FFF Class Auto Hero: The Weakest Class Turned Out To Be The Strongest?

I stared at her for a long moment.

"You can't leave without an escort, my lord."

The way she said it—so calmly, so matter-of-fact—like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like I was some delicate heir who might snap in half if left unattended. Not, you know, a god.

"Lilith," I began, pinching the bridge of my nose. "What exactly do you think you're protecting me from?"

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curved into a soft smile that was equal parts innocent and... unsettling.

She began to walk toward me, her steps graceful.

"You've only just recently recovered some of your strength, my lord," she said, her tone maddeningly gentle, like she was discussing the weather.

"You're not even nearly half as strong as you were five hundred years ago. And considering the state of the world—the Realm Eaters stirring, and the so-called Virtuous Gods, who were never exactly on friendly terms with you…"

She paused a mere breath away from me, her chest directly in front of my face, close enough that the faint scent of roses on her skin curled into my lungs. Her smile softened further, though somehow it felt even more dangerous.

"It would be most unwise of me to let you… well, waltz into your death, my lord."

So that was it.

I could tell she wouldn't be taking no for an answer. But I didn't like the way the dynamic of our relationship was starting to tilt—like I was some fragile porcelain relic to be carefully carted around.

I mean, I was supposed to be the boss man here, right? The dream-devouring god, the luminous terror of the night sky? Surely that still meant something.

So I decided—probably foolishly—to try putting my foot down a little.

I narrowed my eyes, letting a faint glimmer of cold light bleed through. The temperature seemed to dip, shadows curling a touch tighter around the room as my voice dropped into a tone sharp enough to slice glass.

"And if I insist on going alone?"

She stilled, looking momentarily surprised.

Just for a moment—so brief it might've been missed by anyone else—but I felt it. The entire air in the room seemed to pause with her, like reality itself was holding its breath. Then, slowly, her smile stretched wider… like she got just a bit excited.

She let out a small, almost playful sigh.

"Oh, my lord…"

She took another step closer, until the fabric of her dress brushed lightly against my legs. Her hand rose, fingers hovering just near my chest—close enough to feel the ghost of her warmth, though she never quite touched me.

"You could insist," she murmured, voice a silky thread that twined around my ribs and pulled tight. "Truly, you could. And I would have no choice but to listen... because you are my god; my body and soul belong to you, after all."

Her smile turned faintly crooked, her lips parting to reveal just the smallest flash of a sharp fang. Her next words were tender with danger.

"But then, I would have no choice but to follow you anyway. Quietly. Unseen. Like a shadow clinging to your heels. Because, you see…"

She leaned in, her breath brushing my ear.

"I would rather stand behind you—knife in hand—than wait behind, wondering if someone else would dare drive one through your back. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I let such a thing happen."

Then she pulled away with a gentle laugh, like she'd just told the most charming joke at a dinner party.

So that was it.

I tried to put my foot down.

And she simply decided to stand on it.

I could have tried pushing my luck—really tested the limits of who was in charge here—but I felt like that was heading into weird territory. The way she was enjoying this... the way her breath had hitched when she threatened to stalk me across the realms… yeah, that was a flavor of devotion I didn't particularly want to accommodate.

So I decided to let it go.

I turned on my heel, shaking off the residual chill her words left on my skin.

"You'll have to give word of our departure to the others," I said, keeping my tone firm but casual, like we hadn't just danced around a promise of divine-stalker murder. "And change your appearance. We're heading into a city of humans. I don't want you stepping out like that."

I gestured vaguely at her—at the priestess outfit, the crescent moon blindfold, her whole cult-like uniform.

She tilted her head again, her smile unwavering.

"As you wish, my lord."

And that was how we got here.

In a train.

Together.

Not exactly the daring solo infiltration I'd envisioned, but at least I wasn't being smothered under temple worship rugs while Lilith recited oaths over me. Small victories.

The train finally came to a halt with a deep metallic groan, shuddering as the brakes dug in. A moment later, the doors slid open, letting in a rush of dry city air thick with the scents of spice, sweat, and old iron.

People began stepping out—merchants hefting bags, armored men in faded cloaks, tired mothers with children clinging to their skirts. The platform bustled with life.

I stepped out first, doing my best to look like an unbothered, slightly above-average traveler. My boots touched the stone with grace, shoulders squared, head high. The illusion of casual confidence was important.

Lilith followed directly behind me, close enough that her presence brushed against the edge of my awareness like a low, persistent hum.

Just two normal people.

Or so the world would believe.

Lilith's voice drifted up beside me.

"If you will, my lord," she said, inclining her head slightly—her blindfold catching a glint of sun that made it look almost jeweled. "The inn I specified is in this direction."

"All right then, lead the way."

"My pleasure."

We began to walk, weaving our way through narrow streets and broader avenues that cut through the city like the lines of an intricate glyph.

The border city of Shailorn was an odd patchwork of culture and ambition—cobblestones smoothed by thousands of boots, buildings stacked close and high, their balconies draped with bright silks fluttering like banners in the warm breeze. Vendors lined the streets, hawking everything from sizzling skewers of spiced meat to tiny glass charms that supposedly warded off ill luck.

A few temples dotted the lanes, modest structures with little braziers burning outside, curls of incense twining into the busy air. Children darted between wagons, laughter ringing out under the clipped commands of city guards. It all felt surprisingly lively for a place skirting dangerous borders.

But then… things started to look a little different.

The shops grew more lavish. The people walking by wore richer dyes, heavier jewelry. There were fewer carts of grain and more palanquins carried by muscle-bound men. Perfumed air began to curl under my nose, tinged with something distinctly sweet—and under it, the scent of oiled skin.

And well… as a man of culture who has seen his fair share of ero RPGs, I was beginning to feel like I knew exactly where we were heading.

Boy, I was like—nah, she wouldn't do that… right?

…Right!?