In the end, Steven still didn't leave with Kal'tsit.
It wasn't because he rejected her offer.
Nor was it because he didn't want to rack up more WAP (World Acknowledgement Point).
It was simply because he still had unfinished business.
"I understand what you're saying. If you don't mind, I'm happy to accompany her to your so-called Rhodes Island—but before that, I need to fulfill my oath."
"I also promised an Inquisitor that I'd return with her to the Inquisition for interrogation."
Once again, Steven's reasoning left Kal'tsit speechless.
A man who actually keeps his word? In this day and age?
Did he think going to the Inquisition was some kind of fun field trip?
Was he eager to go to prison or something?
Where did this law-abiding model citizen even come from?
But since he had already made up his mind, there was nothing more for Kal'tsit to say.
She simply nodded in response.
"Rhodes Island's aircraft will wait for you until you've settled your promises. Once you're done, meet us in the nearest town."
With that, Kal'tsit turned and left, accompanied by Mon3tr.
She wasn't worried about Steven getting detained by the Inquisition.
After all, if she could see through him, then there was no way that old Saint leading the Inquisition's forces wouldn't.
No one in their right mind would provoke a monster like Steven for no reason.
Not after the calamity Iberia had suffered.
The Inquisition was perhaps the most cautious ruling body in the region precisely because of that disaster.
At most, Kal'tsit was just… baffled by Steven's strange enthusiasm for getting himself locked up.
Of course, none of this mattered to Steven.
He had no idea that, in Kal'tsit's mind, he had already become some kind of bizarre enigma.
Right now, his only concern was finding a place to rest with Gladiia while waiting for a certain Iberian Inquisitor to come and pick him up.
Surely, she wouldn't just ditch him, right?
She did promise, after all.
And if she flaked, well… Steven's favorable impression of the Inquisition would go down considerably.
Luckily, Steven and Gladiia had barely settled under a shady tree for half an hour before they were found—by a squad of soldiers dressed like Western knights.
"Oh? A fight is incoming?"
Steven immediately sat up from where he was resting on Gladiia's lap, eyes flashing with excitement.
But when he got a clear look at the uniforms they were wearing…
He simply flopped back down again.
Just from their outfits, it was obvious that these men belonged to the Penal Battalion that Irene had mentioned earlier.
Unless they were completely blind, there was no way they'd start a fight with him.
Which meant Steven had no chance to show off his strength.
In that case…
Might as well stay put and wait for Irene to pick him up.
As for having Gladiia serve as his human pillow?
Steven didn't feel bad about that at all.
It wasn't like he was taking advantage of her or anything.
Did she even realize how much trouble she'd caused him?
Letting him enjoy a lap pillow was the least she could do!
Of course, Gladiia had no complaints.
If anything, being able to let her "father" rest on her lap made her feel…
Warm. Happy. Close.
Like she was cherishing an intimate moment with someone she deeply cared about.
And so, this bizarre father-daughter duo continued their leisurely nap in front of a whole squad of Iberian soldiers, utterly unbothered by their presence.
For their part, the soldiers were utterly dumbfounded by the scene.
They had no idea how they were supposed to handle this situation.
Thankfully, their commander had the sense to contact his superior.
As a result, Irene arrived on the scene shortly after.
Even from a great distance, the young Inquisitor spotted him—Steven, sprawled out like a lazy salted fish, basking in the sun on Gladiia's long, slender thighs.
At first, Irene had felt a tiny bit relieved to see that he was safe and sound.
But that feeling vanished instantly.
Because just looking at his face was already making her irritated.
Why was this guy so… absurd?
She had gone through all that trouble, reuniting with the lost Penal Battalion, reporting to the High Inquisitor, and the first thing on her mind after that?
Finding this idiot.
And what was he doing?
Oh, just abandoning her in a dangerous place so he could kick back and slack off here, of course.
Irene marched over to him, hands on her slim waist, her presence casting a shadow over his sunbathing spot.
After instructing the Penal Battalion to stand down, she finally spoke:
"Shouldn't you be saying something to me? Like, oh, I don't know—an apology? Maybe an explanation?"
Steven reluctantly sat up from Gladiia's lap, stretching lazily before flashing Irene a grinning, carefree expression.
"A wise and understanding Inquisitor like yourself wouldn't hold a grudge over something so small, right? Besides, look at me—I'm obediently waiting for you to arrest me, aren't I?"
For a moment, Irene was too stunned to respond.
Then Steven chuckled and continued:
"You wouldn't believe what I've been through after we got separated. If you knew, the Inquisition would have no choice but to award me a Model Citizen medal or something."
Compared to playing mind games with someone like Kal'tsit, Steven clearly preferred teasing the little Iberian bird in front of him.
Watching Irene try to keep a stern face—her cheeks puffed up in frustration—while desperately maintaining her Inquisitorial dignity?
Now that was entertaining.
His mood improved just watching her struggle.
Irene let out a sigh, tilting her head back in exasperation before cutting straight to the point.
"I'd love to hear all about it, but right now, you need to come with me. You're not just meeting me—there's someone very important who wants to see you."
Steven immediately raised an eyebrow at that.
But he wasn't one to break a promise.
"Of course. I already agreed to go with you, didn't I? If not for that, I'd have bolted ages ago, you know."
Dusting off the grass from his clothes, Steven stood up and fell into step behind Irene without a fuss.
Irene glanced back at him.
"Am I supposed to thank you for that?"
Steven grinned.
"Obviously."
And just like that, the bickering began.
Sometimes, building relationships was surprisingly easy.
After facing danger together, the initial distance between them had faded.
They no longer felt like an Inquisitor and a prisoner, but rather, like companions.
Maybe even… friends.
Steven liked that feeling.
Chatting with Irene felt nostalgic, like the times he used to banter with a certain deskmate back in his original world.
Lighthearted. Familiar. Comforting.
As for Irene, despite being constantly bombarded by Steven's endless chatter, she wasn't as annoyed as she thought she'd be.
Maybe because, for someone so isolated by her status, this kind of casual interaction was something she rarely experienced.
She found herself getting used to it.
Unfortunately, all good conversations must come to an end.
Before they knew it, Irene had already led Steven and Gladiia back to the village.
Waiting for them there was High Inquisitor Dario and another man.
An elderly but still towering, broad-shouldered figure, his white hair betraying his age.
Yet, his presence alone spoke of immense authority.
The old man was the first to greet Steven.
With flawless politeness, he said—
"Hello."
And at that moment, Steven understood something.
Something very, very important.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
He really did look pretty damn badass from the outside.