The Priest Wants to Retire

〈 Chapter 31 〉 Meeting (1)

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What a beautiful day.

The birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming.

On such a gracious day, as a refined indoor person, it is only proper to lazily lounge indoors, making a dent in the pile of unread books. Yet here I am, cursed with hard labor, wandering about in the great outdoors like a lost soul.

At this moment, when the morning worship of the congregation has just ended, I could certainly use this precious time, one of the few moments free from being exploited by the Saintess, to catch my breath or even catch up on some much-needed sleep.

However, just yesterday, due to some mysterious circumstance beyond comprehension, the Sister in charge of all duties at this monastery suddenly fell ill.

With the Sister’s workload so crushing that the other sisters were clearly struggling to keep up with even a fraction of it, I, with my soft heart, couldn’t turn down their tearful request for a little assistance.

It’s just one less person after all, and yet the whole system seemed to be falling apart.

The difference between people like me, who are ten a penny, and someone capable of stepping in is like day and night.

I knew the Sister was a serious workaholic, but feeling her authority firsthand stirred up a mix of awe and shame in me, like a hazy thought fluttering in the air.

How long had I been walking?

Finally, I reached my destination.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Setting down the drums I had been carrying on my shoulder one by one, I forced a smile to my lips, trying to hide my displeasure at this unexpected labor.

“I’m here to deliver the four barrels of wine you ordered.”

“Oh my!”

Right after, a kindly aunt wearing an apron rushed out from the back door of the shop to greet me.

What I was doing at the behest of the sisters was delivering wine, one of the monastery’s main sources of income.

It felt somewhat off that the high-ranking folks would guzzle wine pressed by barefoot, pure, and lovely Sisters even if just one strand of hair fell into the food.

But I knew that thanks to the refined tastes of some high-ranking individuals, there were others who could scrape by with their harsh daily lives. By now, I had simply come to accept it.

However, sometimes, inspection teams equipped with magic tools made from unicorn horns come to determine the virginity of the Sisters who squash the grapes.

It took a while to get used to the surreal scene of high-quality wine labels boldly declaring “Definitely Virgin!” in big letters.

Even now, I flinch a bit when such sights cross my vision.

“Oh my! You carried all this heavy stuff by yourself? Priest young man? Oh my! You look so slender, but you must have some muscle! Your future partner is in for quite a workout at night! Hahaha!”

“Haha…”

The aunt counted the barrels I brought in, her surprise evident that I had no companions with me.

It had indeed been tough, but compared to the training my comrades subjected me to in the past, this was nothing, so I was left with an awkward smile instead of a proper reply.

Carrying a monster’s egg the size of a human torso while being chased by the monster itself, continuously climbing and descending a pretty steep hill—it was a trial I’d never want to experience again.

Even forced hikes due to my boss at work were supposed to at least ensure my safety.

Thanks to those experiences, my strength and stamina had greatly improved, but I thought of those unremarkable gains as meager compensations for the horrific trauma I had endured that day.

“Oh my! Look at your red face! Drink some water! You’re sweating buckets and sitting there all wrapped up in clothes! Of course, you’re boiling! At least roll your sleeves up! It’s frustrating just watching you!”

“Oh, no! I’m fine!”

I quickly pulled back to escape the aunt’s kind gesture to roll my sleeves up.

My clergy attire is fully covering my neck, with every button done up on the stifling black priest’s robe.

I know she meant well, considering the heat, but unfortunately, I have some embarrassing things around my neck and arms that I dare not expose on the main street.

And my red face isn’t from the heat.

“Anyway, thank you! Strong priest young man! See you again!”

“Yes. May the divine smile upon you.”

With what might seem like a rather formal phrase from priests, I hurriedly moved on toward my next destination.

Since this outing wouldn’t count against my outing permit.

Having finished all my tasks, this golden freedom given to me could reasonably be seen as the proper reward for my labor. I had to enjoy it!

“Maybe I’ll buy a book.”

With that light heart, I headed toward the bookstore.

Why did I do that?

◈◈◈

The security in this area is reasonably okay.

Yes, okay enough. Not bad.

This means that while it doesn’t happen too often, there’s still a fair share of evil deeds going on—not too many, but certainly enough to keep things interesting.

“You scummy bastard!”

“Ugh! Ugh!”

The sound of a person kicking another is surprisingly underwhelming.

It’s less impactful than when a stray cat accidentally knocks over a flower pot, and even the frightened yipping of a puppy is louder when it senses a stranger.

In the bustling city, unless one actively listens, it’s the type of sound that could easily go unnoticed.

Yet that sound has a force to it—enough to catch the attention of my conscious mind, which was eagerly anticipating the new books I would soon find in the bookstore, stirring up some unease.

In my old job, a paragon of virtue, someone who never forgave such evil doings, was the leader. My role back then was akin to that of a mere passerby witnessing the leader’s process of reforming villains from afar.

But—

With no champion of justice to reform the evildoers at this moment, it would be quite difficult to just immerse myself into my role as ‘passing pedestrian’ with so many distractions around me.

“Die! Die, you scum!”

“Ugh! I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

In a dim alleyway where no one’s gaze could easily reach, a person was being mercilessly beaten by another—a pitiful sight, though not too rare.

In the past, I would have easily ignored it, thinking it was none of my business.

Now, I’ve turned into that annoying person who can’t just walk past trivial matters without getting involved, most likely due to the influence of that leader and those around them.

“Excuse me… is it really necessary to go that far?”

“Huff, huff… and who are you?”

As soon as I spoke, the man suddenly turned his gaze toward me.

He seemed to be still getting his anger out, and even though he had stopped kicking, his breathing was rough and erratic. It felt like I was staring at a wild beast.

A muscular physique, with intimidating tattoos running from his shoulders down to his hands. He looked like someone desperate to show he engages in rough work, and I was already regretting my approach.

“Look, I don’t really know what brought this on, but can you just refrain from violence…?”

“I won’t say it twice. If you don’t want to die, scram.”

“Haha… Sorry… But, as you can see, I’m a priest, so I can’t just pretend I didn’t see this…”

“Ugh… Dammit… damn priests…”

It was right then that the man began to slowly close the distance between us, his irritation palpable.

“Alright then, if you want to get beaten up, I’ll gladly oblige. Isn’t that right, priest?”

“Hah, haha…”

As the man loomed over me, I could feel the shadows wrap around my body, and he finally questioned me.

“What’s your deal? What gives you the courage to act like this? Huh? You think you’re tough? You think you can handle this?”

“Well, to some extent…”

“Ha Ha Ha!”

For the record, I hate fighting. I’m not good at it. I have no confidence at all.

So, please, I just hope I don’t end up with a broken bone.

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