Chapter 31
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Contract
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Yuria demanded to be held the moment she entered the room.
"...Master."
"What is it?"
"You're thinking about the Saintess again."
...Now it was the Saintess after Rachel.
I let out a troubled laugh inwardly, but Yuria's grip tightened more and more.
I thought we'd finally gotten some breathing room, but here we go again.
That J-cup... well,
Ian knew full well how vulgarly alluring a saintess's body could seem to a man.
But her gaze was chilling enough to make one shrink away. To Yuria right now, though, that wasn't the point.
"I did a terrible thing to you, Ian."
"It wasn't that big a deal."
"If it were up to protocol, I'd deserve to be dragged to the basement and tortured for a full week—a grave crime."
...The opponent is the Saintess. This girl.
If I'd sent the Saintess of Justice from the Holy Kingdom for treatment only to kidnap and torture her for a week? That'd be a straight ticket to being branded a heretic and beheaded.
Well, if my own plan went wrong, I'd end up the same way.
"Still, I prefer Yuria, who I can handle like this on my own. Last time too, it was all... well, yeah. Not really a topic for here."
"...Even now, do you want to touch me?"
When Yuria asked, I nodded without a second's hesitation.
"Yeah."
"...Are mine more beautiful to look at? More alluring as a woman... right?"
Yuria repeated herself in a way that was unlike her.
Well, isn't that obvious, common sense-wise?
The breasts I'd been sucking and biting until last night were obviously better—gone were the days of settling for just looking.
And above all,
"Yuria, you're mine, and we're close. In a broader sense, you're like family to me. The Saintess is just some outsider. It's not easy to open my heart to her."
In the end, the reason Yuria was anxious was the Saintess.
At the very least, to avoid death, I needed Yuria by my side.
As I thought it over quietly, steam suddenly puffed up from the top of Yuria's head.
Her snow-white face flushed noticeably red.
It stood out even more because Yuria usually carried that cynical image.
"...Yuria?"
I called her name softly and touched her chin to turn her face toward me.
She wasn't supposed to be this fragile.
'...She's embarrassed? Yuria?'
As I held her chin and her lips curved up, Yuria's eyes widened in a flash.
Her face. It was close.
Too close.
Yuria's heart pounded like it was about to burst.
A strange emotion called love choked her breath, battering her relentlessly.
Thump thump thump thump.
'Quiet... quiet... please, that voice is too sweet... I can't hear anything...'
For some reason, Yuria, whose gaze had fixed on my lips, averted her eyes.
And she pounded her chest with her fists.
Watching it all, Ian's gaze turned dumbfounded.
'Dodging?'
Seeing my slightly shocked reaction, Yuria panicked as if she might cry, waving both hands frantically to deny it.
"M-Mas... Ian... what you said... um, that means..."
Even among all the Yurias I'd seen so far, this was one of the hardest times for her to get the words out.
"You really see me as family... and you'll keep cherishing me... stay by my side until the end... that's what it means, right..."
Then she bowed her head deeply.
"...You're too sly. If you suddenly say things like that, what am I supposed to... how should I react? Please, just a little... think about my heart's position."
"..."
Now I had to watch out for her heart while talking about this stuff?
...
It hadn't been long since she'd become the Saintess.
Her first title, born from humble citizen roots where she'd known hunger and cold, wasn't something grandiose like Saintess of Justice. It came from the name of a flower with bright connotations.
She couldn't quite recall the flower's name anymore.
But she remembered that the girl she was back then was different from now.
She'd reached for what she couldn't grasp, giving her absolute best.
The grateful masses praised her with near-religious fervor.
Yet the duties of a rising, influential saintess weren't as pure as a fairy tale.
Well... in the current village, she used her power to help until she couldn't anymore, but now they were starting to fear her instead, and she'd even been put on house arrest, so she couldn't intervene.
Saintesses were human too. She didn't show it, but her mental state was already worn thin in every way.
'...I'll never get to taste love anyway.'
She was a woman whose hands were stained from killing countless others.
Forcing herself to hold on now, branding the village tyrant just to survive—it was contradictory in itself.
If she'd sunk to seeing becoming Saintess as compensation, or developed that repulsive politician mindset of "After all I've done, this is how you treat me?", then it would be time to step down for real.
'And honestly, I can feel myself going mad bit by bit.'
Humiliating someone or making them uncomfortable wasn't her hobby.
Even if it was a criminal, there was no need to drag someone who'd come with good intentions to the training grounds just because their actions seemed rude.
-Ridiculous.
That had been the Saintess's reaction when Ian cleanly took down one of the more competent guards in a single exchange.
No.
At least if he'd just overwhelmed with mana or used some aura trick, it might've been different.
But an Aura Blade?
And he'd timed it perfectly for the moment the sword closed in, slicing the real blade with a mere wooden sword?
"...What kind of person is he, really."
His body didn't look like that of someone in peak training condition. But just once.
The atmosphere had changed, as if he were a different person entirely.
It overwhelmed the training grounds, chilling the air in an instant. That kind of vessel wasn't easily obtained.
If all that playboy image was just for show... and that was his true face...
'At least, he's no playboy.'
As she thought that,
-Knock knock.
A knock echoed.
"...Who is it, at this late hour?"
The door opened without waiting for a reply.
There stood Ian, today's visitor, bold as brass, along with that suspicious maid.
"Apologies for the late greeting. Allow me to introduce myself properly: Saintess of Justice, Isabella."
"...Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you. Young Master Britna Ian."
The Saintess smiled politely and nodded.
She could guess why he'd come at a time like this without much thought.
As she opened her mouth to say more,
-Glance.
The silver-haired, red-eyed maid's gaze sharpened.
Unlike the presence she'd sensed earlier that day,
It was even more ruthless than the killing machines she'd seen in the imperial court, making her all the more uneasy.
'So it's come.'
Clearly elite material for any assassination unit—her every movement and gait screamed it. At the very least, she was a direct subordinate of someone high up. Common sense said even an exclusive maid couldn't suppress dozens of guards barehanded, without mana, using pure martial skill alone.
Rather, the Saintess was more wary of Yuria now. The cold charisma unique to seasoned knights was palpable just from her standing there.
'I figured they'd show up by tonight.'
These two—no, Young Master Ian probably had some agenda in approaching her. Unlike her initial assumption of playboy whims like assault or worse, the fact that he wielded an Aura Blade... and more, that he'd kept it hidden even from his family, maintaining the playboy facade externally...
'He's almost certainly Britna's hidden ace. To think they'd raised a hunting dog like this.'
Well, regardless, the Saintess had half-given up on pushing Ian away.
It had been childish stubbornness from the start.
She'd just racked her brain for alternatives because she hated the idea of offering her body to a playboy.
The Saintess knew how much harm her attitude was causing those around her.
She'd considered giving up several times. No man would love a sinner like her anyway, and she didn't think herself attractive.
Though her body appealed to men, her emotionless tone and hardened gaze stiffened them up.
The contract with the demon? That didn't matter anymore.
The Holy Kingdom would handle it.
At least with three days' grace, once things with Ian wrapped up and it blew over, she could report it somehow.
So the Saintess's attitude toward Ian shifted.
"I apologize for today's rudeness. I ended up committing an offense against my benefactor. If you've come because you want the request done quickly... yes, very well. Shall we head to the bedroom?"
She suggested it casually with the word "bedroom."
Deep down, she wanted to curse him quickly out of duty and responsibility.
She revealed her heavy cleavage and rose slowly from her seat.
But the atmosphere from the silver-haired maid behind her felt off.
Her survival instincts screamed wildly.
Killing intent.
Dangerous.
Even facing a seasoned imperial knight's intent head-on hadn't felt like this.
If she said more, her head might fly off—but she had to finish her words.
"Men get excited by a woman's body first, they say. Yes, very well. I'll show you things I've never revealed to any man before..."
"Stop."
She'd deliberately used provocative language to rile him, but his response was emotionless.
"Sorry to interrupt..."
Yuria cut in.
What was she planning?
A woman who was just a maid on the surface, at best.
"...!"
The moment her shoulder was grabbed, intense pain flooded her mouth bitterly.
"...Mind your manners."
Killing intent.
Yuria had torn apart the massive aura cloaking the woman's body with overwhelming mana.
"...Wh-what are you doing? Let go ri—"
Her words cut off again.
Yuria irritably crushed the woman's hand halfway and forced her back into the chair.
"Yuria, it's too early for interrogation."
"Compared to demons, this was just a light touch."
Light... touch?
Tearing an aura that could sting even a knight's sword—with bare hands...?
If there'd been no aura, it was too horrific to imagine.
"Because you insulted Ian. With your filthy body."
"The Saintess isn't a demon yet."
"That's why I went easy."
"..."
Terror-stricken, the Saintess inched backward, preparing to call for knights.
They had to be insane.
But the view from the window below...
"..."
All knocked out.
The knights who should have been outside.
No sounds, even with the window open.
She'd subdued over twenty aura-wielding knights... just like that?
The approaching maid roughly grabbed her hair, forcing eye contact.
"I'll fix your hand now."
Sticky, filthy mana-like power enveloped her hand once.
Then, crunch.
"Guhhh..."
"I told you to go easy."
"This is easy. This woman's body is frailer than a lesser demon. I'll be more careful next time."
"..."
That was 100% intentional. Someone who could wield that much power could certainly control it like eating porridge.
She was just venting her dislike for the Saintess.
"Books say torture basics involve fixing someone to a wooden chair with thin blades and slowly slicing skin for maximum prolonged pain."
"Y-you... I'm the Saintess on commission from the Holy— Aaaagh?!"
"Be quiet. Interrupt Master one more time, and I'll cut off your legs."
She said it so casually, clearly no ordinary maid.
The Saintess, unaccustomed to pain, just trembled and shed tears.
"...."
But she didn't resist.
Meaning she'd accepted death to some degree.
Unlike expectations of her crumbling, she sat silently on the floor with dead eyes.
Ian, squatting to meet the Saintess's gaze, spoke.
"I know what contract you made with the demon."
"..."
"Can you still hear the demon's voice?"
"...I haven't heard the demon's voice in quite a while. And—"
Just like in the original story, denying it this way.
The next words were straight from the original descriptions, which I mostly knew.
"It taught you clever tricks, letting you win battle after battle, right?"
How do you know that.
"Naturally, a contract with a somewhat high-ranking demon would forbid even mentioning it."
"...Don't make up lies."
"Then how did an ex-orphan like you, with no battlefield experience, devise such perfect plans? Like a seasoned strategist, boasting a 100% win rate?"
"..."
These were borderline blasphemous words that could lead straight to a heresy trial.
But Ian's words didn't stop there.
"By any chance... do you want to die?"
For a split second, Isabella's eyes turned to "madman" mode.
But as the contract talk continued, her face hardened moment by moment.
“...”
People get shaken inside when their psyche is pierced repeatedly.
Right now too.
Unlike her morning complaints, the Saintess just fidgeted her lips silently.
"And it forbade you from showing it to anyone, telling anyone, or even achieving that dream yourself. The contract demands it."
Continued silence. Meaning my guess was spot on.
I was turning the ever-sensitive Saintess Isabella into a demon-worshipping cultist in the eyes of others.
The line had been crossed hard once we'd already harmed the Saintess.
Snapping her head up, she sensed something ominous.
"Even if discovered, the demon must have some scheme in place. That's why you tried to kill yourself. If you abandoned it all and went to the church or similar, something worse might happen—so you chose death for a safe contract termination, not cancellation."
The difference between termination and dissolution is timing.
Demon contract termination means forcibly severing the link from now on.
That allows countermeasures.
But dissolution via death treats it as never having existed, nullifying the demon's efforts entirely.
"...Uh, ah........ah."
She wanted to say something, but couldn't.
She slowly shook her head.
Normally, she'd be unable to respond.
So this denial meant something else...
Proving it, Yuria glanced out the window briefly before whipping her head back urgently.
"Master, your prediction was spot on. The monsters stationed around are advancing on the village. Roughly... 300 of them."
...Monster raid on day one? Isn't this insanely tough?
Of course, that wasn't the end.
Per the original story, the demon inside the Saintess hadn't even appeared yet.