Rust Causes a Scene at the Wedding!? #2
In my opinion, Cathy Volterre was no virgin.
In this fallen world, the word virgin was one no one but Psyche had any right to claim.
That was a genuine fact.
There was a reason I'd singled out Psyche Agarpe as the soulmate of my soul from among so many women, you know?
Noble young ladies who ought to have been chaste would claim to be preserving their purity while engaging in anal sex or oral sex—well, that sort of thing happened a lot.
From the beginning, the Bible said that even hating your brother in your heart was the sin of murder.
If even harboring lustful thoughts toward someone in your heart counted as the sin of lust, then holding a man's hand or going on a date?
Was that still a virgin?
I know, I know.
The standards for a pure virgin are pretty damn strict, right? Even liking a man in your heart means you're not a virgin.
But that's what the Bible says, so what can you do? If you want to argue, argue with the Lord, not me.
Therefore, unless a woman was on Psyche's level, every woman was a non-virgin.
Which meant Cathy was definitely a non-virgin too. Surely she'd had a crush on someone, held someone's hand, or kissed someone at some point in her life?
"No! I-I'm a virgin! I'm a virgin! I only did it with my ass! I'm a virgin! I said I'm a virgin! My hymen's still intact! Save me! I-I can't breathe! It itches!"
So Cathy had done anal sex too.
This lewd bitch!
Aaron Orleans was soon thrown into a panic.
"Cathy Volterre! What are you saying! What did you do with your ass! With whom, exactly!"
"Kuhahahah! Cathy Volterre, your lewdness is my power—well then, I've had my fun!"
Whoosh—!
I used the acrid smoke belching from the flames as cover and vacated the premises.
Rust's work here was done.
"Catch him!"
"Get him!"
"Begone! Do you think the likes of you can handle me, Rust, a wanted man with a fifty-gold bounty! I am Rust, Great Sin Seat of Lust!!! Anyone who stands in my way, I shall impale upon this cock of mine!"
I bellowed at the top of my lungs at the soldiers blocking my path. Whether startled by my thunderous voice or not, the soldiers either clapped their hands over their ears or shrank back step by step.
"Great Sin Seat?"
"Rust… I've heard that name. He's the author of Gwichukdo! A master of murder! S-so the thing about his cock being a meter long was real!"
"R-run! Rust doesn't discriminate against men either! If he stabs you, you die!"
"Hiiiii—!"
Cowards!
Fleeing without so much as a backward glance at the mere name of a Great Sin Seat. If you're a noble's soldiers, shouldn't you be prepared to fight to the death!
Of course, not everyone was running away.
"Rust! I've always wanted to meet you! They say if you prostrate yourself at your feet, your cock grows a centimeter! I-I'll be your servant!"
"Hey, Hans! Are you betraying us! You! You bastard! Did you just cut down your own comrade!"
"Shut up, you son of a bitch! As of today, I'm quitting this underpaid soldier job! Lord Rust is the true savior of this world! Lord Rust! I'll hold them here—hurry and go rape some other women! The world belongs to Lord Rust and the Blood Crusade! Kyaaaaah!!!"
Internal strife, huh.
I had written in Gwichukdo that the cocks of men who worshiped Rust would grow by one centimeter each. For reference, in the case of women, their breasts would grow larger, their waists would slim, and their skin would improve.
Naturally, that was complete bullshit.
But in this uncivilized world, it seemed there were people who actually believed that sort of thing.
Well, even in the twenty-first century with the internet and smartphones, there are people who believe in cults claiming, "I am the Second Coming of Jesus."
So what do you expect from this barbaric medieval era?
In fact, five years ago, plenty of followers had believed my bluster and trailed after me. Some even bragged that their cocks or breasts had actually gotten bigger.
As those rumors tangled together, the prestige of Rust and his followers only grew more formidable. Probably at the start of it all, there had been naive types like this soldier named Hans.
"Hans! As of today, your cock shall grow one centimeter longer! And when you go to hell, seventy-two beauties shall attend at your side and serve you for all eternity! Kuhahah!"
"Long live Lord Rust!"
I fled just like that.
Then I stripped off the robe, removed the mask, and headed back to the Volterre mansion—now in an uproar—to meet Baron Volterre.
"Baron Volterre! What on earth is going on!"
"Oh dear! Young Master Hyde! Disaster! Rust! That fiend Rust appeared and did this to my daughter…!"
"Aaagh! It itches! It itches, damn it! Fuck! It itches…!"
Cathy Volterre was thrashing about, rubbing her body against the floor like a madwoman—as if she'd take a plane to her own skin if someone handed her one.
Looking at that spectacle, I spoke to Baron Volterre.
"Rust—that man is a monster who feeds on people's sense of sin. Baron Volterre, you failed to offer tithes and stole what belongs to God, so he caught the scent of that sin and came to this mansion, did he not!"
"You're saying Rust appeared and reduced my daughter to this state because of my sins?"
Baron Volterre.
His expression was steeped in extreme bewilderment. And he seemed deeply shaken.
That's right.
Stimulating a sense of guilt.
This was a common technique used by priests and clergy.
You got into an accident?
That's because you don't go to church.
Got fired from your job?
That's because you didn't pay your tithe.
Of course, in my opinion, this kind of talk wasn't right.
But the method was extraordinarily effective.
Human beings want to find a "reason" for their misfortunes, you see.
"Baron Volterre, offer five hundred gold coins as a donation! This may well be divine punishment sent by God! If you give me the donation, I shall bless you and try to lift this curse!"
"If I give you a donation, you can heal my daughter?"
I could see the greedy, distrustful gleam flash in the eyes of the cunning Volterre.
I shouted at him.
"Have you not heard that it was I, Hyde, who cured Psyche's illness? Rust's curse may be a bit tricky, but it can be broken!"
"Even so, five hundred gold coins isn't money that just appears out of nowhere…"
"Volterre! Are you fine with your only daughter dying! If Cathy dies like this, she dies because of you! It's not Rust's curse—it's your hesitation that is killing Cathy!"
"I'm killing her!?"
Volterre.
He rolled his eyes this way and that, then finally cried out.
"Sebas! Bring the gold coins! Five hundred! Quickly! If you don't hurry, my daughter will die! If my daughter dies like this, I'll hold everyone responsible, so bring them at once!"
Clink—.
Presently a servant appeared carrying a box containing five hundred gold coins.
I looked at it with a solemn expression.
"I shall take her to the Grand Cathedral and bless her with holy water. Everyone, please help support Lady Cathy."
Swoosh—.
I took Cathy straight to the Grand Cathedral. The Grand Cathedral wasn't far, and after laying the suffering Cathy on the ground in front of it, I spoke.
"Lady Cathy, you must repent of your sins. The Lord is One who will forgive all sins if only you confess honestly. My lady, receive forgiveness for your sins."
"I-I…"
"You will be freed from your suffering. Rust—that man uses people's 'guilt' to cast curses and exploit them. If you feel no guilt, there is no reason for you to be swayed by Rust's curse."
Gaslighting using guilt.
That was the truth of the "curse" Rust spoke of.
Say a shaman tells you, "If you don't hold a ritual, your ancestors will get angry and misfortune will strike."
When someone who heard that trips on a rock in the street, there are cases where they think, "Ah, is it because I didn't hold the ritual?"
When in reality, that's not it at all.
Rust's curse was exactly that kind of feeling.
"I… had anal sex with Vex from the blacksmith's."
"I see. The Lord will forgive that sin—"
"And I also did it with Philip the gardener. And with a wandering monk who said he came from abroad, and with dark-skinned Jack, and with the maids Moira and Kimberly too…"
What an incredible slut this one was.
But as Cathy confessed her sins like that, her condition improved dramatically.
Well, of course—she'd gotten far away from the source of the allergy.
There wasn't a scrap of peanut ground in this Grand Cathedral, after all.
Swoosh—.
I took water from the leather waterskin at my waist and wiped Cathy's face.
It wasn't holy water—just plain water.
For some reason I still couldn't make holy water, you see.
"Cathy, I swear before the Lord that your sins shall be forgiven. For the Lord is One who forgives any sinner."
I meant those words sincerely.
No matter how lewd and wanton a harlot she was, if she only repented, she could be forgiven.
Of course—.
I didn't know how Aaron Orleans, who was about to become her husband, would feel about it.
In fact, Aaron Orleans was looking at Cathy Volterre as if she were some kind of insect.
I spoke to that Aaron.
"Young Master Aaron, how fortunate that your future wife was so popular. Meeting many men is proof of how charming and passionately she lived, is it not? For reference, my wife Psyche is so lacking in charm that she says she's never even held another man's hand besides mine."
"Aaron—. Forgive me."
Saying so, Cathy also shed tears in fat drops.
I patted that Cathy's shoulder.
"Is this not a sin the Lord has already forgiven? Would a family as great, prestigious, devout, and generous as the Orleans house—which has produced six knights—speak of breaking off an engagement over something like this?"
I looked at Aaron's face.
The man with the short-grown beard had veins standing out on his forehead, and the capillaries in his eyes had burst, staining them red. But he let out a long sigh and then spoke.
"…I have already forgiven her. But unlike the love I hold for Lady Cathy, this matter is between family and family, so I shall discuss it with my father first."
"Discuss it with your father! Aaron! What are you saying! You said you loved me! You said you loved everything about me! If you truly love me—you have to love my past too!"
"Th-that's—"
"The experiences of my past are what made me who I am today! Aaron Orleans! If you love me, you have to love even the experiences I had with the men I met in the past!"
What an absolute madwoman.
Aaron Orleans's expression grew more and more crumpled.
Soon Baron Volterre, who had been watching this scene, cried out.
"W-well then, let's put out the fire and finish the wedding! With this, House Volterre and House Orleans are family! Wah—, what a splendid outcome!"
"No, I think we need to give this marriage further consideration after all."
Aaron said so while glaring at me.
Why was he glaring at me?
It's not my fault your marriage partner played around promiscuously in the past.
But I offered that Aaron words of consolation with a sympathetic heart.
"This has become truly complicated. See, if you'd just given me the three hundred gold coins properly when I asked, this sort of thing wouldn't have happened. You all need to repent."
The misfortune that befell these people today was not my fault.
I had merely done what was proper as a servant of the Lord.
But non-virgin, huh.
Even if it was only a few pages of short fiction, I'd gone and written erotica again.
This was something that needed repenting, and I repented with a heart that felt like it was being torn apart.