The Saintess Who Saw God After One Push-Up
Truly fortunate. Truly, how fortunate!
Kyle woke an hour earlier than usual.
He was headed for the newly established chapel at the academy—more precisely, his purpose was to see the Saintess who resided there.
Of course, he could never skip his workout. That was exactly why he had risen an hour early.
He had to hit his target before leaving, or he would never erase the anxiety and guilt gnawing at his heart.
Working out alone in the empty gym before dawn felt wonderfully refreshing.
If only it could stay like this forever—no one else around at all.
Once morning or evening arrived and students started showing up, it became a little hard to take. All they ever did was chat for ten minutes and touch a machine once. Enough to drive a man completely up the wall.
Yet throwing them all out so he could monopolize the place would be far too shameless.
Having finished his slightly early morning session, Kyle stepped outside.
The campus was deserted. Probably because the morning sun was only just rising. Even the most diligent souls would only now be waking and washing up.
At that hour Kyle had already finished training and was on his way to the chapel.
With morning prayers to attend, Saintess Hilde should already be up by now.
And just as he expected, the moment he entered the chapel he came face-to-face with the Saintess in her priestly robes.
“Brother Kyle? What brings you here at this early hour?”
She blinked her mysterious silver eyes and tilted her head again and again. She herself rose early because it was her duty, yet Kyle’s sudden appearance inside the chapel clearly left her curious.
“I wanted to thank you for yesterday as well, Saintess.”
“Yesterday…. Ah, yesterday.”
The smiling Saintess briefly invited him to sit.
“Did you have a good time with Sister Tisha?”
“Yes. All thanks to you, Saintess.”
“Thanks to me? Sister Tisha was the one who proposed it, and Brother Kyle was the one who accepted. I truly did nothing at all regarding the two of you, you know?”
Saying so, the Saintess chuckled softly. It was the pure joy of simply celebrating another’s good news with them.
“Did you wake this early just to tell me that?”
“Not quite. I rise at this hour to train. Much the same as how you rise early for dawn prayers or morning prayers, Saintess.”
“Brother Kyle, you truly live so diligently. Some of the brothers simply cannot overcome their laziness.”
“Laziness does not exist in John Nassen. Anyone who still carries that laziness would become diligent and industrious in no time if they set foot in the John Nassen Territory.”
It was no joke. It was the absolute truth. He would stake anything on it.
John Nassen was the place that forced diligence upon you if you lacked it. With your life under threat, what fool would dare stay lazy?
Even he, who once hated the very letter “e” of “exercise,” had become a full-fledged gym rat. Skip a single day and anxiety set in; he grew irritable for no reason and felt as though he had committed a sin.
He had fled all the way to the academy precisely to escape that workout hell. So why could he not break the habit—why had he forced himself to rise an hour early again this morning!
“Exercise… Ah, that’s right! Come to think of it!”
Suddenly flapping both arms, the Saintess showed clear urgency. Wondering what was wrong, Kyle watched quietly—then blinked.
“…What are you doing?”
“The form you taught me last time!”
The form from last time? Ah, he remembered—minimal strength training. Yet no matter how he looked at it, what she was doing was nothing like what he had shown her. She was not moving that way at all. Method, sequence—everything was wrong.
“Saintess? If you move your arms like that there… No, why are your legs also…”
“That’s why! It’s too hard! Please help me a little! You specially requested this of me, Brother, yet no matter how hard I try I simply cannot do it because I am lacking!”
“….”
He could hardly tell the Saintess, “What kind of nonsense is that?” He had not taught any difficult pose—just simple strength work. So why on earth was she contorting herself into something so absurd? There was no need for that form in the first place. No, Saintess—what exactly are you doing?
“Isn’t this how you do it! Ngh! L-like this!”
“…Absolutely not.”
Please do not do that in the chapel, Saintess. You are not a Dragoon. It felt as though a “Twisted Monster of the Underworld” had just been summoned inside the holy place.
“Um, Saintess. First, about your attire…”
“Yes? What’s wrong with my priestly robes? Is there a problem?”
Of course there was a problem. Who would wear clothes like that for physical work? They were so ridiculously baggy that every movement would have her stepping on and crushing the fabric—or a simple turn would drop the cloth over her face like a blackout curtain.
“And every movement is wrong. That is not how you do it.”
“Eh?! Why?! I did it correctly though?!”
“That is not what ‘correct’ looks like.”
At Kyle’s words the Saintess made a teary face. She had clearly poured every ounce of effort into it. Being told it was completely wrong from the start seemed to sadden her over her own inadequacy.
“Then please teach me again! I really want to succeed! It is something Brother Kyle specially requested for my sake—I absolutely cannot fail to fulfill it because of my shortcomings!”
Normally he would have said it was fine, that this much effort was already enough, and spoken kindly. Honestly, if the Saintess had tried even this hard, that alone would have been plenty!
But the blood of John Nassen—the iron will of a hardcore gym bro forged in that place—would not allow it.
“Then I will teach you a little more carefully. Please follow along well.”
In the end, that presence revealed itself even before the Saintess.
If it had been up to him he would have dragged the Saintess straight to the gym. But she could not casually leave her domain—the chapel. And more decisively, after seeing her condition, Kyle judged it was still far too early for that place.
What kind of disastrously unathletic person is this?
Inside the Saintess’s personal quarters prepared within the chapel, the moment he began teaching simple exercises he felt a chill of foreboding. He demonstrated himself, held her arms and legs to show the positions, repeated it several times—yet still—
“I-is this how you do it?!”
“Incorrect.”
Kyle nearly clutched his face and muttered “Oh God” more than once, but held it in.
No. Our Saintess could not possibly be this unathletic. Impossible. Someone so beautiful, so cute, so kind—there was no way she could be such a terrible athlete!
He had no idea where even to begin fixing this.
The will to try, and the effort, were clearly present—intensely so. The problem was that her body refused to cooperate even a little. She could not even properly copy the basic push-up form; it was enough to drive him mad. And then there was how abysmal her baseline stamina proved to be.
After ten full minutes just to settle into the push-up position, she managed a single rep—then “Gah!”—and collapsed right there.
“I-it’s hard. Brother Kyle…. I-I think I can see the Lord…”
I think I can see God too. Oh. Fuck, Lord.
Did You give the Saintess everything and, in exchange, give her a body that simply cannot exercise? She moved for a single minute and claims she can see God. What am I supposed to do with her?
…No. Maybe it’s only natural.
What was the Saintess’s main duty? Prayer to God, of course. She often went out for volunteer work, yet with the Church’s pride at stake she would never be assigned hard labor. Beyond that, he had heard she always traveled by carriage. They could not casually reveal the Saintess’s radiant figure to just anyone, was that it?
So in practical terms she was someone completely distant from exercise to begin with. All she ever did was sit indoors for work; even when she went outside it was only for light tasks. On top of that she never walked—only rode in carriages—and decisively, she had always been unathletic.
What kind of ultimate complete package is this?
Kyle pondered. Truly, seriously pondered. What should he do with this Saintess? Give up? Or try a little longer?
Exercise was something you asked of people who could actually do it. Some people tried and simply could not. For those unfortunates the answer was, sadly, “We’ll refund your full fee—please leave.”
“Brother Kyle!!”
Had she somehow overheard his contemplative thoughts? The Saintess, still slumped on the floor and panting hard, seized his hand.
“I-I’ll work really hard! I’ll definitely fulfill Brother’s request!”
The request that she simply exercise a little for her own sake had somehow turned into an absolute obligation she had to fulfill. It felt a bit strange, but so what? With that kind of attitude, teaching her was actually rewarding. Even if she was unathletic, wasn’t it still far better than people who had no will at all!
…was immediately revoked.
“Saintess.”
“Hieeeeut!”
“Saintess Hilde.”
“Y-yeees! Brother!!”
“Um… well. I think you can stop now.”
“But! I haven’t finished yet…!”
“No. You really can stop.”
There was a certain phenomenon: a good student watching a poor one felt frustration; a fit person watching an unathletic one felt ready to lose their mind. Yet there also existed cases that transcended even that—cases that simply left you feeling sorry and guilty.
The Saintess right now was exactly that. The will to try, the visible effort—all excellent. The problem was that her body could not keep up with even 0.1 percent of that will or effort. The sight was so pitiful and heartbreaking that, in the end, he felt sorry for ever having brought up exercise in the first place.
“Hiiing.”
In the end the Saintess, who had not even completed the target number of reps, made another teary face.
“I’m sorry. It must be frustrating, right? Because I’ve only ever stayed inside so much…”
“Absolutely not. It’s simply that I need to head to my morning lectures soon.”
“Ah… I see. Ah! I’m sorry! Then shouldn’t you hurry and go?!”
“I think I should. And regarding what I said—it is absolutely not because you are lacking, Saintess.”
“No! People are always lacking. That is why we constantly learn, train, and cultivate ourselves! I will keep working hard! I will definitely show Brother Kyle an improved version of myself!”
There were things in the world that even willpower could not achieve, or so he had heard—but for now he would simply have to wait and see.
Kyle offered a hearty “Ha-ha!”, shouted “Do your best!”, and fled the chapel.
All the while praying that the Lord would at least grant the Saintess a minimal sense for exercise.