2-2 Berthel, the Capital, and the Blasphemous Intruders (1)
"Lady Eve, do you have a moment?"
"—Lord Gorb."
Eve, who had answered the summons from the elders, swiftly left the conference room after finishing her business. Shortly after, as she prepared for her expedition, someone approached her.
It was a face she had seen in the conference room just moments ago—one of the elders.
"Thank you for accommodating our request this time. We know how grueling an expedition mission can be."
"...It's fine, Elder Gorb. If it's for the sake of the good citizens."
"Yes, of course. As expected of the 'Most Noble Knight.'"
Among the elders, he was on the younger side, but still teetering dangerously close to his fifties. And his grotesquely bloated, obese figure was particularly off-putting. It wasn't just the fat; the oily sheen dripping from his skin, the lecherous glances he occasionally shot her way—everything about him made her want to keep her distance.
He didn't look like a cleric no matter where you looked, but Heart had told me once that he'd bought his elder position with massive periodic donations.
"Anyway, if there's anything you need for this expedition, just say the word. I can even cover things the council won't support."
"Thank you."
"Heh heh, yes, of course. And about the dispatch area—I've got a villa there. The facilities are decent enough in my eyes, but the garden is especially lovely. It wouldn't suit just anyone, but if a knight of your refinement used it, that would be perfect. The staff are all still there, so you could stay comfortably even while out on the mission."
"......."
"I'll probably drop by for a few days once my business in the capital wraps up. Hmm, maybe we could throw a grand party then. To comfort you after the rigors of your mission."
As Elder Gorb's words dragged on, Eve's eyes grew progressively duller.
The mission they'd just assigned her had been framed as helping locals tormented by some bizarre monster manifestation. Talk of people losing their homes, becoming refugees, starving to death—and here he was prattling about parties in a villa with a beautiful garden.
Were there really no suffering refugees? Or did this man simply not care about them? Probably both.
"I understand what you're offering, but we'll decide on lodging based on the local situation. Besides, it wouldn't be wise to separate from the soldiers."
"Oh, well, if we could include the other holy knights too...!"
"Thank you for the offer, but I'll have to decline."
Eve's firm declaration left even Elder Gorb unable to press further. With a light nod and "I'll go pray now," she turned and departed. Gorb watched her retreating figure with a predatory lick of his lips.
Kuh... As expected, the Most Noble—and most beautiful—knight. The saintesses are lovely, but she's something else.
Too bad she turned down the invitation this time, but no matter. Someday, I'll make her my wife for sure.
He was utterly smitten with her—Eve. That face, as if sculpted by the goddess herself. The feminine curves of her breasts and hips, visible even through her thick armor. Beautiful, refined, womanly, and adored by the masses. He wanted her.
No—in Gorb's mind, it was already a done deal that Eve would become his bride. Her refusal now was just shyness. Or perhaps her dedication to the mission. As if anyone needed to take a job like this seriously.
She had no idea what deals had been struck behind the scenes.
The saintess Lemon and the rest—foolish women who only know how to pray. Makes them easy to handle, though. Heh heh.
...or so he probably thought.
Eve sighed, sensing Gorb's gaze on her back.
Vulgar humans. They don't even try to hide their filthy thoughts.
Arrogant, foolish old pigs. They were utterly repulsive. The sight of such men feigning piety, bestowing blessings on the people or flashing their shiny rosaries—it made her skin crawl.
How could the church harbor such vermin? Not everyone was like that, of course. There were faithful, diligent souls like Saintess Lemon. And at the very top, the Pope himself was a figure even Eve deeply admired—one of the main reasons she'd sworn to serve the Holy Light Kingdom Berea.
In any case, Eve prepared for her expedition as planned and set out soon after. She had no desire to work for greedy, vulgar pigs, but surely there were good, faithful people who would benefit from this.
...........
...........
......
Chatter, bustle—
"So this is the capital of the Holy Light Kingdom."
A few days after Eve's expedition was decided, they arrived in the capital of the Holy Light Kingdom Berea.
One in a hood, one in plain casual clothes with glasses, and one woman in maid attire. Gaon Moon, Heart, and the maid they'd brought along—Maid No. 2.
The religious city of Berthel, capital of Berea. Even the festival crowds in Stonevic from the previous loop seemed laughable compared to the throngs here. Gaon felt a bit overwhelmed.
The Holy Light Kingdom exceeded his expectations, and its capital was packed beyond imagination.
"First time in Berthel, right? Shall I show you around?"
"Yeah. The streets are prettier than I thought, so I'm tempted to take it slow and sightsee."
Gaon hadn't traveled much in his old life either. When family or friends talked about Europe trips, he'd always thought, Just a waste of money and time.
But seeing Berthel's streets, he could kind of understand now. The new faces, the artistic cityscape evoking strange scents—they stirred something special.
Still, we made it here without a hitch.
Too smooth. It's almost scary.
Crossing the border and immigration—he'd expected headaches. And Berea's procedures were strict. But Heart had handled it all with some mysterious tricks, breezing through every step.
IDs appeared out of nowhere, recommendation letters and permits materialized, and at some checkpoints, a few words from Heart granted free passage.
Heart was more capable than he'd imagined, with connections to match. No wonder she called herself an informant.
"Then, Gaon, where to first? Berthel's famous for the fountain square and the goddess statue. There are also dessert shops renowned across the continent. Hungry? We can eat first. I know this city inside out—anything you want."
"That's reassuring."
Whichever sounded fine, but Gaon reached out and groped Heart's ass over her clothes anyway.
Heart flinched but didn't resist. She just glanced nervously around, worried about prying eyes.
"Let's head to lodging first. You've got a base here too, right? We passed through several other cities on the way."
"Y-yes... That's right. I have a house, so... I'll guide you there first."
"Good."
Gaon released her ass, then trailed his fingers down her ear and whispered.
"Let's unwind a bit at your place. I'll be expecting great things."
His suggestive tone flushed Heart's face. She led Gaon and the maid there with a shy stutter.
The house they reached after a long walk was small and cute—perfectly suited to Heart.
"Noa! You're back!"
Meanwhile, at Berea Cathedral in Berthel. Saintess Lemon, hearing the news, dashed out the moment prayer meeting ended.
In the knights' training grounds stood Noa Florence, who had just arrived, along with the soldiers she'd taken.
"Saintess Lemon. Holy Knight Noa has safely returned from the mission you entrusted."
Noa greeted her with full knightly decorum. Lemon blessed the returning soldiers, then dragged Noa to a corner of the grounds by the arm.
Out of sight, Noa's expression relaxed.
"Sis Lemon, I'm home."
"Finally! You were supposed to be back in a month, but it stretched to three... And with all those terrifying ruin monsters too."
"Yeah. The nearby villagers were suffering, so as a holy knight of the goddess faith, I couldn't just ignore it."
"...What am I gonna do with you? As a saintess, I should praise your diligence, but as your sister, I can't say it was good. I was so worried."
They'd kept in periodic contact confirming her safety, but still—who knew when she might get hurt? Especially since it was her request that sent Noa out.
Noa chided her for worrying too much, but to Lemon, Noa was forever the compliant little sister figure. When Lemon had been called to the church as a saintess, she'd thought she'd never see Noa again. But years later, Noa showed up as a holy knight—it had been a shock.
For the lonely Lemon, with few she could open up to despite being a saintess, Noa was one of her precious few supports. She didn't want her hurt over something like this—or hated.
"But why are you guys out here? Long mission over—come inside the cathedral."
"We're all filthy and exhausted. Just wanted to report and let us head back quick. Oh, sis—got a favor to ask?"
"Of course. Anything I can do, I'll help."
Noa asked if the soldiers could get some leave. Six had returned with her; the rest were injured and would trickle back later. Even these six had no major wounds but were worn out from the long expedition, so a bit of rest time would be great.
Lemon agreed readily. Even with her limited influence among saintesses, granting leave to a handful of soldiers was well within her discretion.
Noa relayed this, and the female soldiers bowed to Lemon in thanks. She praised their hard work, apologized for having little to offer in return, and gave blessings, commendations, and small rewards.
Exhausted from a long mission, yet the soldiers all looked cheerful—especially thrilled by the saintess's blessing.
...?
But Saintess Lemon felt a faint, odd sensation. Something inexplicably alluring about the female soldiers' faces. Their gazes held not just simple admiration... but something a bit different.
Yet Lemon couldn't quite pinpoint it—the meaning hidden in those looks.