Sacred Instruction (1)
“I couldn’t believe my ears. How could anyone do such a thing?”
“Right? Blasphemy is a serious crime, so we have to catch the culprit.”
Lucia nodded in agreement with my words, her face twisting into a frown as she let out a sigh.
“Haa... With society in such chaos, even petty criminals like that are popping up. What a headache.”
“...You’ve been really busy lately, haven’t you? I heard those groups are still causing trouble.”
“Don’t even get me started. The workload’s doubled, and I feel like I’m going insane. His Holiness sleeps less than five hours a week...”
“That’s... yeah, that’s pretty bad...”
I pictured the Pope’s face, tormented by sleepless nights. She was a good person. She’d hired me—a street rat—without prejudice. Once she saw my skills, she gave me unwavering support and encouragement. Incredibly competent, yet so compassionate. She was the perfect Pope.
But unfortunately, she was the Pope. Her only flaw was drowning in grueling duties day after day. I still couldn’t forget her face after pulling an all-nighter for four days straight, casting healing magic on herself. Or the pitiful, save me look she gave me after two days of no sleep when I clocked out. Sure, higher positions meant more responsibility, but that was basically slavery.
“Hoo...”
I let out a soft breath. The room felt a bit stuffy, so I fanned myself with my hand.
“You’re sweating a little. Hot?”
Lucia asked, puzzled. It was early summer, but still early morning. Not hot enough to sweat like this. Something felt off—my body was just... warm.
I scooted my chair closer to the desk.
“Mm... Not sure. It’s not that hot out.”
“Your face looks a bit flushed too. Caught a cold or something?”
“N-no... I’m f-fine. Nothing hurts.”
“Still, be careful. You never know.”
Tsk, slurp—
A sucking sound came from somewhere. I brushed it off as my imagination.
“Oh, and... about those dispatched priests last time. They were super grateful.”
“Uh, y-yeah...? I w-was worried I stole their work... Glad they liked it...”
“Well, who wouldn’t be happy if someone did their job for them?”
Lucia chuckled. Yeah, I probably sounded like a workaholic too. Who was I to pity the Pope?
“Still, that mission would’ve taken two weeks without you. You sped things up big time.”
“Hehe... See? No one but me, right?”
“Obviously. There’s no knight as strong or reliable as you.”
Slurp, schlick—
“Y-yeah... Th-thanks...”
The wet sucking echoed again, like licking something. What’s that noise...? My body was heating up more. Must be rain outside—early summer meant the rainy season was starting.
I clenched my fist and smiled at Lucia.
“...You’re really not sick? You look pale.”
Lucia’s face filled with worry. She brushed back her hair and sighed softly.
“Haa... Honestly. You’re too dedicated—that’s your problem. Slacking off once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”
“Y-you’re one to t-talk... aren’t you...?”
Slurp, schlu—
“I’m careful with my work. Dispatch spots can be rough, so you should watch out too.”
“I knooow... Th-thanks for worrying... always...”
“Ahem...”
Lucia cleared her throat, glancing at my face. She clapped her hands.
“Anyway... Th-that’s the report done. Call the emergency line if anything weird happens, got it?”
“Y-yeah... Got it...”
“Alright, have a good day.”
“You toooo...”
Click.
The Projection Stone’s hologram faded.
“Haaah...”
I felt my body heating up, exhaling hot breath. Something was wrong down there—a strange foreign sensation between my legs. Just tired, maybe...?
“Hng... Ah... Hn...”
Moans slipped out unbidden. It always happened lately during calls with Lucia. The erotic dreams starting up again...? Couldn’t rule it out.
I pushed the Projection Stone aside and stood slowly.
“Nn...”
Something sticky trickled down my thighs. Nothing on my lower half. Glossy groin, love juices trailing down my thighs.
“Mm...”
My head went fuzzy, drowsiness hitting. Shower... time.
Stumbling, I headed to the closet for clothes. Someone crawled out from under the desk—Lucy.
Licking her lips, satisfied smile. Why was Lucy under the desk? My foggy mind squeezed out the thought, but it vanished. She was just there.
“S-sis...”
Lucy approached slowly, hugging me. Then she grabbed my breasts, kneading them gently.
“Hng... Nn...”
“G-going to sh-shower... right...?”
“Y-yeah... Sh-shower...”
“Th-then... l-let’s wash t-together...”
I nodded. Feeling her hand slip inside my clothes, tweaking my nipples. Lucy and I headed to the shower.
****
The mansion investigation had stalled lately.
“Hm...”
I crossed my legs, sipping black tea in the parlor. Class was over; I’d brewed a cup to kill time.
If only we had solid evidence... Nearly two months in, and it was all suspicion. Detection spells everywhere reported ‘all clear.’ My protector charm was intact. The idea she’d lured me for sinister reasons was fading.
The only info: Rachel’s late husband. Not even reliable—overheard from a villager at dinner chatting about the mansion. He’d hesitated at first, but a drink loosened his tongue.
Originally, the mansion belonged to Rachel’s ex-husband, Desmond Charlotte. A man who’d lost his wife in an accident—that much I’d confirmed. He’d built the place in this remote village spot after her death. Lived there, mingling with locals.
Once, a plague hit the village. Cure existed, but too expensive. Not rich enough for everyone. Despair set in—then Desmond shared his wealth for treatments. Earned saintly status. Opened up, shared real bonds. Remarried, lived happily.
Until a year ago. Died from unknown causes. Now Rachel was seen as his killer.
Emotional speculation, but... She was definitely involved. Beyond that, just rumors.
...Should I ask her directly?
“Mm...”
I’d bought five bottles of wine from the village to broach it naturally. But barging in with booze might make me look weird. Some demons resisted poison/status effects, but succubi got drunk on alcohol. I couldn’t drink anything but wine per doctrine, but maybe she’d loosen up? Three bottles should do it, demon or not.
I downed the tea and headed to my room. Got cheese and dried fruit as snacks. Offer a drink—who’d refuse? If I stayed sober, I could pry info fast. Figure out the heat, the dreams too. Protected by holy power, I wouldn’t get wasted easily.
Rachel, whoever you are... I’ll uncover every secret.
****
Something was wrong.
“Oh my~ I had no idea you liked your drinks, Carrot.”
“I don’t... that much...”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Wine’s the water of life. Here... one more. Glug.”
“Uh, mmph...!”
Gulp, gulp—
I downed the glass at Rachel’s urging. Dizziness hit hard. Absurdity mixed in—my head spun.
Even so, Rachel flushed slightly, chugging from the bottle. A full liter.
Who the hell shots wine like that...! Not human, obviously.
Head already reeling. About twelve empty bottles on the floor—five mine, rest hers.
I’m done for... Six bottles down. My fault for not knowing the basement wine cellar, but her tolerance was insane. Even constant purification couldn’t keep up.
Clink—
I ignored the spinning vision, grabbed a bottle. Frowning at the label: ‘40%’.
Wine at 40%? Called wine, but... tricked.
Mine was 16%. She looked like she’d never touch booze, yet downed it like water.
I rubbed my hot face, scowling.
“Mm... Carrot?”
Rachel stared. Not drunk at all. I purified nonstop, but couldn’t match her. Plus, my low tolerance didn’t help.
Why am I so weak to alcohol...? About to pass out. Couldn’t sleep—ruin the plan.
I clung to consciousness, staring back. She slid closer, supporting my back, voice soft.
“You seem pretty wasted... Maybe stop here?”
“N-no... I can drink more...”
“Nn. You look wrecked. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Ugh...”
Everything was going opposite. Her hand slid down, supporting my side. Lip curled up.
What now? Just ask? How long with the kids? Thought you had a husband—haven’t seen him.
“Um, Rachel...”
Before I blacked out, I started. But she didn’t answer. Just red eyes gleaming, staring. Her gaze slithered over me.
“Ra-Rachel...?”
Eyes hungry. Hand rose, tapping my side-boob. Resist—but body limp. Head fogging more.
“Coming with booze late at night? You knew this might happen, right?”
“Wha...?”
Didn’t get it. Foreheads touched, eyes locked. Hers burned with lust.
“W-wait a sec...”
I tried pushing, but she intertwined fingers, shoved me to the wall.
“Ky...”
Head spun again. Consciousness fading.
“First time taking you before the kids...”
Nonsensical words. Bewildered, she pressed lips to my ear.
“Sleep well...”
Sweet whisper. Eyes drooped.
“Ah, uh...”
Couldn’t speak. Dumb noise, head lolled into her chest. Didn’t want to sleep—but overwhelming drowsiness won.
****
“Haa... Heh...”
“Yes... good. Lick a bit more. Use your tongue wide...”
“Huu...”
At Rachel’s words, Carrot worked her tongue eagerly. On all fours, lapping at the slightly wet pussy.
“Hehe... So cute.”
Like a puppy—Rachel smiled in satisfaction.
Her pussy was slick, but not from arousal. All Carrot’s saliva. Rachel lay on the bed, commanding service.
Carrot’s face flushed drunk-red. Sound Gate glowed bright, signaling excitement. But her technique was awful—no clue where it felt good. Serving, yet most aroused herself. Thighs sticky with her juices, squirming adorably.
Rachel chuckled, eyeing the Manus statue in the corner. Carrot’s weekly prayer idol. She’d washed off the old piss stains. Fun idea struck.
“That’s it... right there’s the clit. You know? Touch or lick it—feels amazing.”
“Heh... Wu...”
Lick, slurp—
Eager pussy-licking echoed. Rachel bit her finger hard, restraining the urge to pounce and absorb.
But she held back. This scene was more fun.
Licking a demon’s pussy on all fours before her goddess? Disgrace to a holy knight.
Carrot didn’t care. Sound Gate blazing, she licked devotedly.
Rachel glanced at the statue again. Licked her lips, smirking lewdly.
If Manus really existed, she’d say it to her face: Your creation’s no noble saint anymore. Just a heretic on hands and knees, drooling juices from her pussy, serving a demon wholeheartedly.
So thinking, Rachel lightly grabbed Carrot’s hair.
“That won’t please a woman.”
A bit rough—sacred instruction began.