The Priest Wants to Retire

EP.102 Those Who Could Not Become Saints (2)

”Priest! It’s not allowed outside!”

That booming sleep talk was enough to calm the tense atmosphere around us.

A silence, awkward enough to feel like a rubber band that had snapped, mixed with the cold night air.

Bigtim and the stranger, who were ready to choke each other at any moment, found their fierce glares slowly softening in the strange wind that had blown in.

”Ah! It was a dream! I thought something was odd halfway through! But upon further reflection, it definitely had to be a dream! How could the usually gentle Priest be so rough with my body! But! Even if it’s just a dream, seeing such a wild Priest was a stroke of good fortune! A harvest beyond words!”

Seemingly still half asleep, those big eyes of his kept blinking, but his powerful voice still rang clear.

Chwa-reul-leug!

At that moment.

Black iron chains shot in from off-screen and once again wrapped around the dazed Hero.

”Huh?”

Pah-kang!

That surprise attack was effortlessly thwarted by the Hero’s lethargic swing of his sword.

”…”

For the first time, a hint of confusion flickered across the usually composed stranger’s face.

The stiffness of a person who had never been seen through getting completely countered – it was a familiar expression that appeared often when he rolled with talented companions.

”Oh? Bigtim?”

Even in a state where he had nothing to cover himself with, the moment he opened his eyes and got attacked, the Hero’s first concern was his younger sibling standing there blankly instead of the assailant.

Being immune to all poisons and indestructible, it was quite absurd to warn the Hero, who had no real worries of being hurt.

Still, as a woman, I just wished for him to have a slight sense of crisis.

”Oh my. Have you woken up already? I had you in a nice dream…”

”Huh?”

Right after the stranger murmured something ominous, the Hero finally seemed to acknowledge the intruder’s presence and titled his head.

In a corner of my mind, a faint doubt began to rise.

The stranger said they helped him dream.

From the series of actions shown by the stranger, it was easy to guess that their aim was the Hero’s life.

The curse that was wriggling within my body was so potent that it felt like it could reach even the Hero’s strong vitality.

It was only thanks to being a Priest capable of holding Divine Power that I wasn’t dead the moment a blade touched my body.

Given the thorough preparation for this assassination, it would be no surprise if the stranger had some elusive scheme ready to incapacitate the Hero, who had resistance to most status ailments.

This meant that my and the Hero’s mingling of bodies – or rather, dreaming of it – could purely be the stranger’s doing.

So then, just where does the dream start and end?

I was fully conscious during the kiss.

But then those various sticky physical interactions that followed? I couldn’t tell if they were a dream or reality at all.

Asking the Hero for confirmation was out of the question.

Putting aside whether I had the courage to do so, even figuring out how to ask would be a struggle.

I couldn’t just suddenly blurt out to the Hero, who might still be a naive girl, “Excuse me, but may I check your virginity?” That would be completely insane!

Once this commotion settled down, I should probably check the Crest of Purity first.

That was the only thought filling my head.

Some might say that I shouldn’t be having such carefree worries in such a serious situation.

But at the moment, I had no greater lament than whether the Hero and I had a physical relationship or not.

I felt that only by knowing that, could I peacefully accept my impending death.

Maybe the curse creeping up from my wounds had finally reached my brain.

”P-Priest!? What is this… all about…?”

The clear rippling that disrupted my brooding thoughts was the Hero’s voice cautiously calling out to me.

She slightly knelt to meet my eyes as I lay curled up on the floor.

Those bright, shining eyes caught the sight of blood gushing from my arm and spreading black spots slowly nibbling at my body.

Soon, like a wolf catching the scent of blood, the Hero’s teary gaze followed the blood trail to the stranger.

Creek!

Without a word, the clearly expressionless Hero tilted her head slightly. Her intent was unmistakable.

Did you do this?

Gulp!

”…!”

Even Bigtim, who was on high alert, instinctively took a step back from the murderous intent swirling in the cramped space.

Yet even with that level of malice in the air, the stranger remained utterly still, showing no sign of flinching.

The smirk subtly painted on their lips seemed to mock the Hero’s ferocious aura as if it were just child’s play.

”No. I am merely a representative of the Divine. So, the death of that man who took my blade is not my will but the Will of God. Everything is as the omnipotent and noble divine wishes—”

Swish!

Without hesitation, a flickering sword strike quickly decapitated the stranger.

The blood that gushed from the severed head splattered everywhere, and despite losing their head, the stranger’s body stood upright for a moment, showcasing just how instant the tragedy had unfolded.

However, no one witnessing the event, including the Hero who swung the blade, complacently believed they had won.

It was understandable.

The head now rolling on the ground looked bizarre enough that it indicated the bloodbath was far from over.

Smirk.

◈◈◈

An unforgettable memory.

For some, it becomes a focal point in life, while for others, it is an inescapable curse they wish to uproot from their body.

Beltein’s was clearly of the latter.

Selection by the Divine.

It was a sacred act of gathering devout girls across the nation with the potential to become Saints and selecting one who is qualified to receive divine power through Baptism.

Merely having one’s name listed among the candidates granted the privilege of becoming part of the system’s history, making it a common annual event for parents of eligible daughters to donate substantial offerings to the Vatican during the selection period.

Thus, the day she and her sibling had also been selected as Saint candidates felt like she was soaring through the sky.

Her mother shed tears and embraced both her and her sibling warmly, and even her usually stingy father offered endless praise that day.

Her younger sibling, who knew little of the world, had only felt forlorn about being separated from their parents, and was busy shedding tears.

However, the exceptionally bright Beltein was so intoxicated by the praises she received for the first time that she casually muttered some buoyant words.

”Don’t worry! Mom! Dad! Welna will take care of everything! I will definitely become a Saint! I’ll make sure Mom and Dad live in luxury!”

The sight of her parents covering their mouths in wonder at her bold declaration was one of Beltein’s treasured memories.

That day was the last time she could see her parents’ bright smiles.

A handful of girls.

What was known as a handful of Saint candidates originally numbered close to 70.

However, only one would be chosen to become a Saint from among them.

No one knew what futures awaited the women who were not selected.

No, more precisely, no one remembered.

”Huh!”

Beltein, who had briefly dozed off in the office, suddenly shot upright.

Sweat beads gathered on her forehead. The ragged breaths that she couldn’t seem to stabilize clearly showed how disarrayed her thoughts were.

”Hah… Hah… A d-dream…”

Carefully placing a hand on her forehead, Beltein trembled in fear she hadn’t shaken off.

Saint candidates who were not chosen were sent back to their families after undergoing several examinations, receiving substantial bounties along the way.

The official stance put forth by the Vatican was as such.

But Beltein knew.

That it was a vile, disgusting, and loathsome lie.

No, more precisely, only Beltein remembered it.

Only she could recall in relatively intact form that they had once existed in this world.