Uninvited Guest (7)
Ten years ago, the remnants of the mercenaries a certain bishop had once hired went to ground deep in the forest.
It was a cleanup. The priest who had been that bishop's partner wanted every last scrap of evidence erased.
At first they had taken a come-and-get-us attitude—until half their number died in an instant at the hands of a single assassin. That was when they vanished into this place. Of course, they had been found out long ago. But a scrap of mercy had been offered: hide here for the rest of your lives, and those lives would be guaranteed.
Food and daily necessities were supplied, so survival itself was never a real problem.
Being cooped up in the forest was tedious, but they were grateful for the protection from that monster of an assassin.
And when boredom set in, they would stir up petty trouble in the village like mischievous goblins, or occasionally snatch someone who had wandered into the woods and use them as a plaything to pass the time.
Lately they had been amusing themselves by training a stupid village brat into a mercenary—but the kid was starting to get ideas above his station, and they figured it was about time to throw him away.
Just as they were thinking of discarding their current toy and finding a new one—
"You're lying."
A cleric in white vestments strode into the mercenary hideout as if she had lost all sense of fear.
"Everything you've said is a lie."
A single lamb walking into a den of wolves.
The moment he saw her, the blond man thought: A new plaything.
Those big breasts, that nicely flared pelvis—she looked like she would be fun to use. He licked his lips, already deciding to train her into a good little jack-off hole and use her until she died.
"Who the hell are you?"
Just as he was thinking of starting with that insolent bitch's upper hole and glaring her down, the words that left her mouth made him flinch.
"I am Ariel Violet, the seventh Saintess of the Empire."
Looking more carefully, he noticed several strange things.
Her vestments were white rather than the usual black.
Golden ripples radiated outward from the rosary around her neck.
"Ah! I remember now!"
The man who had brought Ariel to the hideout gaped, swallowing hard.
"I-I thought she looked familiar from somewhere..."
His face went deathly pale.
Just like the blond man, he had brought her here intending to feast on that lewd body. But her true identity was a Saintess—someone who, if they laid a hand on her, could turn not only the entire Holy See but the whole Empire into their enemy.
"Boss, I think we should just let her go."
However delicious the Saintess's body looked, any man who valued his life would send her away quietly once he thought it through.
"You idiot."
But the blond man thought differently.
"If she's a Saintess, that's even more reason not to send her back. Who do you think is responsible for us living like this?"
That damned priest of the Holy See.
Because of that bastard, they couldn't leave the forest and were stuck rotting through these tedious days.
"We'll take the Saintess hostage and blackmail that bastard. If he doesn't listen, I'll personally gouge out her eyes, cut off her arms and legs, wrap her up pretty, and ship her to the Holy See. And as a bonus, I'll expose everything that bastard ever did."
He had endured enough.
Even if that monster assassin came for his throat again, the hunger for revenge burned hot—he would land one solid blow on the man who had forced them into this hermit's life. He didn't care if he died. He was living like a corpse anyway. If he was going to die, he would go out with a bang.
"Besides, it'd be rude to just send back a bitch this fuckable who walked into a wolf's den of her own free will without doing a damn thing to her."
The other men, falling in with the blond man's thinking, began to edge closer.
Snickering laughter.
Lewd gazes fixed on her chest.
"Violence isn't nice, everyone. How about we talk first?"
It was unpleasant.
She had imagined being gang-raped by multiple men while reading erotic novels before—a hell of pleasure, the fantasy of being violated with semen pumped into every hole.
But now that she was actually surrounded by gazes thick with carnal lust, she was terrified.
Fantasy might have been sweet, but reality always betrayed it.
"Let's start by leaving some teeth marks on those big tits."
"I'll use that cunt until it's loose."
"A Saintess's holes should be sturdy, right? Last girl died just from me putting my fist up her ass."
Obscenities flew freely.
She had heard such words in erotic novels, but being the target of them herself made her skin crawl.
Thanks to the Prayer of Protection, a transparent barrier existed around her for a certain range—but she had no idea how long it would hold.
Morning was still far off.
No—even if morning came, she didn't know whether she could escape from here.
Was there any way out?
She knew dozens of holy magics, but among them there was no attack magic that worked on people.
The only things a Saintess could attack directly were demons who went against the will of God.
A Saintess's magic existed to benefit and care for people.
That's it! I'll offer a Prayer of Sleep!
Originally a holy magic for mental peace and rest, it could also be used to protect herself in a situation like this.
Ariel clasped her hands neatly together.
"O Lord of Light... Ah—"
But she ran out of time.
The mercenaries had already closed in right up to her nose.
"Stop!"
Ban pushed through the mercenaries and stood in front of Ariel with both arms spread wide.
Even if he despised clergy, surrounding one woman with a whole group wasn't right. And listening to what they were saying, he could tell just how terrible the things they planned to do to her were. He was learning swordsmanship and thief skills from them so he could grow stronger, sharpening the blade of his revenge so that someday he could crush them with his own hands—but right now was the time to stand against them.
"If you come any closer— Ghk!"
The blond man, who had been undoing his belt, drove a hard kick into Ban's gut—the kid who had been annoying him for a while.
"Stay down and shut up, you little brat."
Ban clutched his stomach and coughed up froth.
At this rate the Saintess would be thoroughly violated by those filthy bastards.
But there was nothing he could do.
He was weak. He had endured humiliation under these men because he wanted to protect the village, and yet he couldn't even protect a single woman—his own weakness shamed him.
Unable to look at the Saintess, Ban curled up and turned his head away.
"What do you think you're doing!"
Ariel raised her voice in anger.
"Kicking a child...!"
She checked on the fallen Ban.
She herself was the one in danger, yet she was worrying about him first.
"Is it wrong for the strong to hit the weak?"
A spark of fury ignited in the Saintess's instincts.
"Don't you know that the strong must protect the weak? Don't you know that power exists not to harm others, but to protect them?"
The blond man shrugged nonchalantly.
"Don't know."
"That's a shame."
Ariel looked the blond man straight in the eye.
"But I don't discriminate just because someone doesn't know. I'll guide you—so that everyone here can use their power correctly."
At her words, the mercenaries led by the blond man snickered and laughed.
"Saintess, isn't your head a little too full of flowers?"
"Pardon?"
The blond man grinned down at her.
"Fine, sure. I'll specially follow the Saintess's guidance—if you soothe me with your lower hole, that is."
The mercenaries burst into roaring laughter.
They chimed in with more obscenities—telling her to strip and spread her legs, or turn around and stick out her ass. Everyone was excited about having a fresh toy to play with after so long.
"No, wait—I've got a better idea. I'll teach the Saintess that it's only natural for the strong to hit the weak. Shall we start by hitting those big udders hard? Or should I spank that meaty ass of yours first until you beg for it?"
She had never met someone this impossible to reason with.
Maybe her head really was full of flowers.
Living at the Grand Cathedral until now, no matter how stubborn a person was, if she smiled and spoke warmly or tried to persuade them, they had always come around. But these mercenaries had already lost their minds—even the words of a Saintess couldn't turn their hearts.
"Come on. Hurry up and strip and stick out that ass."
The blond man approached Ariel.
"D-Don't come any closer."
She stepped backward.
The other mercenaries surrounding her opened a path, heightening the blond man's enjoyment of the hunt.
"Ah..."
A dead end.
Mercenaries in front, a wall behind.
From this point, no matter how quickly she prayed, interference would come faster.
Even if she prayed inside the barrier, a single hit to it would shatter her concentration and force her to start the prayer over from the beginning.
"O Lord of Light..."
Ariel closed her eyes and clasped her hands.
"Praying to God for help, are you?"
The blond man sneered.
"Give it up. This is a place people don't pass through, and nobody's coming all the way out here this late at night."
And then, at that very moment—
"Saintess, so this is where you were."
A priest in black vestments strolled leisurely into the hideout.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?"
Lowen calmly walked through the mercenaries and approached Ariel.
"L-Lowen—Bishop...!"
The moment she saw him, relief washed over her and the strength left her legs.
She didn't think gentle Lowen could escape against well-trained mercenaries—but just having him there gave her courage. If the two of them worked together, he could buy time while she put them to sleep with a Prayer of Sleep.
"Saintess, when we get back, I'm going to give you a sermon."
Lowen wrapped an arm around her waist as her legs gave out and she was about to fall.
"I-I'm sooorry......"
The moment he pulled her into his arms, Ariel's eyes fluttered shut and she fell asleep.
The instant he embraced her waist, he pressed a vital point and temporarily knocked her unconscious.
Because from now on, he had trash to clean up.
"I'm not a clean person myself, but..."
Lowen carefully laid Ariel on the floor and faced the mercenaries, who were staring in bewilderment at the sudden uninvited guest.
"Consider yourselves lucky."
Behind his glasses, the gentle, languid eyes sharpened like blue blades.
"If this were the old me, every last one of you would already be dead."
The moment the mercenaries saw Lowen's eyes filled with killing intent, a nightmare resurfaced.
"M-Monster..."
Lowen rolled up his sleeves.
"Instead, you'll spend the rest of your lives living like plants."