The Priest Wants to Retire

〈 Chapter 12 〉 Hehe Can’t Go

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It was surely an auditory hallucination.

It’s common for anxiety to swell up to the point that small noises turn into delusions.

I thought of how timid personalities sometimes misinterpret the sound of droplets from a faucet as footsteps.

The fact that the tiny lips of the Saintess weren’t even twitching, combined with the chilling ominous undertones enveloping the words that pierced my heart, made my hypothesis all the more convincing.

”Saintess····?”

I tried to observe the Saintess’s expression, but in that brief moment, her quick response, burying her face into my neck, caused my attempt to fail.

And right after that.

Crack.

”Ugh!”

I felt a bite on my collarbone.

My facial muscles tensed up as if injected with lethal poison. My body remembered this behavior as one that the Saintess displayed when she was genuinely angry.

Suddenly, a sense of déjà vu hit me.

The memory of the very first time I was stabbed by a knife arose.

When that cold metal pierced my flesh and bones, it was like someone heating it up uncontrollably, followed by the horrifying sensation of my insides being drawn towards that source of heat. How many times had I tried to erase that feeling from my mind?

Starting from my toes all the way up to my knees, abdomen, and waist, my strength drained away, and as the surrounding noise became muffled like I was drowning, I experienced the seductive drowsiness that made my eyelids heavy amidst that tsunami of pain.

Ah, I’m definitely done for.

That was the only pathetic thought that came to mind.

The sensations were endless yet similar, just varying in intensity.

The Saintess’s pure white teeth pressing down on my skin were digging up the ghastly nightmare buried deep within me.

”Lies····. Lies····.”

The identity of the words stuck in my heart was finally revealed.

It didn’t seem like an auditory hallucination, but it also wasn’t quite a voice.

It was, in a sense, a wave. A disquieting resonance echoing in my mind without sound, as if the meaning itself was being transmitted directly.

”I hate lies. Lies are bad. Don’t go. Stay here. Be with me. Let’s be together.”

Before one phrase could conclude, the next would overlap, leaving but a few words to fully grasp their meaning.

”Wh-what do you mean lies! No! Saintess! I really···· ugh!”

She wouldn’t listen to any pitiful excuses.

The white current that crawled up from my fingertips and toes to my heart seemed to be speaking to me like that.

I felt like all the blood resonating in my body was going through a strange cycle of cooling and boiling.

The blessing of the Saint.

Supposedly the supreme authority entrusted to a handful of devout girls by God and believed to be the source of the power used by the Saintess when she brought the Ranobel Priest to such a state.

The oppressive anxiety, once like a thick fog, seemed to take on more concrete shapes, causing my body to tremble.

Saintess····. Could it be····.

”Can’t go····.”

The image of the disheveled Ranobel Priest flashed through my mind.

A lost soul. He looked like a mere puppet who couldn’t even walk without someone guiding him by a string, which accelerated my negative thoughts.

And I couldn’t help but recall.

I remembered seeing a child pleading for their parents to buy them a toy and how much it resembled the current behavior of the Saintess.

”For a lifetime····. Stay here for a lifetime····.”

Words that seemed to stem from distorted emotions emerged erratically.

I realized that all sensation below my waist had disappeared right after hearing those words.

”Cough!”

Thud.

Losing strength in my legs, I collapsed onto the floor.

Yet the fact that the Saintess’s whole body remained pressed tightly against mine did not change.

The sinister warmth transmitted through our skin. The dizzying scent brushing against my nostrils. My rough breath rose and fell, fluttering those delicate eyelashes.

Even amidst this urgent situation that could determine my life or death, I couldn’t help but notice all these pathetic aspects of myself.

For she was that beautiful, noble, and sacred.

I even thought that being stabbed by a knife seemed rather better. At least, I could get rid of, pull out, or even crush that ugly metal.

Is this it?

As I struggled to regain my fading consciousness, perhaps my last remaining shred of desire was slowly extinguishing like a candle flickering in the wind.

‘Priest!’

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in my thoughts, and I wondered, how would ‘she’ have reacted in such a situation?

The one who was excessively positive, reckless, and could never tolerate injustice.

If she embodied the very essence of ‘justice,’ would she have just given up like I was trying to do now?

Phew.

I let out a soft laugh.

Even as I said it myself, I realized how absurd that sounded.

No way. There’s no way that could happen.

Even if the heavens split, even if this entire world was engulfed in darkness so that not even an inch could be seen, she wouldn’t, she couldn’t abandon the foolish act of walking towards the light.

”Welna····. Let go of this····.”

”····No.”

I forced my fading consciousness to awaken by biting down on my tongue.

Normally, I would have deemed this wearisome and ugly and absolutely would not have chosen this option. It was a final struggle.

It wasn’t because I had some unfulfilled lingering feelings. And it certainly wasn’t because a sudden surge of unknown power and courage rose within me like the protagonists in other stories.

It was merely an impulsive act stemming from a desire to imitate the greatness she sometimes showed me.

”You told me to let go····.”

”N-no····.”

”Let go while I’m still being nice.”

”O-o-oh····?”

Me. Regis Lowville. 29 years old.

For the very first time in this life, I’m trying to scold a child.

◈◈◈

In this peaceful rural town filled with idyllic scenery, little could ignite a child’s heart like the procession of heroes and the cheers of citizens that followed.

The resonating trumpet sounds and colorful petals swirling like snowflakes injected color and vigor into the dreary gray streets, warming the perhaps cold hearts of children like morning sunshine.

Even the townsfolk barely managing to scrape by in their daily lives couldn’t reprimand their young ones for abandoning their chores to go watch the parade during these moments.

However, the heightened support and excitement often lead to unexpected troubles.

”Aaaaah!”

The tremendous noise and screams cut through the citizens’ cheers.

A cart tipped over with one wheel off. Right at that angle, a girl, barely just starting to walk, was curled up. One could easily guess that this was the aftermath of the cart trying to avoid the suddenly appearing child.

”You little brat!”

The expression of the audience darkened significantly, starting with the shout of a soldier directing the parade. No, it would be more appropriate to say they went pale.

Facing the child trembling like a rabbit in front of a predator, the soldier raised a blade that glinted ominously.

It was a scene so pitiful that any human with warm blood could not help but feel compassion, yet none there had the courage to stand up for the unfortunate child in distress.

”To have interrupted the Holy March of the Hero! And to dare put harm on the cart bearing the Hero’s statue! That vile crime! You’re prepared to pay with your life, aren’t you!”

”H-heh!”

As the soldier’s voice rose higher, the child’s expression grew darker, as if ink had been spilled.

For the child, whose ability to grasp the situation was still immature, it was only a vague fear, sensing that something was definitely going wrong.

Instinctively curling up, as if pricked by needles, the child realized that such a trivial action was insufficient against that massive blade, a tragic truth recognized by all but the child herself.

”Mia!”

Just then, a boy presumed to be the child’s sibling stepped in front of the soldier.

”I-I’m so sorry! Soldier! My sister committed a breach! I sincerely apologize! I promise to repay whatever a family caused! Please! Please have mercy!”

In shabby clothes with a disheveled appearance, without a hint of hesitation, the boy laid flat on the ground, which allowed the soldier to guess his impoverished situation even more.

And then he screamed again.

”Ha! You say you’ll repay for your whole life? Sure! If only the cart was damaged, that might have been possible! But the statue, custom-made by the royal family to laud the great achievements of the Hero, has been defiled by your sister! A thing like that can’t be repaid even with the life of a mere commoner!”

”Cough! I-I’m sorry···· I’m sorry!”

The desperate apologies spat out by the boy only fanned the soldier’s anger.

The pleas of those who know nothing and possess nothing are such a pitiful sight.

Yet the boy had no choice but to repeat himself.

Thinking maybe he could be forgiven. Perhaps someone could reach out to him.

The boy clung desperately to that dim hope, feeling it was the only way to protect his only sister, repeating this disgusting prayer that no one would heed.

”This is all! All! My negligence in managing my family! I’ll atone for the crime of tarnishing the Hero’s honor with my life! So! Please, let my sister go!”

”Shut up! How dare a commoner try to offer me advice!”

Just as the soldier seemed ready to dismiss all the boy’s heartfelt appeals, he raised his sword high into the sky.

”Execution!”

”Gah!”

The boy, having tightly shut his eyes, was left with no visual information but heard a brave, beautiful battle cry ringing through.

”Hero Punch─!!!”

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