Hero, What Is This?
Hero, what is this?
Everything had been going smoothly until now.
Thanks to the artifact, the nights were comfortable enough. The occasional beast that sniffed around and lingered became a welcome source of protein.
We could only take what we needed and leave the rest behind, but it was better than nothing.
In the process Ciela found herself remembering the comforts of modern civilization all over again, though she couldn’t deny how precious those comforts had been.
Aside from having to sleep on the open road, it was a reasonably pleasant journey.
The farther they traveled from the heartland where the Order held sway, the harsher things would become—but that still felt like a distant concern.
Before long the two of them reached their first destination.
The purpose of the pilgrimage itself was simple.
Seek out the traces left behind by the Goddess Termis in ages past, announce that the Saintess had come, and perform the rite.
It was no mere ceremonial greeting to some distant elder. It was a practical ritual meant to hold real threats at bay.
Leave a trace unattended for too long and the consequences varied by location, but none of them were pleasant.
There were records of the things once suppressed at a far-flung continental border bursting free when the rite was neglected, and the misery that followed.
In any case.
Whatever their ultimate goals might be, both of them needed the pilgrimage finished. After securing a room in a nearby village, they headed straight for the trace.
“That way.”
There was no fear of getting lost. The closer they drew, the more the Saintess seemed to sense it and guide the way.
The moment they reached the trace, the vacant air she had worn until now vanished as if it had never existed. With a solemn face she approached.
“O one who brought Order to the lands of Chaos, your servant stands here once more to restore Order to this earth.”
Ciela, keeping watch on the surroundings, found herself quietly impressed.
Looking at her again… she really does seem like a Saintess.
Honestly, everything the Saintess had shown so far had been a little… simple. Or pure, if one wanted to be kind. What else could you call it?
Watching that same person display something professional for once was startling.
At the same time it left a faintly bitter aftertaste.
…Hmm.
She looked as though she had been born for this and nothing else.
A being whose only value lay in the pilgrimage.
Whether that was true or not, Ciela couldn’t say—but it left a bad taste all the same.
Am I the strange one here? Or is this world the strange one?
Well. This world was what it was. What did it matter how Ciela felt about it?
She had been reborn into a new world; she would have to live by its rules.
Perhaps she and the Saintess were not so different after all. Ciela herself had been raised for little else.
“Hero, over here.”
“Ah—yes.”
If she wanted to live comfortably in this place, the pilgrimage had to be completed without incident.
There was a small, nagging guilt, but… surely they wouldn’t just wipe their mouths and kill her afterward, right?
While she thought that, the Saintess called her forward and began chanting a blessing over her sword.
Once a faint light wrapped the blade, Ciela followed the Saintess’s guidance and drove the sword into the heart of the trace.
The strange energy that had been seeping out of it slowly, like a tightly closed faucet, leaked a final dribble and then fell still.
When Ciela withdrew the sword, the Saintess looked satisfied.
“Well done, Hero.”
“You as well, Saintess.”
So she could make faces like that too.
With that fresh impression, Ciela mounted up and rode with the Saintess back toward their lodgings.
Up to this point it had been a truly peaceful pilgrimage—hardly surprising, given that this first stop was essentially the tutorial, the beginner hunting ground of the whole journey.
Until the Saintess suddenly began complaining of pain in her lower body.
…I’m going to lose my mind.
The Saintess was looking at me with her face twisted in distress.
Was she unable to speak because of the pain, or because nothing in her head prepared her for a situation like this?
Haa…
What did that even matter right now? The priority was figuring out how to deal with that.
I had watched for a while, but the thing under her skirts showed no sign of settling down.
Even if it got hard, shouldn’t it go soft again if nothing stimulated it?
I might have been without one of my own for a long time, but I still remembered that much.
Of course, I had never seen one sprout on a woman before, so it was still an unknown object as far as I was concerned.
First things first: confirm whether I’m even looking at what I think I’m looking at… right?
Honestly the location and the damp patch already made it obvious, but you never know.
Maybe it was some special organ that only grew on Saintesses?
I approached the suffering Saintess with extreme care and spoke in a low, casual voice, as if it were nothing important.
“Would it be all right if I checked what it is first?”
She nodded.
Eyes that seemed to trust me completely. The eyes of someone who believed a Hero could be trusted.
In contrast, her flushed cheeks and the lips that parted with rough breaths glistened with saliva.
It was a jarring sight.
I supposed I should be grateful her mind was still pure.
Confirm first.
But there was something I had to say before that.
“This is an unavoidable situation, so I have no choice but to check. You understand? Especially—you must never show this to anyone else.”
“Like… the flower tea?”
“Yes.”
Ah, good analogy.
As if it were no big deal, I carefully lifted the hem of her skirt.
The fabric that had only reached just above her ankles came away, and hot heat brushed my face.
A damp, faintly fishy smell was vivid.
Fortunately I didn’t gag. Foul odors were common enough in this world that I had grown used to them.
And the source of the smell was, of course, exactly what I had expected.
The Saintess’s plain underclothes were shoved aside by a heavy thing that had pushed free.
It still wore the pure look of something that had never finished a whale hunt.
…Though calling it pure felt wrong when it looked that weighty.
Especially with the clear fluid it was drooling from the tip.
I lowered the skirt again for the moment. Even if I had once been a man, I had never developed a hobby of peeking at other people’s private parts.
“Nn—nh…!”
The brush of fabric must have been stimulation enough; a pained sound slipped from the Saintess’s lips.
“…I’m sorry. At least… I know what it is now.”
“Hero, this… feels strange.”
Of course it did. Why would a male organ grow on a woman?
I had no idea.
Judging by memories of my previous life, maybe it would go away if she came once… but I couldn’t even be sure of that.
Still, we couldn’t leave it like this. We had only just finished the first pilgrimage site, and there was still a long road ahead.
Was this a bad thing, though? When I asked myself that, I wasn’t so sure.
Just as I was hiding the fact that I was a woman, the Saintess now had a secret she couldn’t tell anyone else.
She herself probably had no idea she shouldn’t talk about it… but I could teach her that much.
If we each knew one of the other’s secrets, it would become a relationship neither could easily betray.
Whose secret was more lethal I couldn’t say, but for now mine was still hidden while hers was out in the open.
Not that I planned to unilaterally exploit the pure girl. I simply wanted to steer things in a direction where we could draw a future together.
For someone who had nothing in her head but the pilgrimage, this wouldn’t be a bad thing either.
She would be happy about it later. I was sure of it.
“First, let’s try making it go away. There’s a club-like thing that grew inside, right? If you grab it and move your hand up and down, it should disappear.”
“O-okay.”
Her innocent answer stabbed my conscience. Still, what had to be done had to be done.
To the Saintess, who reached out without the slightest hesitation at the promise that it could be removed, I said:
“By the way, that is something that should only exist on men. Why do you think it appeared on you, Saintess? Did you always have it?”
“N-no… I didn’t… before. It just… suddenly grew.”
Thankfully this world was not one where women simply grew them as a matter of course.
“I see. In that case it would be best to hide it. If people learned something like this had appeared on the Saintess… it would cause problems for the pilgrimage.”
“That… wouldn’t be good. O-okay. I’ll… do as you say, Hero.”
It felt like I was tricking a child.
But it wasn’t a lie. Even a Saintess would have a hard time if this got out.
This was less about seizing her weakness and more about the obvious necessary measure.
If it had been any other Hero, something truly disastrous might have happened.
“Good. Then please try what I told you. I’ll step back a little; if anything goes wrong, just say so.”
“Okay…”
Even so, I had no desire to watch someone else masturbate, so I put a little distance between us.
I couldn’t leave the room entirely—there was no telling what sudden situation might arise.
Our Saintess might have a pure mind, but she was no fool. Soon she slipped her hand under her skirt exactly as I had instructed, and her body began to twitch and tremble.
I was optimistically thinking she would finish quickly and it would vanish when the Saintess called for me. I stepped closer at once.
“He-Hero.”
“Is there a problem?”
“You… have one of these too, right?”
“W-well… yes?”
No, I don’t. I used to, but not anymore.
“Then… show me… how you do it yourself. I… don’t really know. It hurts.”
“….”
A sudden request for a mutual handjob. Extremely flustering.
Given how pure her mind was, the words weren’t impossible for her to say—but at this rate I would never be able to claim that the Saintess of holiness and the saintess of sex were two different people.
The problem was that I didn’t have one.
Even if I did, the situation would still be enough to make me faint.
“That… would be difficult.”
“Why…?”
Because I don’t have one.
The Saintess looked thoroughly puzzled, as if asking why I couldn’t demonstrate when I supposedly had the same thing.
This was why sex education mattered.
What on earth had the nuns been teaching her—or rather, not teaching her?
In the end my options were limited. I had already brought up the pilgrimage; this had to be resolved right now.
Otherwise I had no idea what the pilgrimage-obsessed Saintess might do.
“I can’t show you with mine, but… I can teach you using yours instead, Saintess.”
“Okay…”
I supposed I should be grateful she was sexually ignorant.
I let out a quiet sigh and moved to her side.
I wiped my sweat-damp hands on the sheets and, with a sense of apology, said:
“I’m going to lift your skirt.”
“…Okay.”
When I drew the fabric aside, her male organ was fully exposed. It felt completely different from seeing it under the skirt.
The Saintess seemed to think so too.
“It looks… kind of gross.”
“….”
“You have one too… right, Hero?”
“That isn’t something you ask.”
“Okay.”
What kind of situation even was this?
Wanting to finish quickly, I shifted my gaze to the thing itself.
Thick veins pulsed along the sturdy shaft. The Saintess’s pure white hand was clumsily wrapped around it, and honestly… a sense of taboo washed over me.
If it hadn’t grown on her, this would simply be the image of an utterly pure Saintess laying her hand on a crude object.
My last fap material kept flashing through my mind unbidden.
I shook the afterimages out of my head and took hold of her from the opposite side of her grip.
Our hands lightly overlapped atop the veined pillar.
The writhing texture and searing heat against my palm were unmistakable.
The feeling was… bizarre. What the hell was I even doing?
Just teach her quickly and get out of the way.
“You hold it like this and move.”
With our hands stacked, I gripped the shaft and began to stroke—exactly the way I used to masturbate to that last piece of material.
The slick fluid that had dripped from the covered tip coated both her hand and mine.
At least we didn’t need lubricant, but the sensation was far from pleasant.
When we stroked upward together, the glans that had been revealed vanished under its hood again.
When we stroked downward, the head that had been hidden inside the foreskin popped free with a wet little sound.
“Nnh, haah… nnh…!”
Each time the swollen red glans appeared, the veins twitched and clear juice spurted out with a schlick, schlick, wetting the floor.
Had it always been like this? My memory was a little hazy.
…Who stares that carefully while jerking off, anyway?
I was only looking at this particular part because staring at the rest of the Saintess felt wrong, but still.
The sight of that thing standing tall between her pure white thighs was just as grotesque.
The damp smell that had filled the room grew thicker by the moment.
From the same mouth that had chanted a blessing earlier in the day, heated breaths kept spilling out. There was more pain than sweetness in them.
Yet in contrast, the tip of the glans kept leaking clear juice as if it felt good.
The viscous fluid soaked the shaft and both our hands.
It even wet the floor until I almost expected steam to rise.
…If I don’t clean this up properly, people are going to get the wrong idea.
My head ached.
I tried hard to think of other things, but there was a limit.
Anyway, I had taught her this much; she should be able to manage on her own now.
I was about to say so and pull my hand away when—
“Ugh, haah… H-Hero being… here… is… a relief…”
“….”
As she spoke, the Saintess timidly clutched the edge of my clothes, as if I were the only thing she could lean on.
Earlier today she had confidently recited the blessing and performed the rite with practiced skill. Now she was trembling in her small body against something unknown.
Seeing that, I found it hard to let go.
She had trusted me and entrusted her body to me, hadn’t she?
And yet I had been thinking about how to use her situation.
That thought was still valid.
As I said before, what had to be done had to be done.
A strange guilt pricked at my conscience.
In the palm I had been trying so hard to ignore, I felt a pulse as if a heart were beating—thump, thump.
Every time my slick hand moved up and down, heat intense enough to burn me traveled through.
Soon the shaft began to quiver and tremble as if preparing for something.
“He-Hero, s-something’s… going to come out…”
“…Just let it out as it is.”
“O-okay.”
Wait a second.
If she came right now, everything would end up all over the floor.
Cleaning that up would be a chore. I couldn’t afford any awkward misunderstandings; it would be exhausting.
…In that case, better to—
Catch it with something. But right now the only thing that could catch it was…
My own hand.
No choice.
It was truly awful, but thinking of the aftermath, this was the right call.
While we moved our hands together, I brought my free hand in front of the glans.
“Nnh, ahh, kuhng…!”
As if that had been the signal, the Saintess curled in on herself.
I gripped the shaft firmly together with her hand so nothing would spray elsewhere.
A bubbling, boiling vibration and then the veins began to writhe.
I felt something rising through the pillar, and then—
With a pew, pew sound, hot liquid spattered onto my palm in thick pulses.
“Ahah, kuh… nn… a-ahh…”
Accompanied by the Saintess’s dazed voice, pale fluid kept piling up on my hand without end.
Was there always this much…?
The force was strong enough that my hand would have been shoved back if I didn’t brace.
Even so, it should have been impossible.
Not long after, the climax stopped. The male organ that had stood stiff as a club quickly lost its strength and vanished as if it had never existed.
The heat and hardness that had filled my palm were gone.
Only the damp texture of the Saintess’s soft hand remained vivid. Unnecessarily soft, this person.
“Haah… haah… J-just like you said, Hero… it really disappeared. You’re amazing, Hero…”
“Th-that’s a relief.”
I answered and hurriedly stood up.
Now that the thing was gone, I couldn’t keep holding her skirt up.
There was also something I needed to get rid of.
“…I’ll go dispose of this. Fortunately we avoided making a mess of the surroundings.”
“Okay… thank you… Ah, Hero. Do you want some… flower tea?”
“I’ll deal with this first and come back.”
“Okay… I understand.”
Cupping the byproduct the Saintess had released in both hands, I moved away.
Looking at it, I suddenly recalled the way she used to pour flower tea into my hands.
…
Could this stuff have some effect similar to the flower tea…?
The thought flickered for a moment.
Then I immediately came to my senses.
Are you insane?
Even if it really did have that kind of effect, this was not it.
From now on, even if it grew again, the Saintess would handle it herself. I had taught her once; she was a smart student and would take care of it just fine…
But seriously, why did something like that suddenly grow in the first place?
I couldn’t make sense of it at all.
If I thought about what had been different from usual… the only thing was going to the trace and performing the rite…
Nah. No way. That can’t be it.
I shook my head and poured the Saintess’s discharge into a basin. There was nowhere convenient to dump it right away, so I had no choice.
It was thick and sticky as it fell—exaggerating only a little, it might as well have been glue.
I hadn’t eaten any of it, yet because of that brief thought earlier my throat felt oddly rough.
I might once have been the kind of guy who drank bathwater, but even I drew the line here. The flower tea the Saintess gave me was more than enough.
“Haa…”
I hadn’t expected a variable like this.
I could only hope nothing of the sort ever happened again.