Chapter 39
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Friend (1)
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Time flew by like an arrow. The Hespania Mountains, which had welcomed early spring, slowly shed their fully bloomed petals to usher in summer.
The Sun Church headquarters, perched midway up the towering mountains, generally maintained a consistently low temperature regardless of the seasons...
Yet under the goddess's protection, the inner city was crafted into an environment where one could fully savor the beauty of all four seasons.
Snow fell in winter, flowers bloomed in spring. Summer brought sweltering heat from the intense sunlight, and autumn prepared once more for winter.
Of them all, my favorite season was undoubtedly autumn. Not too hot, not too cold—the perfect time for activity.
"...I'm seriously gonna die."
Conversely, that also meant summer was the season I hated most.
The unnecessarily fierce sunlight beat down on the ground, and as if that weren't enough, it poured over me with enough intensity to melt me.
Even after switching to summer vestments, my entire body was drenched in sweat, feeling sticky and gross. At times like this, I desperately missed the casual clothes I was allowed to wear whenever dispatched down the mountain—they danced tantalizingly in my mind's eye.
What I really wanted was to hole up in my quarters all day, freeze the entire room solid, and just endure.
But that wasn't an option in my position as a Saint Candidate. The final Saint and Saintess selection was less than a year away now.
In other words, there were only two quarterly evaluation exams left.
And in just a few days, the third-quarter exam would take place.
'...Even with the final evaluation at the end.'
Either way, I needed to post meaningful scores in these remaining two quarterly exams to even compete for top ranks in the finale.
That line of thinking made me pause for a moment.
A strange emotion washed over me. Looking back, I'd never been all that interested in the Saint position to begin with...
I'd just planned to snag a decent top-tier score and secure a respectable position within the Sun Church.
That was the life blueprint I'd drawn up after being selected as a commoner Saint Candidate.
The Pope's seat? That'd be Adam Mayfield, that two-hundred-year-old geezer, hogging it for another century at least. My ultimate goal was Cardinal, tops.
If push came to shove, landing an Apostle title like Israfeel wouldn't be bad. My strengths were limited to physical combat anyway—what else did I have?
I'd figured living by periodically culling the demons spilling from the Demon King's mouth wouldn't be half bad.
That had been the plan, for sure.
"...Ugh."
My muddled emotions had me irritably ruffling my hair. With the heat already getting to me, it felt even easier to boil over.
Forcing my feet to move again, the face that naturally came to mind was a given.
Lete Heresia. Closer than a friend now, practically half-living together, but our relationship still too ambiguous to call lovers.
She was undoubtedly going to be selected as the 38th Saintess. Almost 100% certain.
While I'd been slumping, Lete had steadily held her ground. Mixing our divine affinities had elevated her even further—she was now the undisputed top Saintess Candidate.
I wasn't. Never having craved the Saint spot much, I'd long since dropped to mid-tier, and that ambiguity lingered.
Sure, sleeping with Lete and Israfeel had boosted my realm immensely, but my past slip-ups held me back.
"...Damn it."
Ironically, the one most likely to become Saint right now was Kazan Kashimir.
Since the Holy Stone test a few months back, he'd surged into the top three. Still, the score gap between us was stark.
Not an insurmountable lead, but closing it wouldn't be easy.
Especially since I lacked the drive or passion to become Saint.
So why did I feel so pissed? If I truly didn't care, who took the seat shouldn't matter.
It was precisely because the top Saint Candidate was that Kazan Kashimir that it grated on me. Made me downright nauseous.
Just imagining a future where that bastard stood side-by-side with Lete as Saint and Saintess churned my guts.
-Lady Heresia, I've admired you from afar for so long.
-Grant me the honor of visiting your bedchamber tonight.
That ridiculous courtship scene still replayed in my head at 8K UHD resolution.
What kind of lunatic shows up with flowers and propositions sharing a bed?
Even if it had been a pure confession of love, maybe...
"Hoo..."
Yet at the same time, I caught myself nodding, thinking in this world's lore, it could totally happen.
I'd adapted to this culture without realizing it. The realization drew a sigh from me.
'I've sunk into the swamp too.'
A sticky, viscous one—once your foot's in, no escaping.
No turning back now. I was a full-fledged resident of this world...
"...Huh."
That's when it happened. Amid my aimless wandering, a familiar shock of purple hair appeared before me—its owner frowning, though inwardly pleased.
Irritably lifting eyes likely filled with worry, there stood Eliya.
The very Eliya Ruben who'd brazenly altered her church-issued vestments to expose even more skin.
Our eyes met head-on. I gazed down at her indifferently; she flinched and quickly averted hers.
"R-Right, this isn't the way. Must've taken a wrong turn, yeah."
Muttering to herself unprompted, she pivoted like a glitchy robot, movements stiff and unnatural.
Just like the past few months, she scurried away. Her intent to avoid me was so obvious I didn't bother chasing.
Standing there for a dozen seconds or so, I watched her glance back from afar, her face twice as distressed, before turning and trotting right back.
Looking up at me impudently as she approached.
Soon, she grumbled poutily.
"What."
"What?"
"What the heck!"
"What about?"
"Why didn't you grab me? Why didn't you chase after me!"
She'd been dodging me every encounter, so I'd let her go this time—cue the meltdown.
What kind of ridiculous behavior was this? I let out an incredulous chuckle.
"You ran away, and now you're complaining? Am I obligated to chase and catch you every time?"
"...You've done it every time so far. Grabbing my nape, suffocating me!"
"Guess I wasn't in the mood today. Figured you hated it, so I let you be. Now you're bitching that I didn't chase? You slut."
"Y-You...! We agreed you wouldn't call me that!"
"Fine, last time today—promise."
I shrugged nonchalantly, and her face flushed beet red. Her tiny fists trembled; she clearly wanted to punch me.
"Go on, hit me."
"...!?"
Leaning in challengingly, she crumpled instantly.
The moment our breaths mingled, she stumbled back, face a mess.
"A-Ah. S-Stop, stop...!"
Finally, she raised the white flag. Crossing her arms to shield her face, begging mercy—it satisfied me greatly.
Her crimson face looked ready to steam from the top of her head.
Grinning smugly, I flicked her forehead with a solid knuckle-rap.
"Ack?!"
Of course, with real force—a red mark bloomed. She reeled, clutching her forehead in agony.
Seeing that pathetic sight after so long eased my earlier gloom a bit.
"O-Ow...!"
She glared daggers and yelled; I snapped my fingers and shot back.
"Hit you so it'd hurt."
"You promised not to hit me recklessly too...! How do you not keep any promises, Evan Lane, you bad, bad...!"
"Bad what?"
"...Hah!?"
She glared with fire in her eyes, but to me, it was just cute rebellion. Closing the distance made her snap her mouth shut with a gasp.
Unable to retreat further, Eliya froze stiff.
I eyed her meaningfully. Her outfit—exposing shoulders, cleavage, navel, hips—remained provocatively erotic.
Saintess vestments were revealing by design; hers took it further, earning a mental whistle, but damn if it wasn't effective.
Staring this close, even I felt stirred.
But no need to show it. I spoke in the most monotone voice possible.
"So, why've you been avoiding me like that?"
"W-Wh...?"
"Did I do something wrong?"
The question targeted her behavior toward me these past few months.
Clearly, she'd been deliberately distancing herself.
My treatment—nicknames, knuckle-raps—didn't seem to bother her. Her reactions were too mild for that.
If our eyes met by chance, she'd blush; if truly offended, she wouldn't approach like this.
'I have my guesses...'
But best hear it from her first.
So I waited patiently.
"...I-I wasn't avoiding you."
Eliya Ruben deployed the most obvious dodge. Eyes darting away, I tsked openly.
"Bullshit. The girl who used to cling begging for sex every other day now slinks off peeking nervously—you expect me to buy that?"
Still, she stuck to the lie. Fiddling with her hair, pretending otherwise, she continued.
"I-It’s true. I just... yeah, decided I wouldn't obsess over our little flings anymore?"
"...Huh?"
What nonsense was this? I raised a brow skeptically, and uncharacteristically, Eliya clasped her hands demurely.
"Um, ahem... That's how it is, Evan. You always hated my impure motives, called me a slut... Isn't this good for you?"
"..."
"S-So now you don't have to push me away anymore..."
"Hey, Eliya."
"Y-Yeah?"
Her voice shrinking to an ant's crawl, I cut her off mid-sentence.
Then... with a gesture loaded with hidden intent, I brushed back her purple bangs with a soft swish.
Her dazed face gradually flushed.
Leaning down, I whispered low in her ear.
"Wanna go a round in my room later?"
"...For real?!"
I dangled the bait, and innocently, she bit.
Our expressions contrasted sharply—hooker and hooked.
"...Ah."
"Heh."
My mocking smirk filled her with despair.
Embarrassment, shame, self-loathing. Topped with the humiliation of being seen through.
Thud.
She collapsed right there. Squatting beside her, I patted her shoulder gently.
"Come on, repeat after me. 'I'm beyond saving.'"
"...I'm beyond saving."
"'I'm a pervert who gets horny for my friend.'"
"I-I'm... a pervert who gets horny... for my friend..."
"Good girl."
At my amused murmur, she buried her face in her hands. I stroked her forehead half-comforting, half-teasing.
Intentional, of course. To evoke a certain memory.
I added slyly.
"How about another kiss?"
"Waaah...!"
Finally, Eliya burst into tears, and I felt great.
