HTLCCBFT Chapter 59

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 59

Oliver quietly lowered his gaze, looking at Fosse who remained silent.

After a brief moment of stunned hesitation, he leaned forward slightly and slowly placed his hand on the butler’s thin shoulder, over the blood-stained armor.

His voice remained pleasant, soft, and tinged with a gentle smile: “Fosse, please stand up first.”

However, the butler, who had always been the most obedient to him, now displayed an unprecedented stubbornness.

He remained kneeling motionless, his emerald eyes fixed intently on Oliver.

Oliver feigned a sigh of melancholy and said without changing his expression, “If you don’t stand up, I’ll have no choice but to kneel down.”

Of course, he couldn’t let the young master kneel before him.

With his lips pressed tightly together, Fosse finally rose stiffly to his feet and, at Oliver’s direction, sat down on a nearby chair like a puppet.

“What are you grieving over?” Oliver thought for a moment, then smiled gently. “Is it for my sake, Fosse?”

The butler’s brow furrowed deeply, and after a long pause, he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

He truly felt… too ashamed.

“I remember you once said that every noble should one day raise their sword and fight courageously for their Coat of Arms and family name,” Oliver recalled Fosse’s words and repeated them unhurriedly. “Even dying on the battlefield is a unique honor reserved for the nobility.”

“Your Highness,” Fosse finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “You are different.”

His young master, born with the most noble royal blood and the purest, most beautiful soul, was God’s unique favorite. He should always enjoy the finest things in this world.

Under his command should be the most loyal and powerful army, willingly offering everything for their master.

The only thing he should need to do is remain in the safest castle, patiently awaiting the triumphant return of his devoted knights, who would kneel on one knee and present the fruits of victory to him.

Not personally take up a sword and venture into such dangerous battlefields, touching so many filthy and cruel things.

“It is the same.”

Oliver’s voice was gentle yet firm, emphasizing, “From the day I left the royal capital, I should have been like a true noble.”

He was trying to convince Fosse as much as he was trying to convince himself: “To fight for one’s beliefs and the important things one wishes to protect—that is the meaning that can be proudly engraved upon the Coat of Arms.”

Just as a rose, with its delicate and soft petals, possesses sharp thorns that can draw blood… the title of “Angel Duke,” bestowed upon the old king’s doted-upon youngest son, also carried the implication that an angel wields a sword of punishment to pierce the hearts of the wicked.

“I no longer regard Cameron as my brother,” Oliver said with a faint smile. “My father and brother are both gone. Now, the only one by my side whom I regard as family is you, Fosse.”

“…Your Highness.”

Fosse murmured.

His chest burned, and tears streamed silently down his face.

“This is only the beginning,” he heard his beloved young master say gently yet resolutely. “From now on, I hope you will teach me everything I must know, instead of standing before me, thinking only of protecting me alone. I, too, wish to protect my honor and those I hold dear.”

Like a blood-soaked angel in a daze, steadfast and silent, he took him under her wing.

After what felt like an eternity, Fosse finally replied hoarsely, “I understand, Your Highness.”

Oliver smiled and suggested, “Would you like to take a bath first, get a good night’s sleep, and teach me how to deal with those prisoners tomorrow?”

After coaxing the butler away, Oliver still couldn’t rest.

He summoned Noel and the other knights who had charged into the enemy ranks after Fosse, fighting to the death for him, offering both verbal praise and tangible rewards.

Unlike the butler, who felt ashamed and sorrowful upon witnessing his elegant, delicate young master wielding a sword to protect his subordinates by rushing into the crowd, Noel and the others were exhilarated and fervent.

—The noble prince they had pledged their lives and family honor to follow and serve was truly the God’s Chosen, endowed with unique and formidable divine power by the God!

Even though Oliver had immediately put away the ring that made him glow and the eye-catching great sword after the prisoners were taken into custody, the image of him bathed in holy light, wielding the great sword infused with divine power in battle, was already deeply etched into the minds of countless people.

When receiving Oliver’s commendation, their faces revealed uncontrollable excitement, akin to fanatics who had just been granted the honor of kissing the hem of a deity’s robe.

By the time everything was settled, the sky had turned completely dark.

Oliver looked at his unmoving stamina bar—swinging the sword didn’t consume energy—and found himself unusually lacking any desire to go to the fields.

Even though it happened to be the day a new batch of corn had matured, the pickled corn in the pickle jar could be harvested, the chicks in the coop hadn’t been petted yet, and he hadn’t even touched the fishing rod…

He didn’t want to do any proper work right now.

After his bath, Oliver passed by the window and, as if by accident, glanced toward the direction of the gallows.

He wasn’t sure if it was an illusion.

Even from such a distance, under the hazy moonlight, the shadow of the “cured meat” he had seen on his first night in Laina… seemed to flicker faintly once again.

He had to get used to it.

The body of the bandit leader had to remain there, whether as a deterrent to others with ill intentions or as a means for the nearly victimized civilians of Laina to vent their anger.

Until, like the corpse of the previous thief, it was pecked beyond recognition by birds, leaving only a dried skeleton that would naturally fall from the ropes.

Oliver took a deep breath.

Hesitating for a moment, he still took the statue of the God of Wealth out of his backpack and placed it by the bedside.

Then he closed his eyes, forcing himself into a state of rest.

When the settlement panel popped up that day, the only data that had changed was Combat.

Level 0, 5%.

A pitifully small increase, yet it represented a life.

Oliver calmly closed the panel, and immediately, the world spun around him as he found himself once again in the dazzling golden temple.

This was his third time visiting this golden temple.

Oliver calmly observed his surroundings.

Thanks to the game system, at least he wouldn’t have nightmares about the blood and gore of the day.

Whether it was spending the night dreamlessly as before or, like now, being able to see the adorable fortune cat statue transform……all these ‘people’… were things worth being happy about.

Oliver thought this to himself.

This time, unlike the previous two occasions where he appeared outside the temple and had to walk in step by step, he materialized directly before the door of the innermost chamber.

Pushing open the door that looked heavy but was light as a feather, he indeed saw a familiar cat-eared “figure” waiting quietly for him by the head of the bed.

Oliver couldn’t help but smile.

“My dear Cat God,” he called out softly.

The luminous figure, relaxed like a real cat with one leg bent, obediently waiting for his approach at the bedside, turned slightly at the sound and cast a gazing “look” toward him.

“Thank you for protecting me with your divine power on the battlefield today.”

Though fully aware this was a dream of his own creation, Oliver sincerely expressed his gratitude to the “Cat God.”

This was the truth.

Without the powerful deterrence brought by the adorably named [Cat God’s Sword] and [Cat God’s Ring], with his meager strength alone, he would have only been able to watch helplessly as his important attendants died tragically one by one protecting him.

How could he have won so easily?

What Oliver failed to notice was that the pair of cat ears, which had been twitching lightly from time to time, suddenly froze as if petrified.

Faced with his beloved believer’s sudden gratitude, the nascent deity fell into prolonged hesitation.

He…..

….. should respond, but how?

While He was at a loss, Oliver—treating everything as his own dream—had already naturally sat down on the bed.

Leaning against the soft pillow made of clouds that He had pulled over, he half-reclined in a comfortable position.

Yet he didn’t close those beautiful eyes that, simply by quietly gazing at Him, caused slight fluctuations in His divine power.

—He froze.

“My dear Cat God.”

—The fluffy golden ears twitched.

The God’s Chosen, with his beautiful, radiant long golden hair and snow-white, flawless skin, opened his slender arms and presented a pure, harmless smile full of expectation: “I didn’t touch the chicks today. Now I want to touch you. Come here, alright?”

After petting the cat once before, Oliver had gradually come to accept the desires of his “inner world.”

Though he didn’t know why the dreams were continuous with minimal changes in setting… Oh, today he had changed into pajamas and was barefoot as if ready for bed.

The details were being perfected bit by bit.

Oliver no longer cared about whether it was ‘real.’

After such an immensely long and exhausting day, feeling utterly weary and powerless, he was actually quite happy about this.

Within the golden mist formed of refined divine power—meant to prevent burning his beloved believer’s soul before fully coalescing—were a pair of bewildered, pure golden vertical pupils.

And reflected in those golden-bright pupils was a figure clad only in thin sleepwear, revealing vast expanses of snow-white skin, wearing a beautiful smile.

….. Ah…..

….. I….. want….. to touch…..

….. go over…..

…..

These thoughts turned sluggishly in His consciousness, and the long leg that had been suspended in the air, swaying slightly, had unconsciously settled on the ground.

Like a little cat tempted by a beloved one, it obediently came to the bed.

Then, with its head slightly lowered, it allowed that slender, cool hand to gently stroke its sensitive ears.

So adorable.

Oliver narrowed his eyes slightly, gently rubbing the twitching little pointed ear while sighing sincerely from the heart.

Just by touching the cat’s ears, those heavy worries that weighed on his mood temporarily vanished into thin air.

What in the world could be more healing than the closeness of a fluffy, obedient cat?

At least Oliver believed there was nothing.

His slightly arched back slowly relaxed, instinctively leaning toward Oliver’s direction.

And, without its awareness but clearly noticed by Oliver, the golden tail that had been curled up behind it began to slowly unfurl,

with the tip of the tail subtly bending toward the direction of the beautiful believer.

—Finally, it stood tall and high, like a flagpole.

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