Chapter 639: Priestess

Sunny’s legs were feeling very breezy.

He wasn’t too sure what to feel about that.

Grabbing an object from the bed and holding it an arm’s length away, he walked over to the door and opened it. Only twenty seconds have passed since he closed the door on Chernobog’s mother, and he had about another forty to complete her tasks before she kicks him out of the temple.

Assuming she was being serious with her threats, that is. Sunny’s host was her son, so, surely she wouldn’t actually exile him into the dark, cruel world of the simulated Dream Realm.

...Right?

The finely-sculpted woman had an impatient expression, arms crossed as she tapped her foot rhythmically much like a certain blue hedgehog. She glanced at the offending article of clothing, frown deepening as Sunny stood right before her, unmoving.

"Well? Hurry it up, we have work to do."

So they were busy. Good to know. More importantly...

Sunny flashed her an awkward smile as he sent a glance at the used panties in his hand, held out as far as he could manage without using his Aspect or a Memory.

"So, uh, sorry to bother you, Ma’am, but... what exactly do I do with this?"

The woman raised a brow at his formal manner of speaking.

"Return it."

"To who?"

"...The owner?"

She uttered out her words with an incredulous expression, something that deeply reminded Sunny of his own moments of perplexity. He coughed into his fist, trying to sound as courteous and distant as possible in order to sell his story properly.

"I... must apologize, Ma’am. I am unsure as to whom this item may belong to. In fact, there is much that I do not recall."

Sunny revealed an amicable smile.

"It seems that I am an amnesiac."

***

Sunny’s Flaw was a hindrance. Not being able to lie meant that he was far more susceptible to being forced to expose secrets — those that were important, and those that were embarrassing. Moreover, his Aspect gave him an Innate Ability that quickly became his greatest secret, giving him an exploitable weakness that could be accessed by abusing his other weakness — his Flaw.

However, his Flaw was also a boon.

There were an infinite amount of possibilities when it came to Aspects, Attributes, or Memories. When dealing with other humans, it was practically impossible to figure out what they may throw at you. Maybe they will literally throw a rock, or maybe they will throw in a few charming words that manage to hypnotize you, making you their thrall.

Lie detection was highly sought over in Awakened spaces. Whether it be to ensure that one doesn’t get betrayed by their allies, to confirm that there are no loopholes in a business deal, or simply to reassure one’s paranoia, being able to know whether or not someone else is being truthful was a valuable skill.

And, because of how simple it is, the power to detect lies was not really uncommon. Some were able to tell directly through an Ability or an Attribute, but there were mental Aspects that could help accomplish the same effect — though indirectly — through plenty of practice.

The IPC recognized the worth of lie detector, going so far as to find a method to mass produce a Memory that can do so. That Memory was distributed to the higher-ups of the Interastral Peace Corporation’s ranks, ensuring that none of them can be effectively lied to.

Aventurine was one such example.

If Sunny had to guess, the means to create those Memories were highly sought after by other factions — maybe even the Great Clans, actually.

One would think that the existence of these Memories, as well as those with similar Aspects, wasn’t too good for Sunny. He could never convince anyone that he was a liar, and they would believe everything he has said unconditionally.

However, it was the opposite.

By being unable to lie, even if he was unknowingly in the presence of a truthseeker, they would catch no signs of deception. Instead, his intricately woven stories would always be accepted as true, especially if they don’t reveal themselves to him.

After all, why would Sunny find the need to twist the truth if he didn’t know a lie detector was around in the first place?

"He could always just lie," they would think.

Naturally, it would be different if they revealed themselves to him. In that case, anyone with a hint of intelligence would pay attention to his misdirections.

Whether or not the above was relevant to Sunny’s current situation was unknown. He knew nothing of Chernobog’s mother, and he knew nothing of the temple he was currently residing in.

And so, on the off chance that there was a lie detection method somewhere within the temple, Sunny would be able to get away with his not-lies.

...Though, it was really unlikely. This was just a temple built to worship a God, after all, and it would be strange if they went out seeking something that could confirm truths. They weren’t a political superpower, after all.

Still, better safe than sorry — well, it wasn’t as if he could be sorry in these cases, anyways.

Chernobog’s mother had remained silent, expression unchanging as she looked Sunny up and down. Then, she scowled.

"Uh-huh. Am I supposed to believe that?"

Sunny averted his gaze.

Actually, she wasn’t.

"I hoped you would... because it is the truth. Please believe me, Ma’am."

Sunny felt himself pale a bit as the woman rolled her eyes, mocking him as she tried to emulate his own voice. Or a poor rendition of it, at least.

"BecAuSe IT is tHe tRUth, PleASE beLievE me, Ma’am— who even says Ma’am, huh?"

Another similarity shared between their mothers. A lack of maturity combined with an aggressive sarcasm.

Sunny gulped, hand shaking a little. He didn’t feel too good.

"I, uh... I do? I thought it’d be respectful..."

The woman scoffed in disbelief, a wicked grin crossing her face almost sadistically. She twirled a loose strand of hair in mock thought, voice carrying an eerily cheery tone.

"Well, well, since when— ah, then, if you’re so respectful, then surely you’d have no qualms with showing that respect to the Plaque, yes?"

Sunny blinked in confusion.

"The... Plaque?"

The Temple Slave’s eyes narrowed.

"The Plaque of Myst— never mind, I should remind myself that you’re trying to deceive me, your poor mother, once more. Let’s see if you have the bravery to do the same in front of ’His’ Mercy..."

She let out a sinister chuckle as she turned around and walked down the hall. When she found that Sunny wasn’t following her, she turned around with an expression of annoyance.

"Follow, you ingrate!"

Sunny raised a brow, but complied. Surely, she wasn’t going to throw him into a death pit, was she?

"So, what’s this Plaque?"

"You’ll see... again."

She brushed him off without a lick of doubt as they walked through the marble hall. Sunny noticed that there weren’t many doors around. His room was completely isolated...

"Isn’t it a waste of space, to have no other rooms in this corridor?"

"Shut up."

Sunny’s expression fell, but he didn’t miss the woman’s muttering.

"Separation has been useless..."

He had no idea what to make of that. They reached the end of the corridor, and were about to make a turn when—

A pair of young women with dark hair and eyes rounded the corner, not a hint of conversation being uttered between them. Chernobog’s mother swore under her breath as the pair noticed them. First, they turned towards to the woman Sunny was being dragged by... and performed a bow in perfect sync.

"May Peace be with you, Priestess Morana."

’...That sounds more like a farewell than a greeting.’

It was like they were telling her to die!

Chernobog’s mother, now revealed to be Morana, sighed before returning their greeting with a nod.

"No need to be so stiff with me, gir—"

"Ah, Cherny!"

"Ugh, you shouldn’t be bothering your mother, idiot! If you needed something, y-you could always come come to me? Since, uh, she’s busy, and..."

The two girls seemed to liven up the moment their dark gazes landed on him, causing him to blink in confusion. One of them was staring at him with half-lidded eyes, as if she was a predator and he was the prey. The other made an attempt to keep her eyes off him, a flush on her face as she stuttered her words out lowly, and lower still until they trailed into a mumble.

Sunny dared turn towards Morana, the woman glaring at the one inhabiting her son’s role — maybe because of how abruptly she was cut off, or maybe because all her ire somehow found their way back to him.

"Uh..."

The first girl stepped forward, quickly hugging his arm as she stared down at him with a sly grin.

Sunny astutely noticed the pair of breasts hugging his shoulder

"Listen, there was, hm, a scripture I was trying to reach, and I was wondering if a man with your stature and great strength would be willing to assist me?"

She paused, whispering near his ear.

"It’s in my room, of course."

Sunny frowned in skepticism.

’Bitch, you’re taller than me!’

The second girl pushed the first away, barging into Sunny’s line of sight. She had an accusatory glare on her face, directed at the flirtatious woman.

"’In your room?’ Since when were we taking scriptures outside of the scripture hall, huh? Hmph, more importantly, I was, uh, struggling with remembering the forms of the dance, so..."

Her blush deepened.

"Maybe you could... help me remember? In priv—"

By what could only be considered Divine grace, Morana snatched both girls by the ears, pulling them away from Sunny with strength that they could not dare to resist.

"That’s enough. Girls, what do I say?"

The two of them glanced at each other in shared annoyance, but when Morana pinched tighter, they winced out:

""No talking to men...""

"And that includes my troublesome son! Now, scram. We’re busy."

Sunny pursed his lips. For a Priestess, she sure did have an elegant way with words...

The two girls quickly complied, but not before the more flirtatious of the two sent him a wink. Sunny felt a headache coming in.

Specifically because Morana was sending him a particularly nasty glare. Sunny turned to glance at her.

She made a face.

"Ugh. Don’t stare at your mother with those lecherous eyes, you trash."

"I-I wasn’t? Being lecherous, I mean..."

Sunny was left with one major question.

’What in the actual fuck is wrong with this guy’s pants?!’

They just never stayed on!

Ironic, considering the only piece of clothing under his tunic was a loincloth.