Do you like it?
Do you like it?
As I stepped inside through where the blown-away carriage door used to be, Elisia sat me down as if she had been waiting for this.
"...What is this?"
"Comb it. You said you'd comb it for me."
"Me? Don't you hate people touching your hair?"
"You seem to know everything anyway, so why bother avoiding it? It's too much of a hassle for me to do it myself, so just get to it."
Elisia slightly turned her head and glared at me.
Her gaze threatened to kill me if I didn't hurry up.
More importantly, what on earth does she think I know?
Elisia is seriously misunderstanding something right now.
That's why she's acting with her guard slightly let down like this.
The only guess I have is that I pretended to know about Elisia's past, but...
I don't actually know the details, though?
Whether I was agonizing over how to handle this or not, Elisia didn't care in the slightest.
"It got tangled because of you, so take responsibility."
"Did I grab your hair or something?"
"You dragged me to that beggars' den against my will."
"It's a relief center."
"To me, they're both the same."
Her personality is truly consistent.
I let out a small sigh and raised the silver comb, intending to comb her hair.
However, the moment I properly gripped the comb, Elisia turned me to face sideways on the seat and naturally shifted her body to sit between my legs.
"...."
The movement was so natural that it actually left me at a loss for words.
What's with this behavior, like a trained puppy?
Sitting between my legs and leaning against me, Elisia docilely offered her head.
Her long, silvery-white hair completely covered the carriage seat with plenty to spare.
It was white and beautiful, as if spun from melted moonlight, but thinking that I had to comb all of it from now on made me feel at a loss.
When I lifted a handful of the silver-thread-like hair, a cool and smooth texture slipped through my fingers.
"Why are you just staying still? Aren't you going to do it?"
"I didn't expect you to obediently sit in front of someone's knees, Saint-nim."
"I didn't sit down because I wanted to. I did it because this finishes the fastest."
Instead of replying any further, I began combing.
As the brushing continued, Elisia's stiff shoulders gradually relaxed.
Every time the carriage shook, Elisia's hips softly brushed against my knees and thighs before pulling away.
I was secretly enjoying myself on the inside while combing her hair.
Then, when I pushed the silvery-white hair to one side to tidy it up, the high collar of her saintly vestments and the fair, slender nape of her neck exposed above it came into view.
And between the bottom of the collar and her hair, I saw something out of place.
"...."
I had no choice but to stop my hand holding the comb.
Across skin as immaculate as snow, slender scars were intertwined to form a Stigma.
These weren't simple marks left behind from injuries.
The regular pattern extending from the nape of her neck into the underside of her hair was definitely a Stigma.
And I only knew of a single case where such a thing was left on a human body.
The Stigma Imprint Ritual.
One of the means to strengthen divine power in Saint Maker, which was akin to a sort of doping procedure.
I knew it was extremely bad for the body and accompanied by horrific pain during the procedure.
Such a thing was engraved onto Elisia's body.
Thanks to noticing it, I could realize why Elisia grew her hair so long, and why she always changed her clothes alone.
Because she didn't want it to be seen.
"This is...."
It was the moment my fingers drew close to the scar.
Kwang!
Elisia whipped around and snatched my wrist.
The carriage wall shook violently.
The relaxed look from just moments ago had vanished without a trace from her face.
Her blue pupils gleamed sharply.
"Did you see it?"
"Saint-nim."
"Answer me."
Elisia twisted my wrist.
The sound of bones creaking rang out.
She lifted herself up just like that and shoved me against the seat.
Bending her slender waist, she ended up pinning me down from above.
Her voluminous silver hair enveloped the two of us like a curtain, and her soft body beneath the saintly vestments pressed firmly against my chest and thighs.
We were so close that our breaths brushed against each other.
In a way, it looked romantic, but the reality was the exact opposite.
Because right now, I was no different from being on the verge of death.
I only had one Authority left now.
If I escaped this situation right now, I would have to survive the rest of today solely on my physical abilities.
"How much did you see?"
"I saw a bit of the scar."
"A scar? You don't know what this is?"
"Isn't it a Stigma?"
"So you do know. Then what's with pretending to be surprised?"
Elisia spoke nonchalantly.
However, looking up close, her blue eyes contained something other than the usual anger.
It wasn't shame, either.
It was closer to the terror of a beast whose fatal weakness had been exposed.
Though she was trying hard to act composed, she was terrified by the fact that she had been found out by me.
"The Stigma ritual."
When I opened my mouth, Elisia's body froze.
"How old were you when you received it?"
"It has nothing to do with you. More importantly, did you really not know I had a Stigma?"
"Yes."
"I made a mistake. So I'll just have to kill you."
No, you're the one who jumped to conclusions.
I felt wronged, but without showing it, I stared back at Elisia in front of me before speaking.
"Since I somehow found out anyway, why don't you make more use of it?"
"Make use of what?"
"Isn't it a hassle to comb your hair and change your clothes? I'll do it for you."
"Do you think I'll spare your life over something like that?"
"Yes."
Elisia glared at me at my confident answer.
Honestly, I was certain I wouldn't die.
If she intended to kill me, she would have done so already.
What Elisia is doing right now is just like a hedgehog raising its quills.
Mistaking me for some kind of existence, all to protect herself.
As expected, instead of violence, a visibly chilly murderous intent bloomed.
"You probably already know everything, but I'll tell you. I received the first procedure when I was 7 years old. After that, at 10, and at 13. A total of three times."
They made her undergo the Stigma procedure three times at such a young age?
Are they out of their fucking minds?
I knew the Papacy was rotten to the core, but to this extent?
And she would have been a Saint candidate, too.
Who on earth could do such a horrific thing?
I didn't even need to think about it for long.
The Pope.
The being known as the Pope was the problem.
Because the one who poisoned me right before I cleared the game was also the Pope.
That bastard has something to do with Elisia.
I was certain of it, but since I was in front of Elisia, I didn't show it.
"Did it hurt?"
"It didn't hurt."
That was a lie.
Elisia's hand grasping my wrist was trembling.
At this point, it could definitely be considered trauma.
The fact that she looked ready to throw a fit whenever someone touched her hair was probably because of this.
"Do I look pitiful to you?"
"No."
"Don't lie."
"If I say you look pitiful, won't you kill me?"
"If you know that, then shut up."
"Though it does make me want to kill those Papacy bastards."
Especially the Pope.
That bastard was the problem.
No wonder clearing Elisia's route was impossible.
It was because the Pope, the very heart of the Papacy, was the problem.
While I concluded the Pope as the final target, Elisia's eyes widened slightly, perhaps finding my answer unexpected.
"Why are you getting angry?"
"Because they're the bastards who broke you, Saint-nim."
"Broke?"
"I mean that your foul temper isn't entirely your fault, Saint-nim."
"...."
"Though some of it is definitely inborn, of course."
Kwajik!
As I turned my head just in the nick of time, Elisia's fist smashed the seat.
I turned my head back to position and spoke.
"I stand corrected. It is entirely Saint-nim's fault."
"Drop dead."
Elisia pushed herself up from atop me and roughly adjusted her disheveled saintly vestments.
And she completely covered the nape of her neck with her hair.
"Don't look at it ever again."
"I'll be combing it for you from now on, so that will be impossible."
"Don't tell anyone either."
"Yes."
When I answered obediently, Elisia made an even more displeased face.
"Do it again."
"Do what?"
"The combing."
"Saint-nim told me never to look at it again, didn't you?"
"Just shut up and do it."
Just what kind of logic does this woman have?
How did I end up getting tangled with a crazy bitch like this?
Grumbling internally, I took hold of the comb again and began combing Elisia's hair.
Whether she liked my combing, Elisia relaxed her inwardly anxious expression to some degree.
She was probably doing that thinking I wouldn't be able to see it.
"Are you enjoying it?"
"What?"
"My combing, I mean."
"It's terrible."
"For something terrible, your expression is quite a sight to see."
Of course, I wasn't the type of person to just let something like that slide.
I had to gain the upper hand over Elisia even through trivial things like this.
There was also a part of me that simply wanted to tease her.
Since she was the main culprit behind all my suffering.
Kwajik!
"Oops. At this rate, there won't be anything left of the carriage."
"Then you can just take the hit instead."
"Then there won't be anything left of Saint-nim's aide, so I must refuse."
Why the hell would I let myself get hit?
If I really take a hit, it's over for me.
Looking at the carriage that had turned into a complete mess, I imagined the report I'd have to write tonight.
If I say we broke the carriage again, what kind of scolding will I hear this time?
Elisia is the one who broke it, so why do I have to get chewed out?
Ehyu.