The Priest Wants to Retire

〈 Episode 11 〉 Lies

*

To describe the quality of the audiovisual material I saw for the first time in this life in one word, succinctly, it was this.

Terrible.

The story of a man named Robel Wright was shown raw, without any filters, skipping even the scenes I wasn’t particularly curious about or wanted to see, making me feel like I was uncomfortably eavesdropping on someone else’s diary, which was quite unpleasant.

If the person who wrote this shabby movie’s script and directed it hadn’t suspiciously called themselves ‘God,’ I might have casually fumbled for the remote to switch the channel to a nice animal documentary about lions slaughtering zebras.

As soon as the video ended, the slowly creeping ending credits were plastered with the troublesome word ‘God’ in almost all departments, from direction to planning to filming and editing.

The faint applause and cheers from the audience, almost like an after-recording echoing from beyond the darkened screen, were just grating on my ears.

[How was it?]

How was it, you ask?

I’ve spent so much time adjusting to the whims of superiors in this life and the last that I could confidently say it’s become one of my specialties. However, when the counterpart is a divine TV screen, merely thinking of an appropriate response felt exhausting.

”Uh, well made····.”

I put on an awkward smile and threw a compliment out there.

A smile and praise are universal. No matter when or where, or to whom they are given, more than half the time they work like a charm in communication.

[Right?]

It seemed that my desperate throwaway comment yielded better results than expected.

When the other party gives a hint like that in a conversation, it means they have a desire to continue the conversation, which is also proof that I’ve managed to win some favor with them.

But.

That evidently friendly demeanor on our first meeting only ignited my suspicion even more.

In this world, there’s no such thing as pure goodwill without expecting something in return.

Benefit or self-satisfaction.

When someone helps or extends kindness to someone else, there’s usually a reason behind it, especially when the counterpart is an ambiguous existence with unclear identity and motives—so I couldn’t let go of this suspicion.

”If it’s not too rude, could you tell me who exactly you are····?”

[I told you. I’m a God.]

”Well···· when you say God···· it’s more of a symbolic expression, right? Or maybe it refers to a group name or something like that····?”

[No. Just God.]

”Then at least could you tell me what you oversee····?”

[I oversee various things. Various things.]

”Ah···· yeah····.”

So.

We exchanged a conversation that was frustrating enough to make me think talking to a wall would be more pleasant.

[Did you solve your curiosity?]

The self-proclaimed ‘God’ TV asked me if my questions were resolved.

Now that I think about it, the moment the TV unexpectedly played an observational variety show featuring the Ranobel priest as the main character was right after I had been curious about the entanglements between the Ranobel priest and the Saintess.

Thanks to that, my curiosity regarding the entire series of events was completely satisfied, but it led to a higher level of curiosity springing up like mushrooms after rain. Rather than feeling clear-headed, I was left with a foggy sensation.

”Yes···· thanks to you····.”

I didn’t get to finish my words.

In a moment where even a single blink wasn’t permitted, the TV vanished silently, not leaving even a hint of its presence. My perception had been toyed with by that mysterious disappearance.

”What on earth was that····.”

To rekindle my drowsy consciousness, I considered pinching my cheek at least, but I quickly gave up.

”Ugh····.”

It seemed like the Saintess, just waking up, began to fidget in my arms. The soft skin against mine and her warm body heat firmly reassured me that I wasn’t dreaming.

◈◈◈

The Saintess remained silent for a while after waking up.

Clinging to my upper body, she occasionally blinked her eyes open and shut, but other than that, she seemed entirely like her usual self, except for her refusal to let go of me like a baby koala.

However, the moment I tried to separate her or indicated my intention to get up and move to another spot, she would start to whimper softly, as if preparing for a sad cry, silently threatening me to stay still, making me feel stuck.

”Saintess····. I think my blood isn’t circulating right now····. Can you just let go for a moment? Just for a split second? I promise I’ll hug you again after a little exercise····.”

”Wuuuh····.”

Nope, not happening.

Instead of a reply, I was met with her melancholic whines as she buried her face into my shirt. Yet, that alone conveyed her willpower clearly; her desperate actions were vivid.

Children always express their feelings in rough and primitive ways.

The Saintess had been the very epitome of such childishness until now.

If her demands weren’t met, she pouted, and until she got what she wanted, she’d throw tantrums, not hesitating to harm any annoying presence.

But at this moment, how was the Saintess?

Strange.

If she were her usual self, she would’ve dashed toward me the moment she opened her eyes, throwing herself onto me and kissing without hesitation.

She was like an NPC in an open-world game that collided with an obstacle. Even if her advance was blocked, she would have charged at me without any change in her spirit, as I had always seen and experienced her doing.

Having gotten used to her chaotic actions and manic behavior, the current regression in her attitude was rather unfamiliar and strange to me.

”You’re not coming···· back····. I’ll, I won’t···· come back again····.”

Gulp, her sorrowful voice flooded my ears as if the words were coughed out alongside her unspilled tears.

It felt more accurate to say the cries were intertwined with her words than the other way around.

From the faint words I managed to catch, it seemed like the Saintess misconstrued the Ranobel priest’s chatter about becoming her new attendant with the meaning that I wouldn’t come to see her again.

While it was a rather excessive assumption, it surprisingly brought me close to the truth of the story.

I want to quit.

That had always been on my lips since I became the Saintess’s attendant, and it was a dream I swore to achieve someday, after all.

”W-Where would I go, leaving you, Saintess? Look, I came to see you again today. The priest seems to love playing pranks, maybe he went a bit too far because he wanted to get closer to you. I’m really close with that priest too. He often pulls such mischievous pranks on me as well, to the point where we end up arguing!”

Feeling just a tad guilty, I rambled on about things the Saintess would likely want to hear.

Of course, I didn’t forget to sneak in a few defenses for the Ranobel priest along the way.

Reluctantly, but I was here to rescue that guy, so I had to gradually lessen the Saintess’s bad impressions of him whenever the opportunity arose.

”R-Really?”

”Of course. Really.”

”O-You’re not going···· anywhere····?”

”I promise. I won’t leave your side without your permission. I’m your guardian priest after all.”

”····”

As I gently patted her head with a smile, it seemed like the Saintess’s gloomy heart had softened a little.

The strength of her arms wrapped around me remained unchanged, but her crimson eyes gazing up at me had a distinctly different sparkle than before.

And how could I let this golden opportunity slip by?

”So, about that. Saintess, I actually have some urgent business with that friend of yours, so if it’s not too much trouble, could you return that friend back to normal?”

And right at this moment.

”Huh? Brother will ask like this. Welna.”

A perfect timing, a perfect angle for a divine move.

The response from the Saintess that followed was this.

”····Lies.”

*