Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 2
Yeah, when you really thought about it, it had been a full ten years.
The time Asher had spent imagining Versia spanned nearly half his life, and that long-festering crush might have simply dressed her up beautifully in his fantasies.
But Asher felt a bit indignant about that.
I mean, he'd joined the church eight years ago to become a Holy Knight, and ever since then, he'd been hearing nonstop stories about Versia.
She was the most elegant and serene among the four Saintesses.
She'd never once missed a mission, staying true to her calling, and her divine power was said to be so exceptional that it seemed blessed by the gods themselves.
Above all, there were no bad rumors about her.
On the contrary, the only whispers were praises of her piety, like "The Saintess knelt for the lowly" or "The Saintess shed tears for the starving."
Asher had believed the woman he would serve embodied all the purity in the world.
So,
"Mm... Ah."
he never imagined she'd be the type to grope someone's crotch while flashing a sly grin.
His soul fled his body.
Suddenly, his friend Marvin's words came to mind.
-You idiot! No rumors means she's that thorough!
Maybe the guy was a visionary ahead of his time.
It was right then.
"Hello?"
Versia spoke up.
"You're shocked, right? Me too."
Asher felt a question rise to the tip of his tongue.
'Are you really shocked?'
By his common sense, someone truly shocked wouldn't grope so persistently.
But she'd said she was shocked, so what could he do?
The only thought in Asher's head at that moment was one.
'How long are you going to keep touching?'
Her hand was still on his crotch.
Watching the scene made him feel like his body was being violated by another, stirring a sense of shame.
In fact, Asher's face was flushing red.
Versia's snow-white skin made it stand out even more.
He couldn't bring himself to say anything to a Saintess (more than that, the situation didn't make sense), so he just opened and closed his mouth like a fish, his gaze trembling aimlessly before losing focus.
Now, Asher couldn't even look at Versia.
It didn't matter at all that it was supposedly his own body.
The shame was that intense.
Only then did Versia notice his reaction.
"Oopsie."
She slyly withdrew her hand from his crotch.
She rubbed her palm on her pant leg, smacked her lips for no reason, and muttered,
"Uh... Um."
"......"
"Sorry. It was just so fascinating."
"......?"
"Sorry for only touching mine. Knight, want to touch too?"
What?
In his bewilderment, he asked with his eyes, and Versia answered with hers.
She was staring at Asher's chest.
Thud! Asher jolted.
He instinctively wrapped his arms around his chest.
Betrayal made his teeth chatter.
A surge of rage, injustice, and violated memories mangled his thoughts.
It was right after that.
Versia smiled brightly and said,
"It's touchable enough."
Versia raised her hand, pretending to grab something.
The gesture's meaning was all too clear.
Snap
Something in his head snapped.
Asher felt the hairs on his body stand on end and screamed like he was in agony.
The corners of his eyes twitched upward.
"Saintess!!! You're so vulgar!!!"
The devout young Holy Knight Asher, who until the night before had dreamed of a knightly first greeting and a bright future ahead, witnessed the cruelty of reality that day.
Yes, he had to admit it.
"Huh? Suddenly?"
His idol, the Saintess Versia de Astarion he'd longed for in his dreams, was horrifically vulgar in her words and actions.
* * *
The first act of this sudden disaster wrapped up with the arrival of the Holy Knight Captain.
Asher realized something a bit too late.
Just as Versia had groped his crotch with his own body and acted bizarrely, he'd come to the Holy Knights' barracksswarming with men early in the morningin Versia's body.
And not just comehe'd run in barefoot, in pajamas.
It wasn't the kind of eccentricity forgiven even for a Saintess.
"What is this?"
Hic
Asher hiccuped.
Glancing around furtively, he saw Sir Whale, the Holy Knight Captain who always barked sternly.
His snow-white hair and fan-shaped mustache evoked a familiar terror.
-Get up! A knight only falls when he dies!!!
Why was that voice ringing in his ears?
His neat mustache felt like a guillotine.
His head spun as he desperately thought of excuses.
Surrounded on all sides, he racked his brain for a defense, but sadly, nothing came to mind.
Asher squeezed his eyes shut.
'Ah, acting so shortsightedly like this!'
He should've at least thought of that amid the chaos!
It was then.
Snap!
Versia dropped to her knees.
Following knightly etiquette, drawing the holy sign.
"Yes, receiving an oracle. Saintess."
Devoutly and reverently.
Out of nowhere, Asher felt a pang of defeat watching Versia out-knight him so coolly.
Of course, it was just a fleeting emotion, and after that...
"?"
Asher whipped his head around, firing a questioning glare.
But he had no time to voice it.
Thud!
The Holy Knight Captain glared wide-eyed and dropped to his knees.
Not just himeveryone nearby who'd been watching knelt too.
"In the name of the Parent God!"
Asher zoned out again at the booming cry echoing through the barracks.
* * *
Oracle.
It was advice and command from the Parent God, creator of this land, to His creations.
Historically, oracles had served as great milestones, correcting major continental threats or twists.
And the ones who could hear that voice were the Saintesses.
Daughters of the Parent God, chosen like Versia and the other three.
So, in short, Versia's quick thinking turned the entire Holy Church upside down that day.
"Receiving an oracle!"
At the declaration, Cardinals rushed over, bowing to Asher.
The church scholars hauled in stacks of parchment, recording every word.
Even Asher's interjections like "Uh... Um..."
Asher was going insane.
'So what was the oracle?'
The culprit, Versia, had vanished after thatnot showing her face.
Claiming she was the oracle's subject and needed purification, she'd been dragged off by priests.
Leaving Asher to clean up the mess alone.
The scholars' sparkling eyes were utterly burdensome.
"What oracle was it?"
Asher didn't know.
He couldn't just make something up.
Whatever form an oracle took, he had to know to speakbut he didn't know if it came as words, sentences, or images.
So he repeated "Um," "Uh," "So, like" in circles.
How long did that go on?
"It was the Oracle of the Guide."
"Sir Asher!"
Whoosh! The scholars jumped up.
Asher, like a man saved, brightened as he looked at... himself?
He flinched.
Straight posture, gentle smile, impeccably dressed holy armor, white sword.
The sight of his own body dressed up felt alien.
It was the epitome of an enviable Holy Knight.
Their eyes met.
Versia smiled reassuringly, then turned to the scholars and said,
"A mire lies in the path, so clear the promised black thicket and lead the shepherd. Blessings shall shine upon you."
The scholars sighed "Aah!!!" and scribbled it down.
Then they whispered excitedly among themselves: "What could the mire be?!", "The promised swordit's Sir Asher's oracle!", "Indeed! That's why the Saintess chose her words carefully!"
Asher had no idea what was going on, and amid that, Versia approached and said,
"Shall we go, Saintess? You must be tired from so early in the morning."
With suave escorting flair, she extended her hand.
Asher, drained, took it.
'Ahh, I'm saved...!'
Versia led Asher familiarly to her garden.
Along the way, she briefed him on various precautions.
"Stay expressionless. If someone greets you, just lift the corner of your mouth and nod. Keep your steps to a span and a half. Don't worry about the oracle anymorethe scholars won't bother you. They'll be too busy bickering among themselves."
Maybe the morning's scene was a hallucination from shock.
Versia's soft tone soothed Asher the moment it reached his ears, and her smile filled him with trust.
The Saintess of his dreams was right here.
Of course...! In his body, but still...!
"Y-Yes...!"
Asher felt relief.
Along with embarrassmenthe'd been nothing but a burden to Versia since his guard knight role began today.
Asher steeled himself.
'Get it together!'
Versia was handling it admirably, but she must be anxious deep down.
Of course! Waking up as someone else overnight!
Asher realized he needed to think and act not as baggage, but as a comrade to overcome this crisis together.
Calming his finally settling nerves, they arrived at the garden.
Her garden, blooming with white and blue flowers, had a single tea table.
Asher sat there.
Versia sat opposite.
Now they had to discuss.
As he composed his expression to speak
Thud
Asher's body stiffened.
A faint contempt rose on his face.
The reason was simple.
Versia had crossed her legs, uncrossed them, spread them wide, and now started fiddling with her crotch.
Asher said coldly,
"...Saintess, what are you doing?"
"Ah."
Versia looked up.
She smiled, troubled yet amused, and said,
"I wanted to cross my legs, but my dick's in the way."
Asher's eyes squeezed shut.
His face turned beet red.
"Men are inconvenient. Oh, and did you touch mine? Yeah, doesn't feel like much when it's yourself, right? That's what's fascinating about men. Even touching yourself..."
"Saintess! Please...!"
He felt dizzy.
His mind reeled in every way, and amid it, Asher realized one thing clearly.
-You idiot! No rumors means she's that thorough!
His friend Marvin was a wise man.
At least wiser than him.