Hypnotizing the Saintess
“What brings you here…?”
Seriel’s question was perfectly reasonable. The Iden Priest had clearly said he couldn’t possibly stay in a dump like this and headed straight for a proper cathedral in the city center. Sure, he’d tagged along with her under the pretext of aiding the relief efforts in Old Town, but everyone knew his real job wasn’t helping the saintess heal people—it was watching her. That’s why Seriel didn’t care much for him. He went around saying that using divine power for free without compensation was a disgrace to the face of God, constantly nitpicking the saintess’s disaster relief efforts on behalf of certain cardinals. And yet, for all his fastidiousness about cleanliness, she’d figured he’d naturally bail on staying in some remote outpost like this… so this was genuinely unexpected.
Meeting Seriel’s questioning gaze, the man called Iden Priest slowly approached her with a serene expression and opened his mouth.
“It’s nothing, Saintess. Just…”
“…?”
At that moment, a suspicious glint crept into Iden Priest’s eyes… and Seriel, locking eyes with him, felt a slight dizziness and clutched her head, shaking it lightly.
“……”
Watching this, a flicker of surprise lit up in Iden Priest’s eyes.
‘She blocked it…?’
Han Jin-seong, disguised as Iden Priest, stared at her in astonishment. What he’d just tried was simple: using Lord of Pleasure to hypnotize her and briefly incapacitate her.
It had failed outright.
Even though it was a borrowed Unique-grade skill, its power was solidly at level 10, same as Lord of Pleasure. For her to resist it meant the saintess had some kind of Unique-grade or higher mental defense skill.
‘Tch, a saintess is still a saintess. This is getting a headache.’
Han Jin-seong had originally planned to hypnotize the saintess and savor her however he wanted, but now he sighed softly and watched as she slowly came back to her senses. Boring as it was, maybe he’d have to switch tactics and get a little rougher—
‘Huh?’
Then he noticed something unexpected and widened his eyes. The hypnosis hadn’t completely failed; a faint haze lingered in the saintess’s eyes.
This could work if I play it right…
“Oh dear, Saintess. Are you alright?”
Han Jin-seong approached with a concerned look, reaching out to support her.
But Seriel reflexively raised a hand to stop him.
“…I’m fine. Just a momentary dizziness.”
She spoke calmly, but clear wariness shone in her eyes. The saintess wasn’t stupid; she’d sensed something off about that strange sensation the moment their eyes met.
“……Understood, Saintess.”
Han Jin-seong smiled and took a step back.
“You must be quite exhausted. Makes sense, with your schedule lately. You went to aid the western landslide victims, and no sooner had you returned than you came straight here… right?”
His voice, subtly clear and resonant, flowed into her ears like a soft yet deeply penetrating echo. For a moment, Seriel found herself thinking, Yeah, that’s true…
“…Yes, you’re right.”
Come to think of it, she had been pushing her body too hard. Worn down by the cardinals’ endless interference, she’d thrown herself even more into relief work, and maybe all that built-up fatigue had exploded at once.
Before she knew it, her suspicions about Iden Priest had faded, and she was rationalizing that weird dizziness as mere exhaustion.
Seriel let out a long breath and lowered her head. When she looked up again, Iden Priest was gazing at her with deep, genuine concern.
‘…Have I been too narrow-minded in my view of him?’
A twinge of guilt crept in—maybe her prejudice that he was the cardinals’ lackey had made her see him in a bad light unfairly.
After a brief silence, Seriel’s gaze softened a bit. Her guard wasn’t fully down, but a corner of her heart felt a little warmer.
For better or worse, he was still a brother in faith, sharing the same god and doctrines—and someone who cared about her.
Not missing that shift, Han Jin-seong smiled gently and spoke.
“Saintess, I may not look it, but I’m pretty good with my hands. If it’s alright with you… would it be okay if I gave you a massage to ease some of that fatigue?”
“…A massage?”
Seriel blinked. She knew the word, but hearing it from him made it sound strangely unfamiliar. Massage… massage…? Kneading her body…? A man touching the saintess…?
Normally, no one would dare suggest such a thing. Everyone propped her up with reverence and awe, heads bowed low. And a man daring to lay hands on the saintess’s body…? If any church member saw, charging him with blasphemy wouldn’t be out of line.
“It’s purely to relieve your fatigue, Saintess. No ulterior motives whatsoever.”
“……”
Doubt and wariness flickered back in Seriel’s eyes for a moment, then vanished. She remembered how, over the past few days of relief work, he’d tended to the injured despite his reluctance—because it was the saintess’s order. He’d faithfully poured divine power into healing them. Unlike the old, shabby cardinals who griped about needing proper compensation before bestowing God’s grace, he at least did his assigned duties diligently.
“…Alright, Priest Iden. I won’t refuse your kindness. Would you mind?”
“Of course. Leave it to me!”
……
For some reason, Seriel felt even more tired than before as she followed him into the room. It was the modest space the previous priest had vacated—small but adequately furnished.
“Saintess, if you’d please lie down comfortably on this sofa.”
“Yes…?”
She widened her eyes at the unexpected instruction. She’d thought it’d just be a quick shoulder rub…
“It’s hard to give a proper massage while seated. Haha…”
At his apologetic words, Seriel quietly exhaled. She trusted that a priest wouldn’t act rashly, and the warmth of his concern from moments ago pushed aside her caution. Plus, with some of her prejudice toward him shed, his words didn’t provoke much resistance anymore.
Seriel approached the sofa to lie down.
“Ah, face the floor, please. Seems like a lot of tension’s built up in your back.”
Han Jin-seong fetched a pillow to make it comfortable for her to lie prone and placed it by her head. Seriel murmured a brief thanks, pulled it close, and settled in comfortably.
“Then, let’s begin, Saintess.”
“Yes…”
Seriel steadied her breath and closed her eyes. The thought of lying so defenselessly before a man brought a flush of embarrassment and shame, while anticipation of his touch made her body tense.
Smooth—
“…!”
The instant Han Jin-seong’s hand touched her back, Seriel sharply inhaled. Through the thin saintess robe, his body heat and firm pressure transmitted vividly. An inexplicable chill raced up her spine, spreading through her whole body.
Press—
As his fingers dug into her knotted shoulder muscles, she unwittingly swallowed a soft moan.
“Ah… hnnng…”
Seriel bit her lip hard, desperately holding back the strange sound threatening to escape.
This… felt better than she’d expected. Pinpointing the tight spots and pressing with his thumbs—it was refreshing yet ticklish.
“…!”
She buried her face in the pillow. Otherwise, those weird moans would leak out.
Press—
Press—
“Eut…!”
His touch was utterly serious, exuding professionalism as if he truly meant to relieve her fatigue. Precisely locating the knots, pressing firmly, then slowly circling to loosen them—it instilled trust in her.
Ah… he’s really doing this purely to help ease my fatigue with a massage…
That innocent intent in his hands only made her more embarrassed.
“You’re really knotted up, Saintess. Feel any better?”
“Hnn… Y-yes… it’s… so refreshing… eut…!”
Press—
Press—
Seriel was sinking into the massage, savoring the cool relief. But when his hands slid down to her waist, pausing right above the swell of her hips at the base of her spine—
Her body jolted sharply.
Just a little lower… that precarious line where her ass crack began. Every brush of his fingers there sparked strange sensations.
“P-Priest… that spot… hnnk…!”
Shocked by her own outburst, she bit her lip. She’d reacted too sensitively. Like she wanted him to touch there.
She hurried to make excuses. “…Sorry, Priest. That area’s… extra tense for some reason… I couldn’t help it…”
A blatant lie born from the weird feeling. But Han Jin-seong didn’t mind. Enhancing his succubus hands via Lord of Pleasure, he pressed even more boldly.
“This is one of the spots that knots up a lot. See… pressing like this feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Haahng…!”
Seriel clamped her mouth shut over the lewd moan that slipped out. Her face burned crimson.
Seeing this, Han Jin-seong chuckled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Saintess. It’s normal to make sounds during a massage. Perfectly natural.”
“R-Really…?”
“Yes. No need to hold back—in fact, letting go is proper etiquette toward the masseur.”
“Ah……”
Utter nonsense, but in her lightly hypnotized state, it all sounded plausible to Seriel. A flicker of doubt arose, but her trust in him quelled it.
Press—
Press—
“Eung… haaht…!”
She squirmed like it tickled, letting out coquettish voices. Not fully unrestrained as he’d said, but somewhat suppressed.
Even so, moaning in such a sultry tone was still deeply embarrassing.