The Saintess on Display (2)
“Haa…”
Perched on a rugged mountain ridge, Dain gazed down at the sprawling landscape below. He took a sip of water and exhaled heavily. Even while carrying out Gardan’s request to survey the surrounding terrain, he couldn’t stop Ceres’s face from haunting his thoughts.
I have to clear up the misunderstanding.
She had endured it well. Nothing had happened. He felt a sting of injustice, but Ceres’s tears had rendered all of that meaningless. All Dain wanted was to return as quickly as possible, explain everything, and dissolve the wall that had risen between them.
“Sigh…”
He stood, brushed the dirt from his pants, and steeled himself once more before setting off again.
By the time he returned to the outpost and finished reporting the local geography to Gardan, it was already late at night.
“Thank you for your hard work. Since we’re on the border with the demons, we needed detailed information.”
“For now, I didn’t see anything that seemed like an immediate threat. However…”
“Yes, I was planning to organize a team to venture inside the boundary soon. May I ask for your help again then?”
“Of course. Just say the word anytime.”
Gardan, clearly exhausted from managing the outpost, still offered a tired smile as he saw Dain off.
The lodging was quiet. Dain hadn’t seen Zarco once since arriving at the base. Being the Hero, he was probably swamped beyond belief. The only sound was the creak of the stairs; there wasn’t a single trace of life in the building.
Standing in front of Ceres’s door, Dain took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock—then stopped.
It was a misunderstanding. Nothing had happened. Lilias had stripped her as a so-called reward, but he had sent her back untouched. He was still… waiting for her.
He rehearsed the words in his head, but the courage to speak them refused to come. His fist clenched, his hand hovering near the door, only to fall limply to his side with another sigh.
It was late. Ceres might already be asleep. Tomorrow morning, then. The moment he woke up, he would open this door and clear everything up.
Biting his lip, Dain quietly slipped into his own room.
“E-excuse me.”
When the tailor entered the empty command room at the Hero’s summons, he found it was not only Zarco waiting for him. The gazes of the Saintess, two men, and one woman pinned him in place. The tailor swallowed nervously.
“Ah, you’re here.”
“Y-yes. What can I do for you…?”
“We need to fit the Saintess for a new outfit. You’ll have to take Ceres’s measurements, won’t you?”
At the Hero’s words, the Saintess’s eyes widened.
“What are you talking about, Zarco?”
“I can’t keep tearing your clothes off every time, Ceres.”
The look in Zarco’s eyes as he stared at the Saintess was utterly cold—nothing like the gaze that had confessed love to her the night before.
“Have you already forgotten?”
Zarco made a crude grabbing motion in the air. Even the tailor, who knew nothing of the context, immediately understood what it implied.
“I-if you had at least said something…”
“Why ask again when you already know it’s going to happen? Saintess?”
Zarco grabbed Ceres by the waist, pulled her onto his lap, and began openly kneading her ample breasts as if no one else were in the room.
It was a surreal scene. To the tailor, the Hero looked like a villain. The Saintess’s face burned crimson with shame, yet she couldn’t bring herself to shove those hands away. The soldiers watched her with their crotches already straining against their pants.
And the tailor himself could not tear his eyes from those soft breasts that even the Hero’s long fingers couldn’t fully contain.
“Tailor.”
“Y-yes!”
“How do you usually take measurements?”
“U-usually… in underwear, sir. Yes…”
“Is that so?”
Zarco immediately used the same hand that had been groping her to begin unbuttoning the Saintess’s robes.
“Z-Zarco. Wait!”
“I told you.”
Zarco didn’t even look at her as he spoke.
“It’s going to happen anyway.”
Ceres could perfectly imagine the filthy smirk that must have been on his face.
With ruthless efficiency, he stripped away her top. Everyone in the command room stared at the Saintess now standing in nothing but her undergarments. One middle-aged soldier let out a low whistle.
“Those tits… fuck…”
Though she tried to cover her breasts with her arms, the massive mounds only bulged outward even more, squeezed between her forearms. Her lovely face still carried traces of innocence. The sight of the Saintess biting her lip in humiliation made every man in the room swallow hard.
“We’ll need her lower measurements too.”
At Zarco’s words, Ceres’s hands slowly dropped from her chest. She gripped the waistband of her bottoms and bent forward. Her heavy breasts, pulled down by gravity, strained against her bra.
As expected, the bottoms caught on her wide hips. Ceres had to wiggle her waist and ass to peel them off. Whether because of the situation or the sheer beauty of the Saintess’s body, even that ordinary movement made the tailor’s desires stir. Before he knew it, his gaze was locked on her breasts swaying like pendulums before his eyes.
The Saintess’s voluptuous figure was fully revealed. Soft flesh spilled out from the edges of her barely-there underwear. The sight—sacred yet dripping with carnal lust—was enough to erase any remaining reason in the tailor’s mind.
“Then let’s begin, tailor.”
“Y-yeees…”
Like a man in a trance, the tailor rose and pulled out his measuring tape.
“C-could you… spread your arms, Saintess…?”
When Ceres frowned and slowly raised her arms, her pink armpits were already glistening with sweat. Fighting back a sudden wave of thirst, the tailor began measuring her breasts.
The moment the tailor’s excited breath brushed against her back, Ceres’s shoulders twitched upward. That trembling only fueled the tailor’s lust further.
“H-Hero, sir.”
“Hm?”
“Since the clothes are custom… to get accurate measurements, I believe she’ll need to remove her underwear as well.”
“W-what?”
Ceres whipped her head around in shock. Zarco was smiling with clear amusement. The tailor deliberately avoided her eyes. In the corner, Rillen was already locked in a kiss with a young soldier, her hand stroking his cock.
“U-uuu…”
Her naked body was about to be seen by yet another man. Trembling with shame, Ceres felt the tailor step behind her.
“Then… once more.”
The tailor’s arms wrapped around her again. She tried to ignore the sensation of his fingers grazing her armpits, but when she saw the back of his hand glistening with her own sweat, the humiliation made her hang her head.
“Y-yes. Next is the waist…”
The tailor slowly knelt. When the tape touched her side—the part Ceres found even more embarrassing than her breasts—she finally let out the breath she had been holding.
“There’s a bit of… softness around the sides.”
Whether he was genuinely assessing the fit or simply playing a cruel game, the excited tailor watched Ceres’s reaction with a tense expression.
“The tape needs to sit properly… so take a deep breath…”
“Mmph…!”
The tailor’s hand pressed lightly against her stomach. He deliberately ran his fingers along the gap between her panties and belly before pulling away, the corner of his mouth curled upward.
“Now then… the thighs.”
The man didn’t even ask her to spread her legs. He simply forced his hand between Ceres’s closed thighs. The cool sensation of his fist—slick with her own sweat—sliding beneath her panties made an involuntary sound escape her lips.
“Hngh…!”
“S-sorry. I was taking measurements…”
But the tailor’s hand didn’t wait for her answer. It moved again.
Whether by accident or design, the back of his hand, now nestled between her thighs, slowly pressed against her mound over the fabric of her panties.
“Y-your hand…”
“…Yes?”
The firm tone made it clear that if she didn’t point it out directly, he would pretend not to notice. Ceres turned her head away in silence, praying only for this humiliating measuring session to end.
“…Ceres? Are you there?”
It was a little late in the morning when Dain knocked on Ceres’s door, but there was no answer. He regretted sleeping in after his solo reconnaissance the day before.
Did she leave already…? I should look for her outside.
He descended the stairs and stepped out of the building. The sky was clear and cloudless. Strangely, the passing soldiers all wore oddly bright expressions.
Maybe she’s at breakfast?
As Dain headed toward the mess hall, fragments of the soldiers’ conversation pierced his ears.
“Insane. That new outfit…”
“Why would she change into something like that?”
“Who knows? Maybe she enjoys the attention?”
“Man, the way I look at the Saintess has completely changed.”
The Saintess? Seeing the soldiers grinning like fools, Dain’s steps toward the mess hall quickened. They were all talking about the same thing—the Saintess, Ceres, and her voluptuous body. The once-disciplined soldiers were now appraising her like horny young men in a brothel.
Anxiety gripped him. He practically ran through the leering soldiers and arrived at the mess hall just as Ceres was stepping out.
“Ah…”
His eyes were instantly drawn to her changed attire. The top had a deep opening that exposed the deep valley between her pressed-together breasts. The sides revealed the soft swell of her breasts that couldn’t be contained by the fabric. The bottoms were slit high up the sides, revealing the smooth, supple skin of her hips and waist.
His face twisted. He couldn’t control his expression. Their eyes met—hers flushed with humiliation—but she lowered her head like a criminal and hurried toward the lodging. Even from behind, she held the gaze of every soldier, including Dain.
Beneath the short skirt, her ass swayed with every step, jiggling up and down and capturing the eyes of every man present. The white underwear nestled between those cheeks was visible enough to show the plump shape of her mound.
“That ass… wow…”
“Just once. I’d give anything to touch that soft ass…”
“Her body’s insane. Is that why she’s the Saintess?”
“The bathrooms are gonna be packed tonight.”
Dain’s hand tightened around his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to cut down these monsters consumed by lust. But before that, one face rose in his mind.
Zarco.
It was obvious whose doing this was. Dain immediately strode toward Gardan’s tent where Zarco would be. He hadn’t said a word, yet the soldiers who had been staring dazedly at Ceres’s retreating figure flinched and stumbled back in fear.