Saint, You’re So Vulgar!

Chapter 2




#002 Episode: Do You Want to Touch the Knight Too?

Well, if you think about it, it’s been a whole ten years.

The time Asher had spent drawing Bershia was almost half his life, and that long-held longing might have been him beautifying her in his imagination.

But Asher had his grievances about it.

After all, it had been eight years since he joined the order to become a Knight, and during that time, he hadn’t stopped hearing news about Bershia.

She was the most graceful and quiet of the four Saintesses.

Devoted to her calling, she had never missed a mission, and her divine powers were said to be extraordinary, almost as if favored by the gods.

Above all, no bad rumors followed her.

Instead, there were only tales praising her piety, like how “the Saintess kneels for the lowly,” or “the Saintess weeps for the hungry.”

Asher believed that the person he served was the very embodiment of all the purity in the world.

So,

“Uh… Ah.”

He never imagined she would be the kind of person to smile sweetly while groping someone else’s private parts.

He felt his spirit leave him.

Suddenly, the words of his friend Marvin came to mind.

– You fool! The absence of rumors means she’s exceptionally thorough!

Could it be that Marvin was actually a genius ahead of his time?

That thought flickered through his mind.

“Hello?”

Bershia spoke.

“Are you flustered? I am too.”

Asher felt that question rising up his throat.

‘Am I flustered?’

Common sense told Asher that someone truly shocked wouldn’t be so persistently touching someone else’s private parts.

But what could he do when the words of being flustered had already escaped him?

In that moment, one thought raced through Asher’s mind.

‘How long are you going to keep touching?’

Her hands were still on him.

Watching that scene, a sense of shame washed over him as if he were being violated by another.

Sure enough, Asher’s face was turning red.

Bershia’s skin was as white as snow, making it even more apparent.

Unable to say a word to the Saintess (though he was more baffled by the situation), he could only gawk, his gaze trembling aimlessly until it lost focus.

He couldn’t even look at Bershia anymore.

The fact that this was originally his body didn’t matter at all.

The shame was that overwhelming.

Only then did Bershia seem to notice his expression.

“Oh dear.”

She quietly pulled her hand away.

Rubbing her palm on her trousers, she briefly licked her lips and said,

“Well… um.”

“……”

“I’m sorry. I was just curious.”

“……?”

“I feel bad for touching just me. Would you like to touch it too, Sir Knight?”

What?!

Asher’s eyes shot wide open in disbelief, and Bershia responded with her gaze.

She was looking at his chest.

Gulp!

Asher stiffened.

Unknowingly, he wrapped his arms around himself.

He felt a rush of betrayal.

A swell of pent-up anger, injustice, and memories of being violated scrambled his thoughts.

And then—

Bershia smiled brightly and said.

“I think it’s worth touching.”

Bershia raised her hand as if to grab something.

The implication of that gesture was all too clear.

Thunk—

Something in Asher’s brain snapped.

Feeling goosebumps prickling his skin, he screamed.

“Saintess!!! You’re so vulgar!!!”

Up until the night before, Asher had been a faithful young knight dreaming of a noble first impression and a bright future, but that day he witnessed the harshness of reality.

Yes, he had to admit it.

“What? All of a sudden?”

His idol, the Saintess Bershia de Astarion, was a person who acted shockingly vulgar.

*

The sudden chaos was settled by the arrival of the Commander of the Knights.

Asher realized belatedly that just as Bershia was groping him with his own body, he had also come to the Knights’ Order Barracks, where men were everywhere, in Bershia’s body from early morning.

And he hadn’t just come casually.

He had rushed over here in his pajamas, barefoot.

This was certainly no behavior that could be condoned under the name of a Saintess.

“What’s going on?”

“Gulp—”

Asher gulped.

Turning his gaze slowly, he saw Commander Weill, who always admonished him sternly.

The sight of his white hair and fan-shaped mustache brought back a familiar fear.

– Get up! A knight only falls when he dies!!!

Why did that voice echo in his ears?

His straight mustache felt like a guillotine.

He felt dizzy from trying to come up with excuses.

In this desperate situation, he thought hard, but unfortunately, nothing came to mind.

Asher closed his eyes tightly.

‘Ah, how shortsighted of me!’

He should have thought about this much even in the midst of it all!

And then—

Click!

Bershia knelt down.

Following the knight’s etiquette, she made the sign of the cross.

“Yes, I receive the revelation. Saintess.”

She said it earnestly and devoutly.

Suddenly, Asher felt a sense of defeat seeing Bershia, who was more knightly and impressive than himself.

Of course, it was just a fleeting emotion, and afterward, it was as follows.

“?”

Asher quickly turned his head, shooting a questioning look.

But there was no time to express it.

Thud!

The Commander of the Knights knelt down, glaring.

Not only that.

Even those nearby who were watching all knelt down too.

“In the name of the Father!”

The booming shout echoed throughout the barracks, leaving Asher dumbstruck again.

*

A revelation.

It was advice and orders given to creatures by the Father Creator of this land.

Historically, revelations became great milestones rectifying major dangers or distortions of the continent.

And the one who could hear that voice was none other than the Saintess.

Like Bershia and the other three chosen daughters of the Creator.

So, to put it bluntly, Bershia’s spontaneous act had turned the church upside down that day.

“I receive the revelation!”

At the mention of receiving the revelation, the cardinals rushed over, bowing their heads to Asher.

The scholars of the church hurriedly wrapped rolls of parchment and recorded every word he said down to his “Um… ah…”s.

Asher was ready to explode.

‘So what is the revelation supposed to be?’

In the end, the one who had made the mess, Bershia, wasn’t seen afterwards.

She was taken away by the priests, saying she needed to purify herself as the target of the revelation.

As a result, he was left alone to deal with all the aftermath.

The gleaming eyes of the scholars were beyond burdening.

“What revelation has come down?”

Asher didn’t even know.

He couldn’t even make up a vague answer.

He had no idea how the revelation would come—whether it came in words, sentences, or some form of image—so how could he answer?

So he kept repeating, “Um,” “Uh,” “So…,” like a broken record.

How long that moment lasted, he didn’t know.

“Guidance from the Guide.”

“Asher, sir!”

Suddenly! The scholars jumped up.

Asher looked back like someone who had just been saved.

Then they all froze.

Straightened posture, gentle smiles, finely dressed armors, and white swords.

He felt alienated by the way he was dressed.

Anyone would look at him and think he was the very picture of a knight that one would envy.

He locked eyes with Bershia.

She winked at him reassuringly and then turned her head toward the scholars.

“There is a mire along the path, so clear it from the designated bushes to lead the shepherd. May blessings shine upon you.”

At that, the scholars gasped, writing the words down on parchment.

Afterwards, they excitedly whispered, “What could ‘mire’ possibly mean?!” “The designated black is Sir Asher’s revelation!” “Truly! The Saintess had a reason to be cautious with her words!”

In short, there was no way to understand what had happened, and during that confusion, Bershia approached Asher and said.

“Let’s go. Saintess. You must be tired after such an early start.”

Extending her hand along with an impressive escort.

Asher, utterly worn out, took her hand.

‘Ah, I’m alive…!’

Bershia led Asher to her familiar garden.

As she did, she told him various precautions.

“Maintain a stoic expression. If someone greets you, just nod while lifting your mouth corners. Don’t let your strides exceed a foot and a half. You won’t need to worry about the revelation anymore. The scholars will be too busy chattering away to trouble you. They’ll be caught up in their discussions.”

In fact, the morning scene felt surreal, as if it couldn’t be real.

Bershia’s gentle tone calmed Asher at that moment, and her smile filled him with a sense of trust.

The Saintess he had only dreamed of was right here.

Of course…! It was in his body, though…!

“Yes, yes…!”

Asher felt a wave of relief.

At the same time, he felt some embarrassment, realizing he had relied solely on Bershia throughout the day since it had begun.

He steeled himself.

‘Get a grip!’

Bershia might be handling this splendidly, but there was surely some anxiety lurking behind that calm facade.

After all! Hadn’t he suddenly turned into someone else overnight?!

Asher felt the need to think and act not just as baggage but as a companion in overcoming this crisis together.

Calmly regulating his now settling emotions, he arrived at the garden.

In her garden, where white and blue flowers bloomed, there stood a tea table.

Asher sat there.

Bershia sat across from him.

Now, they had to discuss things.

Just as he was about to compose himself and begin speaking—

Clunk—

Asher’s body stiffened.

A light disdain crept across his face.

The reason was none other than because Bershia crossed her legs, then uncrossed them and spread them out, and then began fiddling with herself.

Asher said coldly.

“…Saintess, what are you doing?”

“Oh.”

Bershia raised her head.

She looked amused yet flustered as she spoke.

“I want to cross my legs, but something’s in the way.”

Asher’s eyes tightened.

His face became a tomato.

“Men are uncomfortable, you know. Oh, and have you touched mine? You really don’t feel much when it’s yourself, right? In that sense, men are fascinating. Even when touching themselves…”

“Saintess! Please…!”

It was dizzying.

He was getting mentally muddled in every way, and amid that, Asher realized one thing clearly.

– You fool! The absence of rumors only means she’s particularly meticulous!

His friend Marvin was indeed a wise person.

At least, more so than him.


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