The Priest Wants to Retire

〈 Episode 4 〉 Saintess. This cannot happen. (3)

*

A profound saying passed down through generations in my warm homeland suddenly came to mind.

“When kindness continues, one begins to think it’s a right.”

Is there a more explicit expression of human nature than this?

If the wretched nature of humans, who arrogantly assume that what is within their grasp completely belongs to them, is due to the intentional design of the entity we call God, then one must admit that the creator has quite the talent. As a mere creature, I’d even like to give a sharp quip about it.

“Saintess… Please step aside…”

“…”

A young girl, with arms outstretched blocking my path, made my head throb.

It felt like watching an anteater in a threatening stance from a wildlife documentary.

That pose, which I had thought was trivial when an anteater did it, could appear so threatening depending on the user. As I was filled with ridiculous thoughts stemming from escapism, a divine voice echoed directly in my head, almost as if it was lifting my consciousness.

“Chooook… I didn’t…”

There was an accusatory tone, as if chiding someone who neglected what must be done, directed at me.

However, the emotion welling up inside me was somewhat far from guilt or sin.

Yes, if I had to define it, it was abominable annoyance.

I was certainly aware that the feelings I harbored as a Guardian Priest, who should devote himself to the Saint with all one’s heart and sincerity, were irreverent and dark.

Before being a Guardian Priest, as a decent clergyman, protector, and man, the thought crossed my mind that this was not right.

“Saintess, as I mentioned before meals, any unhealthy physical contact between us ends today.”

“…?”

She tilted her head, as if she couldn’t understand what I was saying.

I had no way to know if she genuinely didn’t understand or if she was just pretending not to, but at least it was clear that she, who usually lived in her own world, was now listening to my voice. Taking advantage of this momentum, I urgently spilled out the words I had been holding back.

“From the beginning, embracing each other, petting heads, or kissing is not the correct relationship between a Saint and her Guardian Priest. If such scandals reach the ears of other believers or the citizens who revere you, your dignity, and even the honor of the Vatican, may be greatly tarnished. Saintess, you lack awareness of how esteemed your position is.”

Moreover, there was insufficient consideration for my deteriorating mental health.

Since being appointed as the exclusive Guardian Priest of the Saint, the constant threats of murder, presumed to be from jealous seniors, had been left at my door daily. If they learned of any physical contact between the Saint and me, that would undoubtedly lead to disaster.

“Most importantly, my body is a shield to protect the Saint, not a toy. Constantly touching, licking, and biting my body… even I can no longer overlook this.”

Perhaps because I finally voiced the pent-up grievances I’d been holding back, fragments of the memories that had tormented me rushed through my mind like a panorama.

The girl, a beautifully divine creation that seemed like a supreme work of art woven by the gods, buried her breath in my skin, where I could hear her heart beating.

It felt as if something buried within me was being unearthed, her sculpted nose poking at my skin carelessly, trying to strip away the last remnants of my self-control with the enticing scent that mixed sweet milk and rich honey.

Above all, what drove me mad was those cherry-like lips that accidentally made alluring sounds every time they touched my skin.

Honestly, it was almost a miracle that I had managed to maintain my sanity up to this point, standing so close to that intoxicating ecstasy.

“So let’s put an end to this ‘family play’ now.”

Clenching my fist, I spoke those desperate words solemnly.

I hoped my strong will would reach her. I earnestly wished she would understand my intentions.

Thud!

Perhaps sensing something unusual from my demeanor that was so different from usual, she approached me slowly with a nervous, awkward gait.

“Chooook…”

“No, that’s not allowed.”

Just like always, she tried to bundle herself around me. I held her delicate shoulder to stop her steps and resolutely pushed her away.

It hurt my heart, but it was something that should have been done long ago.

The book tucked in my pants pocket. The author of “The Basics of Parenting: Raising Kids Without Losing It” said that during these times, one must harden their heart even more.

“In return, though it’s not exactly an exchange, from tomorrow, I will read two fairy tales during each meal. I will also ask the priest to omit the bell peppers, which the Saint dislikes, without Sister noticing. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know. I’ll prepare whatever is within my power.”

I emphasized the importance of compensation once again.

Simply saying no is the lowest of the low. When wishing to prohibit or restrict something for a child, it’s wise to prepare corresponding rewards, as the book stated.

“So, Saintess, starting tomorrow…”

Suddenly, the atmosphere around us sharpened, piercing through my insides.

A chill like a blade swept across my skin, but my heart, crying out like a terrified beast, was in a pitiful state.

“Sa, Saintess…?”

Crack!

She wrapped her arms around my waist, intertwined her fingers, and buried her face in my abdomen, blocking even the escape route.

That series of actions resembled a snake tightening its grip on its prey, and I can confidently say it was not an illusion or a mere whim.

With just a light exertion of her bones, she could have easily pushed me away. Yet now, the will that completely dominated my body was undoubtedly born from that feeble strength.

“K-Kuh…!”

It was then. Something invaded inside me.

At that moment, a sense of oppression, as if a transcendent being was pressing down on my soul from above, choked my breath.

It felt like an invisible hand was gripping my heart, forcibly accelerating the flow of my blood. All my senses became abnormally heightened, my bones and muscles squirmed, and an unexplainable omnipotence enveloped my entire being.

Without a doubt, this was the power said to be entrusted only to a handful of devoted girls by the divine. The ultimate authority exclusively granted to the Saint.

The Blessing of the Saint.

Originally, it was meant to be given to the Hero fighting against the Demon King, an intangible armor that would protect against evil and a key to open the forbidden door that allows a human brief glimpses of the omnipotent power of the divine.

But.

The Blessing of the Saint granted to one unworthy of it is no different from a poisoned chalice.

It was like pouring the ocean into a palm-sized paper cup, ensuring it would burst as I poured seawater until it broke.

Yes, what she was doing to me right now was precisely that.

She was the ocean. I was the paper cup. A mere paper cup that could be found everywhere.

“Hah… Ugh…!”

Not even a scream escaped.

One, two, three, four.

The more she layered her blessing upon me, the more I felt an odd sensation, like my insides were burning away, yet I felt no pain at all.

Then, as I sank deeper into a dark underwater world, burdened with heavy armor that didn’t fit, the last vestige of the desire to survive was stripped away from me.

Thud.

In an act of surrender, my knees buckled.

As if granted relief from the struggle for breath, my vision began to slowly clear.

We were at eye level. I found myself gazing at her, holding the fairy tale book we had read earlier against her chest, looking at my miserable state with the same calm demeanor as always.

Squeak.

Then, in the next moment, as if a dramatic change had set off a chain reaction, my tangled self-awareness witnessed a shocking sight before me.

Whoosh whoosh. The Saintess, with a desperate expression I had never seen before, carelessly ripped apart the fairy tale book that once delighted her, repeatedly stroking my cheeks.

“I… don’t… need… it… Anything… not needed…”

“Gah…! Gah…!”

For a moment, it seemed like she was angry or perhaps afraid of something, but ultimately, all that was speculation. It was clear I couldn’t discern her feelings in my current state.

Regrettably, it was too easy to foresee what she would do to me just after this.

Because sad premonitions are never wrong.

With my body and senses turned into mush, drooling messily, I forced my mouth to move with all my strength and desperately spit out words.

“L-Lips… Lips are… not… allowed…!”

“…”

“S-Saintess… My… feet…!”

“…”

“I… Well…!”

“…”

Underneath the cracks of consciousness falling into an abyss, how many times did my heart-wrenching appeals echo?

Peck.

With a blissful resonance, unidentifiable as reality or dream, my world faded to black.

*