episode_0036

Each saint possesses their own “True Name,” and as a result, their individual combat abilities vary greatly. However, it is an undeniable fact that everyone knows about the special abilities concealed behind the veil, given the solemnly hidden power. And Isabella, who stands before me now, possesses the ability of the wisdom-filled eyes, which allows her to see through others’ emotions and inner thoughts.

The reason I couldn’t see into Nana and Yuria’s hearts from the beginning is probably because they didn’t know how to properly handle their “True Names.” Perhaps it’s because they are incomplete saints formed through a contract with a demon. Unfortunately, unintentionally manipulated by the devil’s machinations, everything went awry in her relationships with those around her, leaving her deeply scarred and isolated.

I remember particularly that there is a great trauma associated with making eye contact…

“…Is it true?”

Rather than avoiding my gaze, Isabella is pulling me closer to peer deeper into my eyes. Simply put, she seems to be feeling immense gratitude towards me as a being. Moreover, her curiosity about my inner self has increased, indicating a growing fondness.

Isabella had been diligently showing her sincerity back and forth for three months, considering whether to open the door to her heart a little. A strong conviction emanates from her golden-tinged eyes.

“From today, I will serve you.”

What did you say? Are you joking? What about the god you believe in?

Although I think so inwardly, there was still a gleam in the saint’s eyes. From the chest pressed against mine, it felt like the slow thumping of her heart, much like freshly baked bread. Incredibly rapid heartbeat. The flushed complexion. Trembling pupils. Yet, her gaze firmly fixed on me, refusing to leave my embrace.

This level of devotion and affection is something I’ve never encountered before. Could this be a different form of love, distinct from obsession…?

And at just the right moment, someone arrives.

In the distance, there is a maid slowly approaching, wiping her gloves with a handkerchief. She must have killed the high-ranking demon she fled from and is now returning.

“Master, I have taken care of everything.”

I’m done for. They’re all dead now.

“…Is the maid here as well?”

The saint typically emanates a pure white aura, but in Yuria’s case, a deep crimson magic surged in complete contrast. It was an ominous, menacing magic that seemed to cling. I’ve experienced this situation a couple of times before. I wanted to mediate somehow, but the saint had no intention of letting me go.

“How can a battered human possess such formidable strength…!”

In this situation, I had to quickly switch to adept tactics. Even then, it felt like I had survived in similar circumstances before. This was Ian’s way of acting, but Yuria’s experience leaned too heavily in the opposite direction to employ the same method. Yuria, who had already gauged the saint’s gaze to some extent, was gradually exuding a sticky atmosphere.

Usually maintaining a gentle atmosphere, at times like these, even Ian was taken aback by the forbidding magics emanating from Yuria’s body. Avarice. It was as if the switch of a normally cold and ruthless person had been flipped, erupting like a volcano when angered. Perhaps Yuria’s case was even more severe.

“…But still, it didn’t seem to be this extreme.”

It wasn’t like that when I met Rachel. If it ended with a slight rise in vitality back then, now it was something heavier, something else. It was as if the anger wouldn’t subside without immediately bringing forth the onslaught of demons to kill someone or… no, it was just anger.

“Saint, what are you doing?”

The voice at the end trembled. Ian clenched his head inwardly, forcing himself to turn his stiffened head like a stone. How on earth could he survive here…?

“Oh, um… I need to save the saint first-”

“…”

He forcibly cut off the words that were about to continue. The vitality was rising even stronger. The increasingly darkening gaze was partially obscured by the white bangs, making it even more terrifying.

“…Yes. The saint is important.”

“No, I’ve missed Yuria a lot. I’ve been worried.”

“…Then why aren’t you hugging me?”

“Well, the saint is injured right now!”

“Injured?”

Her eyes subtly shifted towards the saint.

Scars were, of course, there. But they were healing. At least some movement should be possible. Is it necessary to embrace each other as if we were lovers, sticking together?

About 4 minutes ago.

Yuria’s mind was in turmoil. Because the master was not where he should have been.

“…Where did you go?”

He had clearly said he was going to save the saint. But the village with the ringing bell was burning, with only the corpses of demons.

After finishing his work, he had come looking for him while thinking about him first.

“…He must have gone for urgent matters.”

Normal and rational thinking. He is someone who values his master, is willing to sacrifice himself for others without hesitation, and thinks of himself as a savior for those leading unhappy and difficult lives.

Moreover, she is considered a holy being. And if she has been cursed, then all the more reason to save her.

“…”

Although reasonable in words, Yuria found herself feeling extremely uncomfortable, emitting an inexplicable aura.

If, by chance, he was with the saint…?

The assumption unconsciously came to mind. And to think that he wouldn’t succumb to the temptation of such a saintly woman…

He never knew that his future self would serve a human man so devotedly.

He never even thought he would be saved in the first place.

Therefore, human relationships could go anywhere.

But the saint was someone who had tried to disgrace Ian. And didn’t she even seduce him with her filthy body?

“…Ian, with such a woman?”

He really didn’t know what was good about that woman.

“…Ah,”

As he lowered his gaze, he saw his chest protruding proudly.

“…Master, you never let go of my chest, even on the bed.”

In other words, it was connected to a strong liking for a woman’s chest.

A foreboding feeling sometimes brings sudden conviction, like water flowing along a path.

“If… I am lacking.”

The hand touching his chest trembled. His face reflected in the blood was chillingly different from the shining saint.

Usually, men consider a kind and accommodating woman as a hobby or something to embrace, right…?

However, Yuria was a woman completely detached from such words.

A narrow person who would rush to eliminate a mosquito sticking to his side.

Even if one tries to fix this, it doesn’t work well.

Just being next to Ian makes him want to kill any other woman involuntarily.

But if Ian rejects him, the story changes.

Once negative thoughts start, they grow enormously and soon begin to turn back.

‘…Am I lacking? Am I not… satisfying enough.’

Or is it just that virginity like a nun’s is important…?

Purity…? Warmth or kindness?

It was an image too different from his own ruthless self who handles demons as subordinates, not hesitating to kill even nobles if ordered.

More like a ruthless and relentless killer.

Rather than such a terrifying person, surely a woman who could warmly embrace him would be better.

…No.

That couldn’t be true.

The saint clearly showed her dislike for him.

That’s why she must have committed such unforgivable rudeness.

Yes.

That’s what should be done.

“…”

However, what the master held with expectations was. A posture of embracing the saint in a way he had not yet done to himself.

And the saint sending a defiant gaze.

His firm heart gradually softened.

No.

He must be forcing himself to behave like that.

Surely, if he were to say that he did not want to be embraced either.

“What are you doing with the saint?”

“…Ah, I need to save the saint first-”

…Is the saint more important than me?

Although these words filled his mind, Ian hesitated.

He’s not convinced yet.

He didn’t accept it and responded.

“…Yes. The saint is important.”

“…No, I wanted to see Yuria a lot. I was worried too.”

“…Then why don’t you embrace me?”

“B-because the saint is injured right now.”

“…Injured?”

She’s not injured.

She’s perfectly fine.

“…”

Well then.

She can be injured.

If I were to kill the rescued saint with my own hands, Ian would surely hate himself. Just enough to hurt. However, as his gaze gradually turned toward the saint, Yuria’s hand abruptly stopped. “…Is it that my insufficient divine power pouch…” No, I don’t like this. It’s absolutely not permissible for the owner to be deprived in such a way. If he truly didn’t know the emotion called love, it might be different, but being deprived is absolutely not allowed. Already having taken away my heart, snatching away the maiden and turning your eyes to another woman is absolutely not allowed. “…Please do not touch the fiancée recklessly.” Yuria, embracing Ian tightly, pushed the saint aside and spoke. Fortunately, it ended with her snatching Ian’s embrace without killing anyone. Afterward, Yuria forcibly pushed the saint into the shadows, and she smiled at the artificially created place for the two. Yuria particularly detested others encroaching on her and Ian’s time. For instance, even knocking on the door during their intimate time was extremely unpleasant. However, something was a bit strange. Normally, she would have immediately pressed her lips against his neck. But now, it’s something else. It’s like she’s desperately seeking affection like a heroine in a precarious position, threatened by a villain. “Ian, if you prefer the same attire as the saint, please tell me. I’ll wear anything. So… please don’t turn your eyes to someone else.” Not to mention, without getting angry, she now timidly buries her face in my chest, unlike earlier. Something is odd. “…Uh, um. Even in the maid outfit, Yuria is more beautiful—” And just when I thought I had woven it all together perfectly. *Squish.* Smaller than before, but still, two watermelon-sized marshmallows were squished. “…Are you not satisfied with me?” Yuria’s distinctively red eyes, filled with an immense possessiveness, turned towards me. Even when I tried to avoid her gaze, she grabbed both of my cheeks and fixed her gaze. As an oppressive silence enveloped us, Yuria finally spoke. “…Do you prefer the saint’s assets over mine?” She then forcibly placed my hand on her chest.

Fortunately, she didn’t seem angry; her face was flushed.

“I think just mine is big enough,” she said.

In my original world, G-cup would be considered top-tier.

Yuria took a deep breath as if to give an honest answer and then asked the next question.

“…How does it feel?”

I can’t just say “It feels good,” right?

Then what should I say?

“I… I can’t become a real nun or saint because my virginity was taken by my master.”

“…”

“Isn’t it… pleasing for you to defile a pure, innocent woman? I can do it too. I can submit. Even now, if you want…”

No… this isn’t about answering or not.

Why was Yuria stamped as ‘someone with twisted sexual desires who forcibly takes a virgin’s chastity’ in the first place?

…That’s definitely heresy, right?

Soon after, blood enveloped Yuria’s body for a moment, and she casually flipped up her skirt, revealing her black panties.

“Even now, I can wear a nun’s habit.”

Intentionally, Yuria, who emphasized her alluring lower half more than a saintly appearance, showcased her glamorous see-through lingerie along with her fair skin.

A slightly blushing cheek, but the gaze directed behind was genuine.

…Ah, this.

It seems like another switch has been flipped.