The Cult (2)
Aria felt unwell. Part of it was the carriage’s terrible ride, with its constant jolting, but the main reason was the man sitting in the front seat—Bishop Ronin, the one who had crushed her spirit so thoroughly.
Aria met Ronin’s eyes as he read his book. It had been a while, yet his gaze remained just as chilling. He seemed even more sinister than before. She felt afraid. Of his stare. Of his expression. Of his every move.
She bit her lip. A faint metallic taste of blood spread across her tongue.
You’re good at enduring. Just hold on a little longer. It’s for Sir Ashtain’s sake.
Aria steadied her breathing. The carriage carried four people: Hero Ashtain, Saintess Aria, Bishop Ronin, and Nun Jina. They were heading toward the cult. The reason was simple—the Holy Sword.
Aria recalled what had happened. At the inn, Ronin had mentioned the “Holy Sword” and expressed his desire for Ashtain and Aria to visit the cult again.
“The Holy Sword? I don’t need it.”
Ashtain had no intention of traveling all the way to the cult just to obtain a sword. Bishop Ronin smiled awkwardly and asked, “Are you certain you won’t regret it?”
Regret? Ashtain thought it was a laughable threat.
“I’d rather hunt one more monster at the front lines than waste time like that.”
He had nothing to lose. He had managed perfectly well without the Holy Sword so far. But Aria thought differently.
“……Perhaps we should go, just in case.”
At her suggestion, Ashtain frowned. “Why?”
“The treatment a hero receives after being acknowledged by the Holy Sword is vastly different from one who hasn’t.”
The Holy Sword, said to have been granted directly by the gods. A hero who possessed it carried both justification and a righteous cause simply by existing. If Ashtain wanted to move freely without interference in a world where the Demon King roamed, the title “Hero chosen by the gods” was indispensable.
Think about it—who would dare raise their voice against a “Hero chosen by the gods”?
Ashtain waved his hand dismissively, clearly uninterested. “I don’t hunt monsters to get special treatment.”
“It’s not just about treatment. Simply possessing the Holy Sword gives weight to your words. It can also serve as proof of legitimacy. It will be a great help if you ever face difficulties in the future.”
Aria’s reasoning was sound. …Though it was sound, Ashtain shot Ronin a glare and whispered into Aria’s ear, “You don’t want to go to the cult, do you?”
She flinched. Looking up at him with trembling eyes, her gaze was filled with worry and concern. His consideration made her nose sting. Of course she had no desire to return to the cult. The Sex Cult was the very place that had created her trauma. Yet she was heading there because she wanted to be of help to Ashtain. She was willing to sacrifice the brief freedom she had finally obtained if it meant supporting him. The physical and mental pain she would endure along the way didn’t matter.
She had lost her purpose, her hope, and her will to live. Like a ship stranded on a reef, she had been drowning in an ocean of despair. She would simply live on, resigned and enduring, until the day her life ended. Ashtain was the one who had pulled her into the light. Over the past month, he had gently healed her wounded heart and cared for her with kindness. He was the one who had breathed new hope into her empty, hopeless shell. To her, he was light, salvation, and the “hero” from a fairy tale.
That was why she wanted to help him, even if only a little. She didn’t want to hold him back.
“It’s something we need to do.”
The Holy Sword was a symbolic item for the hero. Even if he claimed he didn’t need it, there would surely come a day when it proved useful. Ashtain stared at her with skeptical eyes. “Is it really that important?”
“Yes, it is.”
He saw the firm resolve in her eyes. When she was this stubborn, it was hard to change her mind. “……Since you’re being so insistent, I’ll listen. Well, we’ve almost finished hunting the monsters in the Asendio Mountain Range, so a bit of rest wouldn’t hurt.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me.”
And so, after nearly two months, the two of them set off for the Sex Cult once more.
Ashtain, who had been watching the scenery rush past the carriage window, turned to look at Aria. “Aria.”
“Yes, Hero-nim.”
She had called him “Hero-nim” instead of “Sir Ashtain,” drawing a clear line between them. Ashtain’s mood soured instantly. She was probably being cautious because Bishop Ronin was sitting right in front of them, reading his book.
“You look like you’re getting really motion sick. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
With cold sweat pouring down her face, how could she possibly be fine? When they had arrived at the Asendio mountain village, Aria had been so nauseous from the carriage ride that she had retched violently, looking like she was about to die. And now, barely two months later, she was supposedly enduring the motion sickness? That couldn’t be right. She was just putting on a calm front. Ashtain already felt the urge to call the whole thing off.
Ronin closed his book and regarded him. “You seem to worry about the Saintess quite a lot, Hero-nim.”
The muscle beside Ashtain’s eye twitched. This man was skilled at getting under his skin.
“She’s my comrade.”
“Your concern for your comrade is truly deep. Isn’t that right, Saintess?”
Aria answered reluctantly. “……Yes, the Hero is a very kind person.”
With that, silence fell over the carriage. It was a long silence. The carriage traveled along the road for quite some time. Only when the sun had set and the pitch-black sky had arrived did the carriage finally stop. They got out, ate a simple dinner, and went to sleep. It was an uncomfortable night.
Someone tapped her shoulder. The hand was so cold that she jolted awake with a start.
“Hah!”
She drew in a sharp breath. Opening her eyes, she saw the deep blue sky and the twinkling morning star. Dawn was still far off.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“……Bishop Ronin.”
“It’s time for you to wake up.”
Time to wake up. Yes, it was her turn for the last watch. After folding her blanket and standing up, Bishop Ronin confirmed she was awake and walked toward the campfire. Aria followed him. Her mind, still foggy from sleep, slowly cleared like the tide coming in.
“You didn’t sleep well, did you? Aren’t you cold?”
“………I’m fine.”
“I see.”
Crackle, crackle. For a while, only the sound of the campfire and the chirping of insects filled the air. Bishop Ronin added a dry branch to the flames.
“You’ve regained a lot of your vitality.”
“……Have I?”
“Yes. You look much better now than when you were cowering at the cult.”
She didn’t know what to say to his friendly words. He continued speaking.
“Are you satisfied with your life alongside the Hero?”
It’s good. I’m satisfied. I’m happy. She didn’t show those emotions. If it was this man, he would surely be pleased by them.
“……It’s not bad.”
“Then my efforts were worthwhile.”
“……What do you mean?”
“You may not know this, but it was I who suggested that the Hero take you with him. I strongly argued to His Eminence the Cardinal that the Saintess also needed to engage in external activities. Heh, it’s still vivid in my mind. Cardinal Mavlof looked at me with such distaste. He said I was doing something unnecessary. Little did I expect that the Hero would end up ‘kidnapping’ the Saintess, though.”
Aria fell silent at his words. She had never imagined that her meeting with Sir Ashtain had been part of this man’s scheme. Suddenly, Bishop Ronin’s brown eyes gleamed menacingly.
“Life at the cult must have been stifling for you.”
“…………”
“That’s why I thought a change of scenery was necessary. Did my intentions displease you?”
“……No.”
“I’m glad. Dawn will break soon, so I should get some sleep as well.”
“Please do.”
“……Ah, before that, may I ask one last thing?”
A hollow, chilly dawn breeze blew. Bishop Ronin’s eyes, fixed on her, were just as empty and cold as the wind. Aria forced her reluctant lips open.
“Yes, please ask.”
Bishop Ronin spoke while looking at Ashtain, who was deep in slumber. “In your eyes, is he an ideal hero?”
It was a question about Sir Ashtain. Without a moment’s hesitation, Aria answered, “……Yes. He’s more suited to being a hero than anyone else.”
Ronin clicked his tongue and sighed. “How unfortunate.”
“What is?”
“You are not an ideal saintess, are you?”
You are not an ideal saintess. The words pierced her heart like a sharp blade.
“……Bishop.”
Her heart pounded. In a negative way.
“How could a wanton woman who only seeks pleasure beneath men be called an ideal saintess?”
Her stomach churned at his condemnation. Her hands began to tremble.
“Your words…… are excessive.”
“Well, isn’t it the truth?”
She couldn’t refute him. Because it was true.
“You seem to be hiding it well from the Hero?”
“……….”
“You must be frustrated, aren’t you?”
His fingers slid down her waist and began rubbing the cleft of her buttocks. Feeling as though insects were crawling over her body, Aria swatted his hand away.
“Don’t touch me.”
Ronin’s lips curved into a twisted smile, as if her reaction delighted him greatly. “Ah, what a wonderful response. You’re quite valuable. But you know,”
If you don’t stay quiet, the Hero will wake up. At Ronin’s words, Aria gritted her teeth.
“If he wakes up, it’ll be troublesome for both of us, won’t it?”
His hand groped her thigh. This time, she couldn’t bring herself to slap it away as she had before.
“Do you dislike having your body toyed with? Back at the cult, you seemed to accept it with resignation.”
His words were like a cactus—sharp and unbearably painful.
“Don’t do this.”
“Now that I think about it, you seemed quite close to the Hero. Have you perhaps mixed bodies with him?”
Have you perhaps mixed bodies with him? At those words, Aria slapped his cheek. Smack. Ronin’s head turned, but he didn’t utter a single groan, merely touching his cheek dryly.
“……How could someone who holds the title of bishop say such things?”
“Hmm, judging by your reaction, it seems you haven’t yet. In that case, how about offering yourself to me now? It shouldn’t be difficult for the Saintess, after all.”
You’re a cheap woman. That was what he was implying. Strength gathered in her fists. It felt as though her feelings for Sir Ashtain were being thrown to the ground and trampled underfoot. It felt as though she was being told she didn’t even deserve to love him. She couldn’t endure it any longer.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Heh, is there any need to react so sensitively?”
“Shut that mouth of yours……”
“What do you think the Hero would say if he knew?”
“……What?”
“Ah, it was just a passing thought.”
A terrible imagination flashed through her mind. What if Bishop Ronin told Sir Ashtain every detail of the truth she had been hiding? What if, after learning everything, he looked down on her for debasing herself? There was no more horrifying possibility.
Aria finally understood why Bishop Ronin had told her to hold onto hope. It was so he could watch her suffer.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing yet.”
Bishop Ronin smiled. “Not yet, that is.”