The Priest Wants to Retire

〈 Chapter 78 〉 Secret Weapon

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Hunched against the firmly closed Meeting Room door, Beltein felt an unprecedented tension, like a thief sneaking into a noble’s house, persistently perking up her ears.

Among the mess of Fairy Tale Books sprawled indiscriminately in the Meeting Room, she had disgracefully mixed in a few adult novels.

The culprit behind this sin deserving divine punishment was none other than her.

A saintess, who should uphold purity, had surrounded the sacred Sanctuary she resided in with books discussing sexual acts between men and women.

It was an extremely grievous sacrilege, a serious matter that could even lead to a religious trial.

But to Beltein, who vowed to stop at nothing to keep the Priest bound to the Saintess, such threats were no longer threats at all.

Having closely assisted the Priest who had been the Saintess’s aide for so long, she had long since grasped the delicate relationship between the Priest and the Saintess.

At times, unable to withstand the Saintess’s bold affection assault, the Priest would push her away, only for her to cling back obstinately with her hands, creating a wobbly balance that could collapse at any moment.

Once, Beltein had hoped that this unstable deadlock would stretch out as thin and long as possible, but now she desperately wished for that balance to crumble at any second.

Even though she, who fully remembered the Saintess’s life before she became one, could only vaguely surmise why the Saintess was so devoted to the Priest, she could not grasp it entirely.

The most important point for Beltein at this moment was that because of some special power possessed solely by the Priest, the Saintess’s personality, thought to have vanished without a trace, was gradually reclaiming its original form.

Beltein’s mind was filled with schemes to spark romance between the Saintess and the Priest during this seven-day grace period leading up to the Blessing Ceremony so that the responsible Priest would willingly choose to stay by the Saintess’s side.

She had to hurry.

The upper echelons of the Vatican were quite irritated that a lowly commoner like him had been selected to be the Saintess’s aide.

They were openly undermining his work environment and inciting other priests to ostracize him within the Monastery.

Defending him from their dirty tricks to drive him out of the Monastery was an exhausting task.

Moreover, because the Priest himself had no desire to continue as the Saintess’s aide, it was clear to Beltein that if she simply sat idly by, he would soon disappear from his spot like a lifeline of hope.

“That can’t happen…!”

The dreadful memories of the nightmarish days after the Saintess had become the Saintess still stuck to the inside of Beltein’s eyelids like rust on iron.

It felt like looking at a stuffed doll crammed full of cotton in a space where everything a person should inherently possess had been scraped away.

No, calling it a doll might be too generous.

If a doll had threads attached, it could potentially move or speak if someone helped it.

Even if that doll lacked will, one could still be led to believe in the existence of the puppet by seeing it fluttering in accordance with the puppeteer’s intentions, like a child convinced that the puppet show figures were real, hoping she might still exist in this world.

But she wasn’t even a puppet.

She was just a vessel.

A mere vessel to temporarily hold a precious item.

Her heart lay silently still, and her pulse had ceased to flow.

She neither tried to eat nor drink, and it was questionable if she could even blink her eyes for a single moment.

Thanks to the raging Divine Power within her, she was alive nonetheless.

But Beltein couldn’t be sure if calling her alive was appropriate for her at that time, who had no heartbeat and no breath, lacking any semblance to a living being.

It was hellish time.

Staring vacantly at the empty air while sitting despondently on the Meeting Room floor, Beltein had desperately suppressed the murderous intent to slaughter those who had celebrated the Saintess as an unparalleled masterpiece.

Perhaps her sister might come back.

She knew all too well it was merely an optimistic and hopeful assumption, but when her sister returned to her side, she thought it was the elder sister’s role to create a place for her to lie down.

It was nothing more than a flimsy escape from a pitiful reality, shameful even to be called atonement.

Yet Beltein had no doubt that such ragged belief had held up her heart through several near collapses.

Thus, the moment the man appeared and the Saintess began to move again was nothing less than a salvation for Beltein.

When she first witnessed her sister—who had become like a decorative statue—move her arms and assert her desires, she had sat on the floor, overcome with emotion, tears streaming down for quite some time.

Swish.

Gently tracing her flawless, unburned facial skin, Beltein reinforced her resolve once more.

She had already awakened the Saintess’s spirit once and even healed wounds that shouldn’t have healed.

How those miraculous events unfolded was of little importance.

As the saying goes, if coincidence happens three times, it becomes inevitable; having faced repeated miracles that saved her, it was only natural for Beltein to firmly believe that he would grant another miracle.

The plans were already set.

Since the Saintess, whose mental age remained unchanged while her body matured, expressed affection through kisses, that would be her maximum method of showing affection.

There was no other way. The Saintess, surrounded by secular laws, couldn’t possibly know of any other ways to express herself.

Therefore, to lure that timid young man, she needed to increase the variations of her affection campaigns.

The scheme she’d come up with was to bury adult novels.

With some time for her thoughts to ferment, it was obvious what would happen when the now spongy-minded Saintess encountered those novels.

There was no need to enhance the Saintess’s appearance beyond what it already was. No, it was impossible.

Just by merely showcasing herself from afar would cause fainting spells among people, an ethereal beauty unlike anything in this world.

Even before the official Guardian Priest was appointed, among the purely holy maidens serving her, there had been quite a few who, entranced, attempted to touch the Saintess’s body, becoming living taxidermy like the previous Ranobel Priest.

Their minds soon returned to normal, so no major catastrophe occurred, but those who knew the tale sometimes compared the Saintess to the fateful fruit that seduced Adam in the Garden of Eden.

Hence, the possibility that the Priest might not be attracted to the Saintess’s physical appearance was very slim.

Beltein had also confirmed in advance that he possessed no lack of desires.

She clearly remembered.

Whenever she stretched high into the sky from time to time, the Priest would subtly direct his gaze toward her chest.

He seemed to think he wasn’t caught, but Beltein’s body, which even the solemn priest’s cloak couldn’t hide, specialized in captivating men’s gazes.

Thus, Beltein herself had become naturally attuned to capturing men’s lecherous stares.

If he was a type who showed no interest in women with small breasts, then she would use “this.”

Gazing down at her secret weapon, which couldn’t be fully supported with one arm, Beltein resolutely reaffirmed her determined will.

There was not much resistance.

Unlike other men who would stare at her chest, his gaze felt oddly oppressive but not unpleasant.

She had never learned how to seduce men and felt no need to do so in the past.

However, while selecting the adult novels to bury in the Meeting Room, She had mentally noted at least the theory.

Just then…

Bang!

“Ahhh!”

The Meeting Room door that Beltein had been leaning against swung wide open suddenly, causing her to tumble to the ground as she involuntarily rolled sideways, a sharp scream escaping her lips.

Immediately afterward, her breath caught at the shocking sight unfolding before her.

“S-Saintess?!”

Regis, bound tightly with an unknown white rope all over his body.

And dragging behind him a giant bear plushie, the Saintess walked out of the Meeting Room, holding onto the back of his neck.

“Sister! Please help the Saintess!”

The priest’s urgent voice echoed in her awakened consciousness like an echo in a cavern, flowing with undeniable resolution.

“I’m leaving here.”

The Saintess’s sudden declaration of running away just before the Blessing Ceremony stole Beltein’s speechless response.

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