Button Shells

Considering that she had just caused Roland some trouble, the Moon Maid indulged Roland's willfulness and took her to visit many of the cathedral's attractions.

It took them about ten minutes to get to the central hall.

By this time, a group of church administrators had gathered here.

There are senior priests and nuns at the grassroots level.

There are also trainee bishops in the management.

Further inside are the high-ranking regional bishops, most of whom are acquaintances of Roland.

The most prominent figure is Marcus, the number one henchman, who stretches out his arms to greet Roland as soon as she enters the hall.

"Miss Roland, over here, over here."

Just as Roland was about to go over, she suddenly remembered that Moon Maid was with her, and hesitated for a moment.

The Moon Maid was extremely perceptive and smiled to the side.

"Miss Roland, please chat with the bishops for a while. I also need to assist His Highness with the ceremony."

After saying their goodbyes, the two parted ways.

Roland also went to Marcus and integrated into the circle of communication among the local bishops.

"Miss Roland, congratulations on your promotion to regional bishop!"

"Miss Roland is young and promising, with a bright future ahead of her."

These bishops already had vested interests with Roland, backed by the Old Port District Commercial Alliance, and made a fortune through their involvement in the food industry.

Moreover, many of their family descendants became addicted to the Bewitching Herb potion, and it was only through Roland's tentacle monster healing the slime that they were able to kick their addiction and start anew.

At this moment, the bishops were all smiling and flattering Roland, who was decades younger than them.

Of course, there are also those who don't just want to flatter, but who really want to slap someone's backside.

For example, the bishop of the Port Hessen region, who is quite familiar with Roland, and Helena, who is skilled in magic.

This mature female bishop not only likes girls, but also has a hot figure with a prominent bust and buttocks. She immediately noticed that Roland's clothes were a size too small.

The fabric at the chest was almost bursting at the seams, and the gold buttons, the size of copper coins, were barely managing to hold the two sides together.

Helena was afraid that the buttons would burst off under the weight of Roland's next breath.

"Miss Roland."

Helena lowered her voice and waved to Roland.

Seeing this, Roland stepped closer to Helena.

"Sister Helena, what's wrong?"

"Miss Roland, your elven-style bishop's robe doesn't seem to fit you quite well. Is His Highness Thranduil deliberately making things difficult for you?"

Helena seemed determined to support Roland, while secretly glancing at Roland's ample bosom up close and swallowing hard.

Roland gave an awkward smile.

"You misunderstand. The clothes Your Highness prepared for me were custom-made, and everything was just right, including my height and waist."

"It's just that my chest area is a little tight."

At this point, Roland placed her hand on her chest, looking troubled.

Even such a slight movement caused the metal button to tremble, demonstrating the immense pressure it was under.

"Oh, I see." Helena chuckled. "It must have been the white elf tailor who made a mistake, right?"

"Those guys who were adamant about it must have underestimated your size and arbitrarily lowered the size."

Roland looked at Helena in surprise.

Helena pointed to her equally ample chest, her smile becoming somewhat ambiguous.

"Don't be surprised, because I've encountered something similar."

"And I also have a white elf girlfriend. They are always thin and sometimes get jealous of big-breasted girls."

Helena's eyes narrowed slightly as she winked at Roland.

"But small has its advantages... and big has its own merits, right, Sister Roland?"

"Is...is that so?"

Roland was ashamed.

Helena wanted to talk to Roland about some more ambiguous topics.

At this moment, the Moon Maid returned to the central courtyard.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the ordination ceremony of Bishop Roland is about to begin. Please follow me to the main chapel."

Roland was able to escape from the ambiguous and suggestive atmosphere.

……

The position of a regional bishop is neither low nor high; it is roughly considered a mid-level management position, so the promotion ceremony is not complicated.

The main part is testing faith in the God of Light.

Roland had already established a system for distributing faith dividends to the God of Light, so this was just a formality.

Thranduil looked at Roland, who was dressed as an elven bishop, and felt a surge of joy.

As expected of the person she chose, he certainly didn't disappoint her.

The ordination ceremony of a bishop is usually documented in its entirety.

By donning this elven robe, Roland signified her complete allegiance to the White Elves, sharing their fate and glory.

As Roland had said before, the church was indeed not peaceful, with numerous factions and several major powers hindering each other.

Therefore, Roland's pledge of allegiance carries immense weight.

Thranduil smiled broadly.

She turned and walked to the statue of the God of Light in the chapel, picked up the bishop's scepter placed on the altar, and then turned back to face Roland below the altar.

"Bishop Roland, please come up."

Roland bowed slightly and walked up the steps one by one.

As the two drew closer, Thranduil winked playfully and silently uttered a lip-reading phrase.

"Miss Roland, do you like this gift?"

The gift, of course, refers to the position of bishop.

"Satisfied, satisfied! Of course I'm satisfied!"

Roland secretly gave her a look.

Her bright, sparkling eyes radiated a captivating charm, and the smile at the corner of her mouth was like a peach blossom blooming in Thranduil's heart.

So alluring.

Thranduil thought to himself, suppressing the tremor in his heart, and turned to face everyone, speaking loudly.

"Roland Kane, an imperial noblewoman and high priestess of the church, invented breeding technology, improved the church's business environment, and solved the great famine in the old port area..."

"His achievements were outstanding, and the God of Light bestowed divine grace upon him, granting him the exceptional promotion to bishop and the bishop's scepter."

"Roland Kane, the position of bishop is busy and arduous."

Are you willing to dedicate your efforts to the cause of the church?

Thranduil held up the bishop's scepter with both hands and extended it to Roland.

Roland solemnly accepted the scepter, then held it in her left hand, pressed her right hand to her chest, and took a deep breath.

"I do..."

boom!

Just as Roland uttered the third word, a sound of a silk thread snapping rang out.

It was during the ascension ceremony, and the chapel was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone heard this faint sound.

At this moment, both Roland and the Moon Maid overlooked something.

The elf bishop's robe is made of high-quality fabric, and the metal buttons are sturdy and durable.

However, for aesthetic purposes, finer pompom wool thread was used for the stitching.

Under the pressure of Roland's enormous breasts, Pupu's wool yarn finally collapsed after a deep breath.

The metal button in the center of Roland's chest suddenly shot out like a small dart, heading straight for Thranduil.

Splat!

"Ouch~"

Thranduil let out a soft cry as the metal button, carrying a milky scent, hit the tip of her nose.

She stared blankly, completely dumbfounded.

who am I?

where am I?

What hit me?

Thranduil shook his head and realized that Roland's clothes had a tear at the chest, revealing the deep cleavage beneath the white silk.

Thranduil stared at Roland in horror, his first thought being...

The opening was just the right size, perfect for a young white elf to reach in and feel the warmth of her skin.

Below the stage, the bishops all witnessed the unidentified object attacking Thranduil and were all shocked.

"What happened? Did Bishop Roland attack His Highness?"

"Impossible! Bishop Roland has a bright future ahead of him, why would he attack Prince Thranduil at a time like this?"

The crowd erupted in a cacophony of noise.

Helena, the mature and elegant bishop, did not participate in the discussion; she was positioned very close to the front.

With her keen eyesight honed over years of demon-slaying and soothing rituals, she immediately recognized that the object attacking Thranduil was a metal button.

Metal buttons?

Wait, could it be...?

She mustered her courage and took half a step forward, craning her neck to look, and barely managed to catch a glimpse of Roland's chest.

"Holy crap, that's awesome! It's a button!"

"Bishop Roland's breasts are so big, they popped the buttons off her elven robe!"

Helena's face lit up with joy.

Her exclamation brought Roland and Thranduil back to their senses.

Roland frantically covered her chest.

Thranduil's expression changed drastically. He immediately took out a piece of silk from his spatial ring, stepped forward, and draped it over Roland's shoulders.

Her face turned green, and she almost screamed.

"Helena, get back inside! Don't you dare come here to peek!"

"No one else is allowed up here. Anyone who dares to peek will have their entire salary confiscated!"

"There's still a month left! Tell the scribe to stop writing this section!"

The Moon Maid reacted extremely quickly, stepping out of the procession in less than two seconds and grabbing the church scribe responsible for recording the ceremony, attempting to prevent him from taking notes.

But the clerk sent by headquarters was no pushover, nor was she an ordinary woman.

While dodging the Moon Maid's hands, her eyes flashed with a red, trigram-like light as she excitedly wrote on the magic parchment.

"On September 6, 1269 in the Continental Calendar, Roland Kane was promoted to regional bishop for his outstanding achievements."

"She was beautiful and had a sweet voice, a dignified appearance, and large breasts. Her white elf bishop's robes were so heavy that metal buttons flew off and onto the Saintess of Thranduil."

The clerk, still not quite finished, brandished his quill pen and jotted down his thoughts in the final paragraph.

"White Elf has a history of misjudging bust size, and this is irrefutable evidence."

The moon maid and the scribe chased each other, turning the chapel into complete chaos.