The Priest Wants to Retire

〈 82nd Chapter 〉 Superiority Complex

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The intoxication had long since faded, yet the Hero was still unable to fully break away from the lingering echoes of a dream that had swept through her thoughts.

It was as if invisible ropes were tying her wrists, and with her arms held tightly against her chest, she stared blankly into the void, looking like a drugged addict.

“Ugh…”

The slurred words that escaped her lips were not even from her consciousness.

They were a result of her lips, absent-mindedly moving as she chased after the blurry scenery beyond the dreamy haze—a fragment of awareness.

If someone truly existed in this world who was drunk with dreams, they would undoubtedly resemble her current state.

“It was just a dream…”

In fact, this wasn’t the first time she dreamed of intertwining bodies with the Priest.

No matter how great a hero burdened with the mission of bringing peace to the world she was, she was still an ordinary girl of a certain age.

It was impossible to completely suppress the primitive desire of wanting to be close to someone she loved.

Yet the content of her dreams had mostly been innocent, involving being wrapped in his arms all day, rubbing her face against his cheek, or lying down with her head on his knee while they shared quiet conversations.

It was her guilt.

She believed it was unreasonable for her to monopolize his affection when she had uprooted everything he held dear.

Had he been a lecherous man with great interest in women, she would have willingly welcomed his desires with her body.

But she had been thoroughly fooled by his claim that as a Priest, he swore purity to the divine and had no worldly desires. Ultimately, she had to firmly abandon her wicked desires.

However, the Priest’s intoxicating kiss had poured fuel onto the dying embers of her desires.

The moment he had kissed the back of her hand, the Hero recalled.

He had confessed to being a lecher and had felt sexual attraction towards her.

In reality, he had only murmured what was likely an acceptable reply to her almost threatening plea.

But the Hero, unaware of the actual circumstances, took his words as a kind of implicit consent.

I want to share love with the Priest.

The Priest desires my body.

Then is there really any reason to hold back?

Mutual understanding. The destination that two people who desire to possess each other are bound to reach soon.

A most shameless assumption that she had refrained from imagining until now suddenly illuminated the Hero’s mind like a flash.

Marriage. And…

Gulp

A sinister moan suddenly echoed in the quiet room.

Finally, just like a mother gently caressing her belly, the Hero slowly brushed her left hand against her own body.

It was an unconscious search.

A token that she had become his, and proof that he had become hers.

A wedding ring.

“…”

But the hollow sensation felt from the fingertips was a clear sign that she was foolishly chasing after the dream that had slipped away.

“Huff… Ha…”

The substitute she had settled upon was the smell of the Priest’s lips resting on the back of her hand. The scent of his saliva soaked into her skin.

“Sigh… Ha… The Priest who appeared in my dream without permission… It’s your fault, Priest…”

Such a flimsy excuse. Absurd reasoning.

But at this moment, the Hero was convinced that this was the only way to calm the intense heat boiling inside her like magma.

She often found it curious when people would declare they would never wash their hands after shaking hers.

But now, she could deeply empathize with that feeling.

It was only natural to wish to possess the scent left by a beloved person forever.

She wasn’t wrong. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

If anyone had erred, it would certainly be that man who had carelessly left his sticky, thick pheromones on her.

“Hey, did you hear that? Regis was apparently…”

At that moment.

Just as she was about to bring her lips slowly closer to her hand, the Hero suddenly flinched, hearing someone’s voice from outside the room.

‘Wh-what was I about to do!’

The face that had been moving closer to her hand instantly jerked back, and her anxious demeanor dripped with muddled regrets.

But this was also proof that the light of reason had returned to her vision clouded by her wicked instincts.

“Regis and Sister Beltein have applied to go out together!”

The animated voice was from the servants chatting away in the corridor.

If she were an ordinary person, she would have hardly understood their conversation, let alone noticed who was outside in the corridor, due to her guarded emotions.

Yet her hearing, vastly exceeding that of humans, caught every word of their exchange.

The Priest going out alone with a woman! This cannot be overlooked!

Had it been the usual Hero, she would have undoubtedly burst through the door, shouting something similar.

But for some reason, at this moment, the Hero maintained a calmness that was no different from usual.

‘Why is that? In the past, just the thought of the Priest being alone with a woman would have sent my heart racing! But now I feel nothing! Moreover, that person was someone who once tried to keep me away from the Priest! Why am I not causing a fuss like I used to over such trivial matters?! Hah! Could this be…?!’

The Hero’s gaze suddenly turned to her own hand.

The object that the Priest had carved on her hand of his own free will. A token of affection.

The ease filling the Hero’s mind stemmed from that very place, and she vaguely sensed it.

“Ah! I understand now! This is the dignified demeanor of a beloved woman! The maturity of an adult!”

It could be called a model of a Priest; he had never shown such behavior towards others.

The chances that he had acted similarly with other renowned beauties in the Hero Party were incredibly slim.

It was also the reason the Hero had to take the Priest’s word that Priests had no worldly desires at face value.

Thus, she was certain that the only woman to receive such a high-level intimacy as a hand kiss from him was herself.

He certainly would not have offered it to even the Saintess.

Even if he had, it would have been as a result of her asserting her authority over him with status and power, rather than an act of his own free will.

Therefore.

This hand, drenched in his affection, could rightfully belong to her alone. No, it could be considered her exclusive possession.

“Hehe…”

As if holding a priceless treasure, the Hero suddenly clasped her left hand tightly, beaming as she dropped down onto the bed.

Thud thud.

Her legs, occasionally tapping lightly on the bed sheets, perfectly mirrored the overwhelming joy she was currently feeling.

The resentment she had held towards the Saintess, which had tormented her all this time, had vanished like snow melting away.

No. Rather, where her resentment had burned away, a light sympathy was beginning to sprout.

She was certain that the Saintess had never received such a beautiful gift, a genuine expression of affection filled with the Priest’s sincerity.

Moreover, the connection between the Saintess and the Priest would end the moment the blessing ceremony concluded, a truly shallow relationship.

She was destined to continue to share her intentions with him and deepen their bond. In the distant future, she might receive even greater gifts.

But the Saintess would have to watch their love from afar.

Sadly.

Despite being captivated by his enchanting charm, the Hero felt nothing but pity for the Saintess, who would not even receive the remnants of that affection.

“I was foolish! In a society where the one who has gives to the one who has not should be the unwritten rule! Let alone the Saintess being two years younger and still inexperienced! How could I even think of truly clashing with such a saintly woman! I have realized once again how small my capacity is!”

There wasn’t a trace of malice in her bright eyes.

What currently filled the Hero’s thoughts was a fierce self-confidence, a touch of sympathy, and a faint sense of superiority.

“Perhaps I should take this opportunity to ask for reconciliation with the Saintess! But first! Having been cooped up in this room for so long, I should take a moment to breathe in the outside air! Yes! A short walk sounds perfect!”

With that, the Hero shook off her distractions, and her back was adorned with beautiful, translucent wings, as if representing her hopeful heart.

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