"We're finally almost there. To be honest, I've actually started missing my room and that bed."
After a long trek, Jeanne and the others finally caught sight of the distant village before sunset. Jeanne expressed her longing for the home she hadn't seen in quite a while.
The joy in Jeanne's heart intensified as they drew closer. Seeing the village operating as usual naturally meant that no major incidents had occurred during her absence. Talulah, too, let out a sigh of relief; she had been secretly worried that the village might have encountered some accident while she was away.
"You've only been gone for how long? Do you really miss it that much? Someone who didn't know better would think you'd been mistreated in Laterano."
Looking at the excited Jeanne, Talulah was in a good mood herself, but she found Jeanne's reaction... a bit much. No matter how much you love home, missing it this badly after just over a month? At this rate, you should never go on long trips!
With this level of homesickness, if you were sent on a mission for a year or two, wouldn't you be crying into your blankets every night?
Though she knew the possibility of that actually happening was near zero, the mental image of Jeanne clutching a quilt and weeping out of homesickness was... actually quite amusing. Talulah had never seen Jeanne look like she was about to cry, and it was human nature to be curious about the things one has never witnessed.
"Laterano didn't mistreat me, but their way of hosting was a bit too good. I'm just not suited for that kind of life."
Jeanne offered her own justification for her feelings. She truly wasn't used to a life of sitting around with nothing to do; it made her feel as though her body were starting to rust.
"Besides, you have no idea how fanatical they were about my appearance. In Laterano, I couldn't even step out onto the street without a disguise, or a massive crowd of Sankta would surround me..."
"The way you describe it makes it sound like you didn't become a Saintess, but rather a... what do they call it... ah, a global idol!"
Listening to Jeanne's recount, Talulah couldn't tell if her friend was complaining or bragging about how popular she was. But she knew one thing for certain: Jeanne genuinely disliked being placed on a pedestal, especially being worshipped by so many.
Compared to a life of high status, this girl preferred blending into everyone's daily lives as someone unremarkable. Take her hobbies, for example—who would expect a Saintess's greatest pleasure to be taking a nap in a haystack warmed by the sun? It was only because the weather in Ursus rarely allowed for such luxury that Talulah felt Jeanne even needed a bed at all.
"The models they made were quite good, though. Looking at the ones you brought back, they really captured your spirit."
Mentioning the "global idol" reminded Talulah of the items Jeanne had brought back—specifically, several figurines modeled after her.
"If you don't mention those, we can still be friends. And remember, keep it a secret! Don't tell anyone else about them!"
Jeanne's face filled with helplessness at the mention of the models. She remembered clearly that she hadn't intended to bring them back! Even as thick-skinned as she could be, she wasn't the type to bring back "waifu figurines" of herself to give to her friends as gifts. Wouldn't it be better to just look at the real person?
Furthermore, she wasn't particularly fond of having statues made of her. If it weren't for the fanatical Sankta, those things wouldn't even exist. But Talulah had suddenly discovered them in the luggage this morning. For a moment, Jeanne thought her memory was failing her.
As for how they ended up in her trunk, there was only one answer. Lemuen, you'd better hope I don't see you again, or there will be consequences.
"Yes, yes, I know~"
Talulah gave an extremely perfunctory reply. Judging by her tone, there was a major question mark over whether this dragon would actually keep a secret. By now, the models had been carefully tucked away as "treasures" by Talulah, and even if Jeanne wanted them to disappear, it was already too late.
During their conversation, the village—which hadn't been that far off—finally came into full view for everyone in the car.
In the back, Sasha and Eno, who had remained silent, observed the peaceful-looking village with intense curiosity. They never imagined the village Talulah spoke of would look like this! It was far better than any other settlement they had seen along the way.
Could this really be a village built by Infected? Weren't Infected villages supposed to be desolate, ruined, and filled with a sense of impending death?
Yet, this village, where people were smiling and chatting, seemed utterly out of place compared to the world outside. Were they even on the same continent? Moreover, the prosperity of the village was obvious; why hadn't the inspectors come to raid it? Though they called it "taxing," in the eyes of the two children, it was indistinguishable from robbery.
"This is our village. What do you think? Not bad, right?"
Talulah turned back to talk to the two surprised little ones. The boys could only nod dumbly in response. Jeanne purposefully drove a lap around the village perimeter, allowing the children to get a rough look at its current state.
Finally, Jeanne parked the vehicle in the warehouse. As soon as the people nearby saw the car, they knew Jeanne was back. A vehicle with such a peculiar design was rare in all of Terra. At first glance, it looked like a collection of scrapped cars welded together, hiding its true value.
After the modifications in Laterano, this "patchwork" style hadn't improved; if anything, it looked even more like a collage.
"Talulah, Jeanne! I didn't expect you two to return together! Hey, what's the story with these two kids?"
The warrior guarding the warehouse was pleasantly surprised to see them disembark and curious about the coincidence that brought them home at the exact same time. Both had left for different reasons and headed to completely different places; meeting up like this was quite a fluke.
"Long time no see! Everything alright with the warehouse? No issues while I was away?"
Jeanne greeted them with practiced familiarity. Before she left, she had been the one leading these men in organizing the supplies. She wondered if any problems had cropped up with the inventory management during her absence.
"Ah, everything's been fine lately! Thanks to you helping us organize the warehouse before you left, otherwise we'd have been at our wits' end..."
"Good. I'll still be checking the status later! If I find any major errors, watch out for your punishment!"
Jeanne left the warehouse feeling reassured, though her parting words made the guards a bit nervous. It was like a parent checking a child's homework; for people who were "fudging" some of the inventory numbers, it was a serious concern.
"By the way, take these two children to the doctor for a check-up! They've been scraping by out there for three months; it's best to confirm their health first. Also, is Mr. Patriot in the village?"
While the guards were still worrying about whether their logistics were flawless, Jeanne's voice snapped them back to reality. Hearing that these children had survived months in the frozen wastes made them admire the boys' survival skills—most adults wouldn't last that long if luck wasn't on their side.
As the guards led the little ones away for a physical, they answered Jeanne's question.
"He's here. Mr. Patriot is over at the training camp. I believe he's currently conducting drills with his soldiers."