C stroked his chin wisely. “No, look at that chemistry. That’s an old flame! No wonder the Boss volunteered for the Lungmen infiltration mission; she was coming to see her boyfriend!”

“—I am going to kill every single one of you.”

Miss Lyudmila, whose face was now burning hot enough to melt Originium, looked ready to spontaneously combust on the spot.You're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.