Chapter 69
Saintess Hertia had virtually no interactions with men due to her special position. The Church revered her as something sacred, and most people frowned upon her associating with ordinary men. The leadership treated her like a prized commodity, pouring all their efforts into raising her to be pure and beautiful. Her enrollment at Amor Academy was an extraordinary exception. She'd begged relentlessly, tired of her caged-bird existence within the Church, and they only relented after she promised to minimize contact with men as much as possible.
In truth, the Church had eyes on all her relationships. They knew she was interested in Polo Helios, son of the heroic Helios Count, and that she was seeking love advice from Mars Noctus. But they chose not to interfere. Polo, with his idol-level looks and talent, seemed a fitting match for the saintess. As for Mars, they figured her status and discernment would keep her from taking him seriously.
Indeed, Hertia only had eyes for the stunningly handsome Polo. She avoided other men entirely and kept things strictly business with Mars. Up until then, she was convinced the feelings Polo stirred in her were love.
But then her maid Eris's betrayal exposed the Church's scandals. Hertia endured horrific torture, and the trauma from her tormentors made her start fearing men. With the Church officials who'd been at the academy recalled to handle the mess, she was left virtually alone. In that isolation, she finally had time to reflect on her emotions.
The feelings I had when I first met Polo Helios... were they really love?
Hertia had lived her whole life in nobility. Everyone around her insisted she needed a partner worthy of her, drilling into her head to find a man who matched her value. Surrounded by such advice, she'd come to see Polo—with his exceptional looks and a father bearing the title of world's strongest—as the perfect fit for her.
It wasn't the warm, fluttering emotion of love. It was just shopping for a gem that suited her image. Despite being exalted as a pure and solemn being, she realized she was no different: a superficial, selfish creature judging everything by appearances.
Honestly, when Mars came to rescue her, she'd trembled in subtle fear. What did he want from her? Would he abandon her once he realized she was a fallen saintess? Her mind raced with terrifying possibilities. But his answer was disarmingly simple.
"Why did you save me?"
"...Just. Just because."
Some might call it a lazy, insincere response. But Hertia couldn't. His face made it clear: it was the most natural thing in the world, even if he couldn't explain why he wanted to do it.
A saintess surrounded her whole life by sycophants leeching off her scraps—it hit her like a thunderbolt, that raw, transparent sincerity. After the rescue, he asked for no reward, just treated her the same as before. For some reason, she found herself paying him more attention than ever.
But she was human, after all. She'd long noticed the duke's daughter and princess eyeing Mars the same way. She didn't know the details, but from what she'd heard, they probably harbored the feelings she suspected.
But who am I to...?
Still, recalling how she'd lost faith once and been exiled—and their last conversation had been a fight—Hertia dismissed her emotions as mere admiration or gratitude. Clinging to him just because he'd saved her life once felt shameless.
But—
"Here, say ahh~"
What the hell is that woman...?
During volunteer circle activities in the village, Hertia felt a surge of disgust at the stranger glomming onto Mars. Part of it was the immorality—a married woman hitting on a younger man. But more than that, it ignited an inexplicable rage that someone with no connection could brazenly approach him when guilt had kept her at bay.
And that rage finally erupted like divine judgment in the form of a broken pot.
"If you become mine, you can do whatever you want to my body~"
Crack!
"You filthy harlot!!"
Call it heavenly punishment or whatever—it was just a tantrum born of insecurity.
* * *
"Whoa..."
I let out a short whistle of admiration at the sight of the saintess smashing Lillia's head with that flower pot. Cheeks flushed beet red, huffing and puffing, Hertia's shoulders heaved with unresolved fury, her breathing ragged.
"Um... Saintess?"
"Huff, huff... Nya?!"
"No, nothing."
Eek, scary. Her beast-like glare as she whipped around killed my plan to calm her down. Luckily, she snapped to at my call, hiding the bloodied staff behind her back and forcing a smile. But the staff was taller than her, and the red ornament stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Urgh... That crazy bitch!! She's lost it for real?!"
Lillia, reeling from the sudden blow, clutched her head and glared daggers at the saintess. She didn't seem combat-trained, but she had some trump card—already healed, she pondered how to take her down.
"What? Jealous 'cause she's eating him up? Want a bite too?"
"Wh-what?! Such insolence?!"
"Can't be helped. Have a bite, then borrow him. Take your men and scram nicely— Kyaaah!!"
"You really married? What kind of baron's wife is hornier than a streetwalker?"
Lillia barely dodged the frowning duchess's magic, her clothes a mess and hair disheveled, her former beauty gone. Behind her, the village men and servants who'd rushed over at the commotion showed odd symptoms, foaming like they'd been drugged.
"Heh heh, they say love makes you stronger than anyone? My charmed ones get a massive physical boost. Surrounded by lust-crazed beasts is pretty entertaining—"
"Excuse me, Saintess. Why'd you rush in first and attack? Your motives seem pretty suspicious."
"Th-that's...?"
"Strange... Didn't you say last time you had no interest? No reason for you to move if another woman goes after him."
"Well, um... I thought I might lose the one I owe a debt to...?"
Ignoring Lillia's bold declaration, the three women muttered among themselves. Sounded like they were scolding the saintess for striking first... but was there really cause to gang up like that?
"These bitches ignoring me?! Men!! Show 'em what you're made of!!"
Grrr!!
"““Get lost!!”””
...Grrr. Whimper...
"Wh-what? Why're you backing off?! Listen to me!!"
As the men prepared to charge per Lillia's order, I pondered non-lethal takedowns. But the women, annoyed at the interruption, barked at the mind-controlled villagers, who all flinched and slowly retreated.
Mind-controlled yet reacting like that to her command...
"Maybe they sense a threat to their lives?"
"Threat to life?"
"Yeah. No matter how lust-driven, self-preservation kicks in. They probably instinctively feel those three could kill them."
Our female squad's auras were no joke, especially since Lillia tried seducing me. Her shamelessness must've really pissed them off.
"Y-you useless fucks!! You're supposed to serve me!! Obey!!"
"...Better take her down first. She might pull some weird trick again."
"Yeah. Her married ass acting like that was already grating—perfect timing."
"Damn... that woman!"
The three advanced with icy glares. Panicking, Lillia yelled at us.
"Hey, you two men! Protect me now!!!"
Whoosh—
"Hm?"
"Huh?"
An intangible force brushed past us. But...
"Weird energy, but mental attacks don't work well on me... Wait, why're you fine?"
"Uh...? Beats me?"
Her power failed to elicit any response from us.
"Eh? N-no way...?"
And so, Polo and I watched for a solid 30 minutes as Lillia got relentlessly pummeled by the three women. I wanted to intervene, but their lifeless eyes told me to let them vent till they calmed.