The Priest Wants to Retire

Chapter 7



〈 Episode 7 〉 Vacation

*

Vacation.

Who wouldn’t be captivated by such a thrilling word? At least for me, it feels like the light in the darkness, an oasis in the desert.

Even if it’s just a mirage that will vanish in half a day.

An exit permit. That’s the name of the sacred relic fluttering in my hand, shining with an otherworldly glow. I wonder if this is how Joan of Arc felt holding the banner of Jehovah. A vivid sense of exhilaration surged from my lower belly.

When my desperate resignation was denied, and my buried past was unearthed, I thought the world was coming to an end. But this flimsy piece of paper, what does it mean? Like a boat tossed in a storm, my tumultuous heart suddenly found peace, and my faith, thought long dried up, began to swell again.

I guess I must have been struggling lately.

‘It seems you’ve been quite tired lately. I will grant you special permission for a solo outing this time. How about going to the village to relieve your fatigue for a change?’

The calm voice of my enemy and benefactor, Sister, echoed in my mind.

Eat and be gone. Though it felt like a shady proposal, the bait was too tempting for me to resist, and before I knew it, I had already received the exit permit from her.

Freedom!

I felt like I was about to release a booming cheer. But still, acting so impulsively in front of Sister might not have been appropriate. A vague regret flickered through my mind.

Once, I couldn’t comprehend what insiders meant when they said they felt like they weren’t alive if they didn’t step outside the house for a day.

I couldn’t fathom why they didn’t understand the joy of spending time idly, basking in the phytoncides of my warm and cozy room, mocking them for their foolishness.

But now, I think I could partially understand their feelings, and I felt I could even speak for them.

Living in a place where I couldn’t even eat what I wanted, had no suitable entertainment, and lacked the internet to make time vanish is not a home. It’s just a sealed space.

Therefore, contemplating an escape from such discomfort is nothing less than the primal instinct of humans seeking a comfortable life.

Ever since being appointed as the exclusive guardian priest to the Saint, I had been halfway imprisoned in the chapel due to the ridiculous principle that I must not stray more than a few dozen meters from her. Thus, I naturally realized this truth.

It’s been about half a year now that I’ve begrudgingly adhered to a life akin to the submissive beings bound to the scriptures. I can scarcely even remember what the scenery outside this chapel looks like.

So now, finally, amid the dark labyrinth where I saw no escape, having snatched the wings of freedom known as a solo outing, I don’t think I need to elaborate on how I feel.

Even if a stranger suddenly smacked me on the back of the head, I could probably just smile it off with confidence.

BAM!

Was it the nonsense in my head that brought about this misfortune? It happened right after. I heard a heavy thud on the top of my head.

THUD TAP TAP

The ominous noise of a hard object breaking, along with small clumps of dirt, scattered through my hair, obstructing my vision.

”····Is that a flowerpot?”

The strange object that landed on my head was a petite flowerpot.

Despite the existence of all kinds of extraordinary things in this fantasy world, such an artificial object could not have naturally fallen from the sky. I figured it must have been knocked off a windowsill by the wind.

”Oh my goodness! Are you hurt at all, Father Regis!”

Due to someone’s awkward acting tone likely heard at a middle school arts festival, I could easily deduce the circumstances of the incident.

”Father Nobel…”

Nobel Wright.

Born of noble blood, with a blessed background. Handsome with striking features. Even at a young age, he possessed talents that far outmatched seasoned priests.

He was a living testament to the hypothesis that God discriminates among his creations. If I hadn’t suddenly appeared, it would have been a foregone conclusion that he would have been selected as the Saint’s exclusive priest.

By the way, I secretly call him Father Ranobel. No special reason, just because it sounds cool.

”One of the new maids I hired accidentally dropped a flowerpot while cleaning, and you happened to be standing right below it! What an incredible coincidence!”

His voice trembled, as if he was barely holding back laughter.

Thinking about the absurd questions I’d face next already made my head ache, but given my position, I couldn’t show it, so I put on an awkward smile and replied softly.

”Right? How strange. Such a coincidence.”

Maybe my formal reply displeased him.

He furrowed his brow slightly but soon returned to his usual polished expression.

”Oh dear! You’re not mad, are you?”

What?!

For a moment, it felt like I heard that voice in my head.

Since being appointed as the Saint’s exclusive priest, facing the envy and jealousy of other priests who follow the Saint had long become part of my everyday life, but I could say that Ranobel’s feelings towards me were on a whole different level.

He nitpicks my every action and even seems determined to instigate wrongdoing against me as a priest who should be living a life without shame before God.

Still, throwing a flowerpot at someone’s head like that? Unless it directly leads to death, I suppose young priests often act carelessly, thinking they can fix anything with healing authority.

I’m lucky it was me. That’s attempted murder, you know?

”Ah! I’m so sorry! A noble person personally appointed as the exclusive priest of the Saint wouldn’t scold someone over a mere flowerpot falling on their head! How could I make such a mistake! Particularly to you, the Saint’s guardian priest!”

There he goes again, eyes bulging.

His exaggerated actions, like a musical actor, evoked a certain eeriness.

I can understand the feeling of despair he experiences after having his well-deserved prestigious position usurped by an undeserving outsider like me. But does he even consider that the outsider might also have unavoidable circumstances?

Honestly, I’d love to hand over the exclusive position to him and enjoy the life of an ordinary citizen without heavy responsibilities. But I know well that the Vatican won’t tolerate such sloppy behavior, so I decided to fold away the optimistic thought that suddenly popped into my mind.

”····I’m fine. Please lift your head. Also, please tell the maid that she doesn’t need to worry about this incident····.”

A throbbing headache set in.

Not because of the flowerpot pressing on my head, but because of my own ridiculous situation, worrying about someone whose very existence was questionable.

”Ah, how kind! Indeed, the title of the Saint’s guardian priest is not just for show! I can’t help but admire your vast generosity!”

”Haha····.”

It seemed his sarcasm was about to go on indefinitely, so I decided to just let it go in one ear and out the other.

Experience taught me that if I left him alone for about an hour, he would eventually tire himself out and leave.

”Oh, by the way! I hear you applied for an outing!”

”Huh? Ah, yes, that’s true, but how do you know, Father?”

”While you were away, the Sister personally asked me if I could temporarily fill in for the Saint’s escort! Haha! That Sister! Asking me, of all people!”

”Ah, I see····.”

Looks like that’s how things turned out.

Though his personality might have a few quirks, his prowess as a priest is undeniable. There are more than enough people who would fill this role, but if you asked for the one most suited, they would all name him. In fact, this current arrangement feels twice as stable as before.

”Rest easy! I, Nobel Wright, will fulfill your position with all my might! So please enjoy your outing to the fullest! Take it as easy and long as possible!”

”Ah····. Okay····.”

It felt like I was looking into the eyes of a shady phone salesman. I understand his feelings, but seeing a priest so blatantly revealing his nefarious intentions was hardly a pleasant sight.

The limited time the Sister granted me for my outing is at most half a day. Whether it’s a joyful opportunity to briefly enjoy the role of an exclusive guardian priest or a secret plan to steal the position from me in that short time, who knows?

I couldn’t read minds, so there was no way to know his true intentions, but if it were the latter, I’d sincerely support him; I hope he achieves his goal.

”Thank you. Thanks to you, my heavy heart feels much lighter now. Now, I’ll entrust everything to you, Father Nobel.”

”No! It’s me who should be thanking you! Father Regis! Hahaha!”

Though his cheerful demeanor as if he had just won the world weighed a bit on my mind, it could hardly compare to the joy of having permission for an outing after half a year, so I quickly brushed off the dirt from my hair and left.

Surely, nothing would happen, right?

My simplistic and carefree way of thinking pushed me forward.

The news of Father Ranobel’s demise reached me about five hours later.

*



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