Chapter 50
Chapter 50
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 50
Asher said,
"I-is this really okay...?"
Versia replied,
"What are you on about now? Since we're already at it, let's do the Pirate Empress too."
"...It's not that simple! And I'm not a woman! So calling me Empress doesn't make sense!"
"Yet you say that, but you look like a woman no matter how I see it..."
"This is your body, Saintess!"
Versia shrugged.
Lately, he'd been thinking: Does this guy really plan on going back to normal?
It was probably a joke, but from his words alone, sometimes it felt like he wouldn't mind living like this forever.
The thought made Asher's gaze sharpen.
Perhaps reading something in that look, Versia grinned slyly and said,
"What's the body matter? It's who's inside that counts."
"The body matters to me too...!"
"Not to me. I can accept any knight."
Asher flinched, his shoulders trembling.
For some reason, he felt like a bad person judging by appearances.
"I-I think the inner self is important too."
"Changing your tune now?"
"I'm not! These are different things!"
"You're being stubborn. Hmm... Oh, right, it's almost that time..."
"Ack!"
Asher cut her off sharply.
His gaze shot out with bewilderment.
Yet she seemed unfazed by it and dropped another bombshell.
"You know your cycle by now. I can't keep telling you every time."
"Ugh...!"
Asher shot her a resentful glare, his face flushing red.
But that didn't change what was coming.
In the end, a sigh escaped him. He had no idea how the conversation veered here, but it planted another worry in his mind.
He'd been through it several times already, but 'that cycle' was hellish.
Especially in a situation where combat was possibleit was even worse.
Not knowing when a fight might break out, and having to endure those cramps? What a cruel coincidence.
"...A total disaster."
"Think positive. The best is if you don't get thrown into battle."
Versia looked out the window.
The house was built on the island's high ground, so the sea stretched out beyond the window.
Her eyes darkened.
"It better resolve well."
Asher also pressed his lips tight, staring seriously at the sea beyond.
They still hadn't secured an agreement with the final archipelago.
And the treacherous sea was shrouded in storm clouds.
* * *
Rumble
The sky growled.
The storm was ferocious, and the swaying trees added an ominous noise to the chaos.
"We'll halt the plan until the storm passes! Launching ships in this weather is suicide!"
Peric left those words and shouted to the pirates.
"Secure the ships! Get all goods into the warehouse! The food! Protect the food!!!"
"Hey! Prioritize the fruit! We'll all die without it!!!"
"Aaaah! Someone block the fields up there!"
The pirates buzzed frantically at the approaching storm.
Yet they moved with orderly efficiency, as if this wasn't their first rodeo.
Asher watched the scene from the window, then drew the curtains and stepped back inside.
And faced a sight that left him flustered.
"Th-that..."
"...Quiet. I know, so don't say it."
I haven't said a word yet.
He held back those words.
Cold sweat trickled down Asher's cheek.
It was because Versia sat in the middle of the bed, wrapped head to toe in blankets, scowling.
'Scared of lightning?'
That was kinda cuno, what was he thinking?
Asher shook his head vigorously and approached the bed.
She'd looked off since the storm clouds gathered, and now this.
Still worried, he sat on the edge of the bed, and Versia spoke.
"It's not like I'm scared of lightning like a kid. I just hate storms."
"Ah, y-yes..."
"Bad memories."
That was the moment.
Asher realized cold sweat covered her entire body.
Her breathing was irregular too.
His expression grew more concerned.
'Bad memories.'
Come to think of it, he'd never heard about Versia's life before entering the church as a saintess.
No related info either.
What Asher knew was one thing.
Her surname, Astarion, referred to a minor kingdom in the western allied kingdoms.
In other words, she was born royalty and joined the church after receiving her calling.
It was odd that no info existed on a royal's past, but no one knew the details.
He could investigate, but that carried risks.
Not because she was royal, but because accessing saintess records was taboo in many ways.
She didn't seem inclined to share whatever bad memory it was.
Asher understood that.
He didn't enjoy sharing his own past either.
Fortunately, they shared that in common.
At least he could offer her something because of it.
"Saintess."
"...What."
"Mind if I... intrude a bit?"
Versia's gaze turned to him.
Asher smiled gently, reached out, and pulled her into a soft embrace.
Then patted her back: tap, tap.
"...?"
Versia looked up at him, startled.
Asher grinned and mouthed,
"Did I ever tell you I was raised by mercenaries?"
"...Yes."
"Mischievous bunch. They loved tall tales and crude jokes. As a kid learning the world from them, I believed on stormy nights, a Rotten Cheese Dragon appeared to snatch children. Our captain started that prank."
"Rotten... Ha."
"So I'd bawl my eyes out when thunder struck. 'What if it gets me?' I'd beg the captain for help, and he'd say,"
Asher chuckled softly.
"'Crying solves nothing. Saving yourself is stepping forward through despair, kid.'"
"And he gives a serious answer like that?"
"He was dead serious about the Rotten Cheese Dragon."
"What a rascal."
"Yeah, a real rascal. Anyway... On stormy nights, the woman who was like a mother to me would pat my back like this all night. Her name was Hwaranthe Eastern martial artist who taught me my footwork."
Hwaran was the only woman in their band of about ten mercenaries.
She doted on him especially, treating him like her own child.
"On nights like this, she'd tell old Eastern folktales. You know Eastern dragons have no wings? They're long serpents with beards, breathing spirits into clouds to ride them across the sky."
"......"
"Hwaran said storms follow their path. Eastern dragons are auspiciousso when drought hit and thunder rolled, people cheered that a dragon came to save the folk."
The story dragged on.
Asher finally got to his point.
"That day, lightning meant something else to me. Not the Rotten Cheese Dragon, but meeting an Eastern spirit."
"'It depends on how you think.' Something like that, right?"
"When bad memories surface, why not think of Eastern dragons instead?"
In truth, if thinking it away worked, it wouldn't be so tough.
So Asher added, swallowing his embarrassment,
"Or... think of me."
A glint flashed in Versia's eyes.
Asher ignored his burning ears and continued.
"Cover bad memories with good ones. So, days like this... talking with me... W-well, assuming this becomes a good memory!"
"......"
"Ugh... I-I think days with you are good times..."
Asher shrank back.
The more he spoke, the more it sounded self-contradictory.
Why? Because interpreting his own words led there.
Being with me is good.
Think of me in hard times.
It sounded like something a self-absorbed nut would say.
He wasn't used to comforting others.
Asher usually eliminated the cause, not soothed it.
Versia's silent upward gaze stung.
He was sneakily avoiding her eyes.
"Pfft..."
Versia let out a small laugh.
Then buried her head in his chest.
"Eek...!"
As Asher startled, Versia mumbled,
"I think so too."
"Y-yes...?"
"Good. Being with you, Knight."
Fun... probably.
Her choice of ambiguous words flustered Asher again.
His heart pounded.
"I can hear your heartbeat."
"...It's beating, so of course."
"Pretty steady."
It was hot.
Having his heartbeat exposed stirred a strange mix of shame and heat.
By then, the cold sweat on Versia's body had stopped. Her tense muscles began to relax.
Right after,
"...Feels nice."
Versia murmured drowsily and started dozing off.
Asher couldn't move, just holding her like that.
Which made it,
"...Saintess?"
awkward to shift positions.
* * *
The next morning, the storm had passed.
The sky was clear, without a single cloud lingering where the gale had swept.
The sailors emerged, catching their breath.
Asher stepped out with Versia too.
Asher looked grumpy; Versia smirked.
"Sorry. Wait, no need? Now that I think, those were my breasts."
"Only now you claim it's your body!"
"Breasts are great. I get why guys lose it over them..."
"Ah, come on!"
"Can I touch them?"
"No!"
Last night had been rough.
Asleep, Versia burrowed deeper into his arms, clinging tight so he couldn't escape.
They ended up sleeping in the same bed.
Sleep evaded him.
The breath on his chest and pressure kept Asher tense, twisting uncomfortably all night.
That was tolerable.
What could he do to a sleeping person?
The problem came after she woke.
-Ah, breasts.
Her first groggy words were that.
He was so dumbfounded he let out a hollow laugh.
His annoyance grew, leading to his current pouty glare.
That was when they reached the harbor.
The playful mood shattered with a dire situation.
"I-it moved! This thing's alive!"
Somewhere at the harbor, clustered pirates surrounded something.
It was a half-human, half-fish abomination. Captain Peric looked down gravely and said,
"...Human. This guy's human. Cursed."
The air froze solid.
It had to.
The ship it came on flew the flag of,
"The northern archipelago's fallen. We move now!"
the pirate fleet ruling the archipelago's north.