Tidying Up

"In the towns of Faerûn, you might not find a hospital or a council hall, but you would definitely find three landmark buildings: a church, a tavern, and a brothel."

--

From Volothamp's Guide to Faerûn

Though it seemed familiar, Du Pont did not pay it much mind. After asking where volunteers were needed, he followed several elderly people to the church warehouse, preparing to receive the commoners who came to pray after the apprentices had dispersed.

Strictly speaking, the church within the academy belonged solely to the academy. However, on Sundays, when there were no classes, it also received commoners who came on pilgrimage. Most of these visitors were lavishly dressed and clearly wealthy. Some were parents of apprentices, coming to see their children and attend service along the way. Others had simply heard that the academy's temple was the most luxurious and extravagant in the surrounding area, and had traveled hundreds of miles with pilgrimage in their hearts.

There were not many local residents. Those who came either sought help with something or needed priests to intervene, using divine magic to cure illnesses that village doctors and folk remedies could not handle.

The church treated most believers equally. Volunteers basically had only a few duties: distributing communion, clearing the way and answering questions, guiding donating believers to the proper collection box, and receiving important guests before taking them where they wished to go.

Ordinary people in the church could distribute communion. Explaining scripture was a priest's job, and Du Pont knew little about it. The ones guiding donations were old deacons and elderly nuns. In the end, the only task Du Pont could do was the last one.

When no one else was around, Dorothy called Du Pont over alone. The Divine Bloodline beauty's appraising gaze was like that of a wildcat sizing up a hamster, making even an old hand like Du Pont afraid to meet her eyes.

It was not that Du Pont was timid. The last time, he had merely fallen asleep in the infirmary for forty minutes, yet he had somehow lost 1 point of Constitution. He truly could not understand what Dorothy and the female physician named Sophie had done to him.

Though he really was not that old, normally, even if he exercised a little too intensely, it should not have left him physically drained to this extent.

Even fighting the gray wolf and getting bitten had only temporarily reduced him by 1 point. This was completely unreasonable.

What relieved Du Pont was that Dorothy did not immediately pressure him. She merely touched his left arm with her clean, soft hands. A pale green glow flashed past, and his old scars and wounds healed completely the next second. Even the pain vanished, leaving only a faint tingling itch.

As the bandages fell away, Du Pont looked curiously at his arm. The person before him then poked him in the chest with a finger. "Very good. Oh, aren't you short on money? Perk up later and take each guest who needs absolution to the confession room. Remember to be quick-witted, but keep your mouth shut and do not speak carelessly. We have never had a problem with leaking a guest's privacy."

Du Pont blinked at those words and obediently followed Dorothy to the church's rear courtyard. After passing through several rooms and being inspected by several guards, he finally arrived at a changing room.

"All right, go in and change. Be quick. It'll be ten o'clock soon."

Why was this all so mysterious?

Muttering inwardly, Du Pont opened the door. There were no windows inside, only a large wooden wardrobe, a mirror, and a chair. The room was dim, but when he entered, the wall-mounted candles lit themselves. A faint incense carrying the scent of fresh grass drifted from the corner.

When he opened the wardrobe, he found it filled with a single style of deacon's robe in black and blue. What Du Pont had not expected was that the garment automatically adjusted itself when worn, fitting him perfectly.

Looking into the full-length mirror, he saw the black robe hanging from his neck to his ankles like a vertical curtain of night. The lightweight magical fabric absorbed every stray gleam of light while remaining breathable. Its high collar rose to his jaw, tightly covering every inch of skin. Only when he extended an arm would a section of wrist show, where a worn silver clasp was set with tiny seven-star magical patterns. Silver tassels hung from the cuffs and hem, while a ceremonial dagger made entirely of silver rested at his waist. According to the system's prompt, it could even be sold for 100 gold coins.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Du Pont could not help marveling that the church's clothes were several levels more handsome than a mage's Apprentice Robe. After tidying himself up, he went outside. Dorothy looked at the young man before her and nodded in satisfaction. Stepping forward, she helped straighten the black cord of seven braided strands on his robe, a faint satisfied smile on her face.

"Those old fossils all say they don't look good in them. I said long ago that these clothes were designed for young men to wear. Unfortunately, there are too few men in Haluar willing to become priests these days, and even fewer with well-proportioned figures. Yet they insist there's something wrong with the design. They truly have no taste."

Du Pont blinked and did not dare speak. The faint current of air from the priestess's breath made his face itch as she spoke.

Perhaps because she was standing too close while adjusting his clothes, the female priest's somewhat voluptuous body kept brushing against his, causing an embarrassing reaction. He could only lower his head and pretend to be foolish.

The distance between them was practically negative, so Du Pont's change naturally did not escape Dorothy's notice. A flush crossed the female priest's face, but she acted as if she had seen nothing and continued adjusting the young man's sleeves. When he lowered his eyes, she even boldly studied his blushing face.

"Although they are sinners, those who come here may all be people of very distinguished status. There can be no problem with your attire when receiving them. For the church, maintaining elegance and etiquette is of utmost importance." The female priest spoke to herself, seemingly offering an explanation for her actions. Yet as she spoke, she stepped closer again. Du Pont backed away in panic, but there was a wall behind him. Where could he retreat to?

Lifting her waist and leg, the female priest placed her rounded thigh beneath Du Pont's body, bringing them even closer. Her smooth robe, made of expensive silk, lightly rubbed against the hem of Du Pont's clerical robe. His previous embarrassment had now fully risen, and even his breathing had grown heavy.

Hearing the beautiful young man's breathing, which he could no longer restrain, the female priest's eyes turned playful. She gave a soft laugh, and her slender fingers slipped into the young man's robe, sliding down along his smooth skin. She pressed her lips together.

So young and juicy.

But just as the female priest was about to go further, a bell rang above the church. Dorothy gave a dissatisfied hum and lowered her leg. She placed a pure gold Seven-Star Holy Symbol in Du Pont's hand, her expression somewhat displeased as she spoke. "All right, you look quite proper now. Those sinners who have come to confess are waiting for redemption. Remember, do not say anything, do not do anything, and do not look at what these sinners look like. Starting with Room 1, you only need to open the door, hand them the holy symbol, and lead them to the confession room. Wait nearby while they are inside, then move on to the next room after they come out. That is all you need to do."

"However, if anyone wishes to show their appreciation, just accept it. Once all the sinners have left, your task is over. But remember not to reveal any guest information to anyone, and do not tell anyone that you have done this job. If something goes wrong, you will be sent before the tribunal."

"Remember, do not do anything unnecessary. This is extremely important!"

"Oh." Du Pont nodded blankly and followed behind Dorothy to the waiting room. Only after the female priest turned and left did he let out a breath.

Fortunately, he had managed to hold himself together, and that bell had rung in time. A little longer, and he might have been teased into making a fool of himself on the spot.

As she watched Du Pont enter the waiting room, Dorothy gently pressed a hand to her chest. Her overly active heart made her breathing somewhat hurried.

Suppressing her impatience, she found the white-haired girl who had been directing things earlier and forced out a friendly smile. "Angie, Du Pont may return in an hour. Please take back the holy symbol in his hand then. I have something urgent to deal with."

The girl nodded blankly. Only then did Dorothy breathe easier and hurry back to her room.

After she had gone far away, the girl's expression turned troubled, and she rubbed her brow.

What was all this supposed to mean?

Was this the adult world?

But that guy Du Pont did not seem much older than me, either.