Reason for Retirement: The Saintess's Audience Chamber
The reason for my retirement was the Saintess's Audience Chamber. It was a sanctuary among sanctuaries, a place said to permit entry only to saints qualified to attend the Saintess—a holy ground that anyone living under her benevolence could not help but admire and envy. Even in this very moment, all those captivated by the Saintess's radiance were likely honing their beliefs without end, polishing their faith in the hope of earning the supreme honor of praising that precious being from the closest possible seat. All of it was for the great cause of defeating the Demon King. For the sake of extolling the compassionate Saintess who had offered her entire life without compensation. The followers' love for the Saintess would never fade, never stop, would know no restraint and would never halt.
But. Right now, my steps toward that glorious sanctuary were by no means light. No, they were heavy. I didn't want to go. If at all possible, I wanted to turn around immediately, return to my cozy room, wash my feet, and crawl straight into bed. To the point that if someone appeared to take over my duties, I would hand the position over with a full-faced smile and zero hesitation.
Thud. Thud. The gloomy corridor, empty of any other soul, amplified my solitary footsteps to an eerie degree, casting an indefinable sense of dread in every direction. The symbolically arranged rows of glass windows felt desolate—bordering on outright unpleasant in their alien quality.
The root of these thoughts had to be the familiar figures visible even from the far end of the long hallway.
After spitting out that carefree complaint with a sigh, I hastily corrected my dawdling pace into hurried strides.
"The Saintess's breakfast time is right around the corner! Where the hell is that bastard Reygis wandering off to now!"
"He's lazy to the core, so he's probably passed out asleep somewhere again..."
"I don't understand why the Saintess would ever choose a lowlife like him as her guardian priest... Good grief..."
These voices were even more unpleasant to hear than an early-morning alarm. They belonged to people I wanted to ignore as much as humanly possible.
"G-good morning, everyone~! Seniors~!"
I flashed the brightest smile I could muster in an attempt to clear the frigid atmosphere, but it didn't seem to work at all. The men in white priest robes—the same cut as my own black ones, only differing in color—wore expressions stained with hostility and disgust that clashed horribly with their solemn attire.
"I told you to move faster! You brainless idiot!"
"Haah... That moron..."
"Tsk!"
"Ha... Hahaha... I-I'm sorry..."
I wished I could show the person who coined the phrase "you can't spit on a smiling face" exactly what these men's expressions looked like right now.
"From the very beginning! You lack even the slightest awareness that you're in a position to attend the Saintess! Do you have any idea what an immense honor that is for us guardian priests!? If you've taken on a role far beyond your station, the least you could do is show some basic responsibility and sincerity! Do you understand!?"
"Haha..."
When things reached this point, anything I said would only earn more abuse, so laughing it off was the wisest move.
And so, while these heaven-sent seniors vented their frustration on their dim-witted junior, a timely interruption arrived.
"Good to see you, Priest Reygis. The Saintess is waiting. Please come in."
"Ah, yes! Right away!"
"Tch..."
Thanks to the nun who had stepped in at just the right moment, I escaped the crisis. This was exactly why I always cut my arrival time so close. Those men were diligent enough to wake up an hour or two early just to harass an unsatisfactory newcomer, lying in wait along my route without fail.
Honestly, I couldn't say I didn't understand how they felt. The position of exclusive guardian priest to the Saintess was the highest possible honor for those who served her. Yet for reasons no one could fathom, an incompetent half-baked priest like me—a total parachute hire—had snatched it up and was now living the easy life. It was only natural they'd feel bitter.
I, too, had once been dragged into active duty simply for being born healthy, and I'd harbored my own unfair jealousy toward the less fortunate public-service workers. So I had enough grace to sympathize with my seniors' feelings.
But in this world, some truths only reveal themselves once you open the lid. Even a Yu-Gi-Oh card lying face-down on the sidewalk needs to be flipped before you know whether it's a rare or not. A clever child who learned how the world worked a little faster would realize even sooner that something as valuable as a rare card would never be left discarded on the ground.
I seem to have wandered off topic. What I'm trying to say is this: don't judge someone else's life based solely on your own narrow perspective without knowing their circumstances. Call it a clichéd complaint if you like.
"Priest. Please hurry."
"Ah. Yes."
The nun's calm voice calling my name snapped me out of my tangled thoughts. When I lifted my gaze forward, an imposing door covered in unnecessarily large and ornate decorations filled my vision.
This whole thing is solid gold...
Every time I saw it, I thought the same thing: there was no greater waste of money. Did the old men running the Holy See have some kind of fetish for throwing cash down the drain? I could only imagine the citizens' faces if they ever learned their donations were being used like this.
"Here, take this."
"Yes."
What the nun handed me was a small tray. On it rested the Saintess's breakfast for the day. Freshly baked bread still steaming invitingly. A crisp salad made from only the freshest vegetables. A stew that beautifully balanced the sweetness of milk with the subtle aroma of herbs. From the smell, it seemed to contain meat today as well.
Gulp.
"You must not eat any."
I must have looked especially pathetic drooling like that, because the nun's sharp rebuke came down hard. Come on. Just because I hadn't seen a proper piece of meat in months didn't mean I would lay a hand on the Saintess's meal. Even a guardian priest had to observe basic boundaries. The nun really had sharp eyes.
"To someone like me who hasn't had a decent meal in recent memory, this feels like an excessively cruel duty... Could you deliver it in my place just for today?"
"I cannot. You know very well she will not even touch it unless you are the one who brings it."
"Ah... Right... Haa... Well, that's true, but..."
The nun probably had no idea how torturous it was to ask someone who had survived on nothing but potatoes for three meals a day for an entire month to hand over this feast to another person. I firmly believed that the reason Adam bit the apple in the Garden of Eden was because he'd been forced to eat the same food for hundreds of years.
"Then please go on your way, Priest Reygis. I will remind you once more: you must not eat any of it."
"...Yes."
Receiving the nun's worried gaze on my back—the same look one might give a child being sent on their first errand—I pushed open the heavy door.
It was pure white. As always, no other adjective came to mind for this mysterious room. Westerners who enjoyed action movies would probably say it looked like the white room from Batman. Middle-aged men who had read plenty of comics in their youth would call it an exact copy of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber from Dragon Ball. An unnaturally vast, off-puttingly white space. The Saintess's Audience Chamber.
They said even nobles donated astronomical sums every year just for the chance to set foot in this sterile, scentless place that carried not a trace of human life. I wondered. If they saw this scene with their own eyes, they might very well throw themselves to the floor demanding a refund.
Crackle. Crackle.
The occasional eerie mechanical noise filled the already unsettling white space with an ominous tension. I walked slowly toward the source of the sound, and before long I found the one person loved by all the world yet avoided by me more than anyone else.
"Saintess. Breakfast delivery has arrived~!"
I spoke brightly and clearly, careful to hide my irreverent inner thoughts. As always, no answer came back. To be honest, I hadn't expected one. It was safe to say she had almost never responded to any greeting I offered. In fact, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd ever heard her speak properly at all.
Put nicely, she was doll-like. To be blunt, she resembled a corpse. Her figure was so utterly still that calling her a living being felt wrong. When you stayed near her, you instinctively found yourself listening for the sound of her breathing or heartbeat—she carried silence with her like a shadow.
"Ahem! Saintess! It is time for breakfast~."
"..."
"Saintess, your breakfast..."
"..."
"Haa..."
Silence. More silence. I'd been doing this for quite a while now, so I should have been used to it, yet every time it happened I found myself unconsciously studying her blank expression.
Mysterious white hair like untouched snow and rubellite-colored eyes that shone with dignity despite carrying no trace of emotion. Her skin, whiter than the finest jade, made me wonder if what I'd opened wasn't a door but a jewelry box. She possessed a beauty so otherworldly that I fell into that foolish delusion every single time.
The Saintess. Welna Angelas Ashes. That was the name by which the outside world called this small woman who sat right in front of me, staring intently at a flickering TV screen.
And.
"Haa... Welna. I'm here..."
"—!!!"
The moment she heard me call her name, the girl scrambled up in a frantic rush and latched onto my sleeve. In this room, and this room alone, I called her "Welna."
"Ah! Aeuah...! Aeuahhh...!!"
"There, there... Wouldn't it be nicer if you answered like that from the start? I'll read the fairy tale book later, so let's eat first, okay?"
"Aeuah!!"
I couldn't understand a single word she said, but I pretended I had and gently stroked her silky hair as I always did.
"Okay, here comes the airplane~!"
"Nom!"
"One last bite! Open wide~!"
"Nom!"
After spending dozens of minutes experiencing the feelings of a mother bird feeding her young, I finally completed my assigned task. She really could have left a little, but watching her devour every single bite I offered made the nun's claim that she wouldn't eat a single mouthful without me sound slightly suspicious.
"Aeuah!"
"Hm? Oh, you want me to read the fairy tale?"
Having finished her meal, she demanded her reward as if she'd accomplished something incredible. Some people had to endure dozens of insults just to get one decent meal, while others received rewards simply for chewing the food they were given. What an unfair world.
"All right... Can you wait just a moment...? Ahem!"
"Mhm!"
Even though I knew perfectly well that no one else was in this space besides the two of us, I still found myself glancing around out of habit. If any of the other believers saw me speaking casually to the Saintess whom everyone revered and longed for—treating her like a preschooler and talking down to her—I would undoubtedly be executed on the spot for blasphemy.
No, perhaps I should consider death a blessing. Otherwise I might end up living in an endless cycle of torture and healing, desperately begging for death in an infinite hell. The people running the Holy See were more than capable of arranging exactly that.
"Ah...! Aah...!"
"Okay, okay... I'll read it right now..."
She plopped down onto my lap and began thumping my thigh with her little fist, urging me to start the story. The faint sound of her heartbeat drifted from her small back pressed against my chest. The weak but unmistakable pulse of life disturbed my mind. The warmth transmitted through our touching skin constantly reminded me that she was not a doll, but a living being. The sweet scent of milk wafting from her pure white hair tickled my nose.
Tick. Tock.
I deliberately focused on the occasional sound of my watch while devoting all my attention to the charming text before me. If I didn't, I felt I might never escape this enchanting space. It was a reflexive action born from pure instinctual danger.
"And so, with the prince's kiss, the princess opened her eyes and they lived happily ever after~ What a joyous occasion~ What a joyous occasion~"
"..."
How much time had passed? The fairy-tale reading session that went by the name of "breakfast time" had finally come to an end. This story must have left quite an impression, because even after I finished, she continued staring at the book with a rare trace of emotion on her face.
Her slightly pursed lips and the faint blush coloring her innocent cheeks created such an adorable sight that a smile almost slipped out. But if I didn't hurry, I would miss the priests' meal time, and I had no leisure to be distracted. The dining hall here was run by people so strict about the rules that they were practically constipated with regulation. They wouldn't serve food to anyone—not even a guardian priest—who failed to arrive on time. If I missed this chance, I'd have to make do with potatoes again this morning. That was the one thing I absolutely refused to accept.
"Well then! I'll come back at lunchtime—"
I carefully lifted the Saintess from my lap and was about to dash off, my legs carrying a prayer for breakfast that far surpassed any religious devotion, when—
"Huh?"
A powerful grip seized my trouser leg, and an ominous wave surged through my thoughts.
...No way.
"This..."
A clear, jewel-like voice. A sacred tone that seemed to carry the very will of the gods wrapped around my consciousness without echo.
"This... gonna... do...... it..."
My gaze slowly followed the direction her slender finger pointed. It landed on the fairy tale book I had just been reading to her. On the open page was an illustration of the prince kissing the princess, beautifully decorating the story's happy ending.
...I see. It's happening again... It's starting again...
I barely swallowed the sigh that nearly escaped and forcibly stretched my tense brows into a smile. Then, in the careful tone one might use to soothe a child throwing a tantrum, I lowered myself to her eye level and clearly conveyed my firm refusal.
"Um... No..."
However.
"Gonna do... it..."
"I said no right now..."
"Gonna do it..."
"Saintess. That's not permi—"
"Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it. Gonna do it."
Each time I expressed refusal, the light in her rubellite eyes faded further while that eerie, broken-radio repetition solemnly pronounced the destruction of my life. Ah, I want to retire.