The Instructor's Log [Ronin, Aria, and Nermaraud] (1)
Any animal would be the same, but humans are particularly adept at revealing their emotions through their faces. Expressing emotions without restraint—that might be both a universal trait and a strength of humanity. Wielding a rich spectrum of feelings in an organic, situation-appropriate manner becomes a weapon in itself. Emotions allow one to assert one's interests, sometimes elicit sympathy, and sometimes forge allies. Ah, what cunning social creatures we are.
I shook my head lightly. I needed to rein in the thoughts flowing from my consciousness. If they strayed too far, the lesson would veer off course. The reason I continued with these rambling reflections was simple enough. I looked at the person seated before me.
Black hair reaching her shoulders, a small, egg-shaped face. Eyebrows drawn as if with a gentle brushstroke, irises holding the fine luster of black crystal. A smooth nose without a single blemish, lips tinted the soft pink of cherry petals. The girl, whose overall appearance seemed youthful, exuded a heavy, melancholic atmosphere.
I had done nothing untoward to her, nor had I scolded her. I could swear it before the Goddess of Love. Why would I engage in such pointless acts? A heavy sigh escaped me.
“Is learning Holy Spells boring you, Saintess?”
That was right. I was teaching the Saintess the fundamentals of Holy Spells. When the proposal first came, I had assumed it was merely some dull joke. After all, she was the Saintess! The Saintess being unable to use Holy Power was as absurd as a hero unable to wield a sword or a Demon King being benevolent. Yet the Saintess truly could not use Holy Power, and though I maintained a calm exterior, inwardly I wanted to gape and deny reality. I barely swallowed the urge to ask whether she had obtained the title through some lottery. It was not something one said to her face.
Still, that was the reality. There was no clever solution. I was a priest who compromised well with reality. That was why I was now explaining Holy Spells to the Saintess with all the enthusiasm and sincerity I could muster—though even that was proving sluggish.
The girl elevated as the Saintess of the Sex Cult, Aria Lameld, wore a decadent smile like a flower on the verge of withering. Even to me, an externally invited priest, that smile seemed to carry some complicated story.
“…It is not that.”
Of course not. She had already shown sufficient enthusiasm in her efforts.
“Is it because my teaching is inadequate?”
The Saintess shook her head, her expression gloomy.
“No. Your explanations are very easy to understand, but I simply cannot handle Holy Power well.”
That was the issue. Aria Lameld possessed an innate abundance of Holy Power, yet she did not know how to wield it. That aspect was purely sensory, making it difficult to explain. How does one move their hands and feet? No matter how detailed the explanation, there were fundamental limits.
“I am sorry for being so incompetent.”
Hmm. Her condition was serious. That was not self-objectivity. It was simply self-loathing. I rubbed my temples, which had begun to ache faintly, and suggested, “Saintess, shall we take a short break?”
Aria showed a negative reaction.
“We cannot. I must learn what needs to be learned. I apologize for failing to concentrate. You must be troubled having to teach someone as foolish as me, Priest.”
It was not a superficial apology meant merely to smooth things over. Her words carried an unmistakable sincerity. Yet they did not feel like the words of someone genuinely eager to learn Holy Spells. If I had to describe it, it was the tone of a child who had been abused, speaking with a compulsion to reprimand herself.
Mm. At this rate, things would only worsen.
“Aria, Saintess.”
“Yes.”
At my call, the girl trembled and lowered her gaze. I had not even raised my voice. Looking at the cowering Saintess, I tried to soothe her as gently as possible.
“Rather than forcing Holy Spells into a mind that refuses to accept them, how about taking a light walk with me?”
When concentration failed, nothing worked. In such moments, changing the atmosphere was best. It was a method I often used when teaching children with poor focus.
“……Would that be all right?”
Fortunately, my intention seemed to reach her. The Saintess was on a similar level to a child with poor concentration. If I told anyone, they would accuse me of blasphemy and drag me away. Not that I had anyone to tell.
“There is no reason it would not be.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“Think nothing of it. I was feeling rather stifled myself.”
Aria rose from her seat. Then, for some reason, she looked at me with a gloomy gaze. I raised an eyebrow at that look.
“Why do you look at me so?”
“Your… your gaze was rather overt.”
The Saintess answered without meeting my eyes, as if embarrassed to say it. Only then did I realize where my gaze had been directed. I had been staring at her ample chest—her breasts, to speak plainly. It was an unmistakably rude way to look at someone.
“I apologize, Saintess.”
Any man would have reflexively looked. How could one ignore breasts that swayed so? It was a shabby excuse. This was all due to my lacking qualifications as a priest.
“Ah, no. There is no need to apologize.”
“Please keep this a secret from the others.”
If rumors spread that I harbored indecent thoughts toward the Saintess’s body, I would likely be socially buried. No, not “likely”—I would be buried.
She wore a strangely forlorn smile.
“……That is not a difficult request.”
Her words were sticky, like a dense shadow, but I ignored them. My principle was that it was better not to become entangled in the first place if entanglement would only make things worse. Besides, this generation’s Saintess seemed particularly sensitive to gazes. With a body like hers, it was understandable.
Contrary to her harmless, herbivore-like appearance, the Saintess possessed an outrageously sensual figure. Even beneath her holy robes, the curves of her large breasts were visible, along with her wide hips and slender waist free of excess flesh. Nine out of ten men passing by would turn their heads. If she were not the Saintess, crude pickup lines would probably have been thrown her way already. Was the Goddess these days selecting Saintesses based solely on appearance? I erased the irreverent thought and spoke.
“Shall we go, then?”
Instead of studying Holy Spells, I was taking a walk with the Saintess. It was a small deviation, but even someone who had lived bound by rules and standards deserved a moment to breathe. At least, that was what I thought.
* * *
Thinking that women might vaguely prefer flower gardens, I headed to the garden within the cult grounds. Unfortunately, Aria Lameld’s complexion remained unchanged and dark. Perhaps assuming she would like a flower garden had been my own foolish notion. Still, it was not entirely unpleasant to see her expression, previously frozen like a plaster statue, soften ever so slightly. It was because we had left the stifling interior for the relatively open outdoors. When had I started minding the Saintess’s mood? I had come to teach Holy Spells, not to cheer up a young girl.
For a moment, irritation rose, but her ethereal appearance washed away such negative thoughts completely. So this was what it meant to be the Saintess. Just looking at her face made faith well up. No, it was not just her face—other aspects also made faith surge…… I should stop there. The Saintess’s eyes were sharp. To hide my awkwardness, I spoke first.
“Do you feel a little better?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“You looked like a child who had died inside.”
“……I am not a child.”
The point was off. Moreover, coming from a girl who looked barely in her early twenties, it felt especially childish. Like any competent adult, I brushed off the girl’s sulking and continued.
“Do not be too disappointed. Everyone needs time.”
“Is that so.”
“Yes. You will be able to learn properly soon enough.”
I deliberately avoided saying “Holy Spells.” After all, on paper, I was merely a priest teaching “etiquette, including conduct and bearing.” The fact that the Saintess could not use Holy Power was not something to boast about, so my lessons with her were conducted in secret. Still, rather than going through all this effort, it would have been better to find a Saintess who could actually use Holy Power from the start.
“You do not have to push yourself. I know very well that I have no talent.”
Had she read my hidden expression? The Saintess showed her gloomy face again. The sight of her acting as though she were the most unfortunate person in the world irritated me slightly. Perhaps that was why my next words came out sharper than intended.
“Aria, Saintess, you do not know what it truly means to have no talent.”
“……Pardon?”
“At the very least, you possess an enormous amount of Holy Power, do you not?”
“Even so, it is Holy Power I cannot move.”
“That is still a hundred, a thousand times better than having not even a handful of Holy Power.”
“……”
“What I mean is that your starting line is different. If you put in even a little effort, Saintess, you will be able to use Holy Spells far more easily than those who struggle and strain for a hundred days. So please stop wearing that gloomy expression that says ‘I am so unhappy.’ The power you hold is something others have desperately longed for.”
By the time I finished, my tone had become something like “Stop whining and just try.” Damn it. This was why over-immersion was dangerous.
“Are you trying to encourage me?”
Aria Lameld widened her eyes like a squirrel, looking surprised. It was far more pleasant to look at than her previous gloomy expression. I twisted my lips into an awkward smile.
“Ah, well. I suppose so, but my lack of eloquence makes this rather embarrassing.”
She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. She looked like a carp or crucian carp gasping for air. Like a child trying to speak but unable to find the words.
“Is there something you wish to say?”
When I took the initiative, Aria bit her lower lip firmly. Huh, was she angry? As I hurried to apologize, the girl spoke as if vomiting the words out.
“………Thank you. For comforting me.”
“You are most welcome.”
“By the way, what did you say your name was again?”
Somehow, I had suspected she was only half-listening while I explained. It seemed she had even forgotten my name. I deliberately put on a disappointed expression.
“Did I not tell you before?”
“I… I am not very good at remembering names.”
“My name is Nermaraud. Please remember it this time.”
The Saintess nodded repeatedly. It seemed her gloomy mood had more or less lifted. Well then, time to return to the classroom.
* * *
After the lesson ended, a noticeably brighter Saintess left the room. I was about to gather my teaching materials—abbreviated as “教保材”—and follow when I was stopped.
“How is the Saintess’s attitude toward her lessons?”
A handsome man with a neatly parted hairstyle asked the question. Only after tapping the stack of books I had gathered against the desk to even them out did I reply.
“It is a mess. She cannot concentrate at all.”
“I see. Hmm.”
A brief silence followed. Then he spoke quietly.
“Is corporal punishment necessary?”
Corporal punishment. That was not a normal statement. I was beginning to understand why the Saintess trembled so much. I curved my eyes into a deliberately bright smile.
“Is that really necessary? She seems to have sufficient enthusiasm for learning, Priest Ronin.”
Priest Ronin. He gave a somewhat chilling smile.
“Did you not just say it was a mess?”
“There are various factors that could prevent the Saintess from concentrating on her lessons.”
“Factors such as?”
“For example, ‘abuse.’”
Crack. A faint fissure appeared on Priest Ronin’s expression. He quickly corrected his complexion, but it was already too late—I had seen it. He did not seem pleased by my words. As expected.
“Oh? An interesting hypothesis. Who would dare commit such rebellious acts toward the Saintess?”
Was he getting angry? I looked at the man before me with that smile still on my face.
“I was merely speculating on one possible factor.”
A man around my age. I met Ronin’s gaze. His eyes were sinister, as if harboring darkness. Men like this usually had something to hide. Just as my suspicions were deepening, he clapped his hands.
“Let us stop this talk. Would you care to have a meal together?”
I waved my hand in refusal.
“I am sorry, but I must decline. Preparing the curriculum for the Saintess’s education is unexpectedly time-consuming.”
Whether he had only asked out of courtesy, Priest Ronin did not press further.
“Is that so.”
“Yes. Then I shall take my leave……”
“It would be rude to detain a busy person, but the Saintess wishes it.”
More precisely, it only appeared as though he had no lingering attachment. ………Bringing up the student here? I glared at him, but he wore an irritating expression that said, “You started this.” A sigh escaped me. It would not do to worsen my relationship with the Saintess while teaching her. After gathering my belongings, I spoke.
“Please lead the way, Priest Ronin.”
“Understood.”
Of course, the place he took me was not the dining hall I knew. It was a “dining hall” of a different sort.