Chapter 10
"N-No... I hate it..."
The saintess bit back tears, drowning in regret. The moment she'd heard the goddess's voice, she should never have blabbed about it to anyone—that thought now dominated her mind.
A saintess born in the squalid red-light district of Raksha Street. Even the Pope had formally acknowledged that she was chosen by the goddess, but people's gazes toward her didn't change easily. Most doubted her authenticity, and people like Jena von Darius, wrapped up in their own arrogance, were especially vicious about it.
Go to Kalein Village. My arrangements await you there.
Then came the goddess's voice amid all that. It was the first oracle in decades, and thrilled at the chance to prove she was the real deal, Marian had boasted about it to everyone.
And this was the result.
"Well, isn't this a mess? You're so soaked I can't even inspect properly."
"...Th-that's because you keep groping me. Nngh..."
"What? You getting off on this or something?"
The man supposedly the goddess's "arrangement" was freely ravaging her most private place. She desperately wanted to stop his insolence, but Marian couldn't dare. If she went back without the hero she'd bragged about bringing, the suspicious stares would only sharpen.
"Wh-who's getting off? And that spot's already... my ass, no... haaht!"
"Hm? This one's definitely twitching like it's enjoying it."
"Haa... n-no... haang, it is... nngh!"
The guy had started out saying he'd check the brand on her ass, but now he ignored it completely, obsessively fingering her pussy instead. What drove her mad was how every brush of his fingers sent unbearable pleasure surging through her.
"Haaht... haaaang!"
"Keep moaning like that, and the ones outside will hear."
"Hmph!"
At the hero's words, Marian frantically clamped a hand over her mouth. She knew exactly what this meant. Before she was a saintess, she was from a whorehouse—she'd known about sex since she was a kid. Not that she had much experience herself. Her mother had protected her from all the lecherous men who eyed her, and above all, Marian despised the act itself. She'd always found it repulsive, watching her nameless mother writhe grotesquely under strangers, spilling lewd moans.
Of course, if Marian's beauty had fully bloomed, no mere whore could have shielded her, and her own will would have meant nothing. Luckily, by the time she started blossoming, she'd become the saintess and preserved her chastity.
"Hnnnght... s-stop..."
"'Stop'? You're loving it too much for that."
"Haaak... haaaang... haaht... ah... n-not there, no."
Marian felt her brain melting from the sounds spilling from her own mouth. Wasn't this just like her loathed mother? Jena outside might hear these filthy noises—she tried stifling her moans, but her body was wrecked, beyond control. Honestly, knowing Jena was out there only amplified the pleasure.
"Your hole's clenching. Like it's begging for my fingers."
Marian bit her lower lip hard at the man's taunt as he toyed with her pussy like a plaything. His fingers stirred her indifferently, mechanically—no deeper intent. Baring her pussy was humiliating enough; his attitude piled on the degradation.
"Want me to stick 'em in? If you do, I will."
"N-no way... huaaah!"
Despite her words, she felt her hole eagerly awaiting his fingers. She sensed his rough, thick digits slowly pushing inside.
And in that instant—
Marian felt something snap in her head.
"Haaaaht... n-nooo!"
Her pussy gushed like it was broken. Crushing shame and humiliation crushed her, but a thrilling liberation electrified her body. It was a dizzying sensation she'd never known.
'Ha, who knew the saintess bitch would squirt.'
I stared at my drenched arm, thinking that. My hand was soaked in her squirt, my sleeve clinging wetly to my skin. Back then, I might not have known what it meant, but after Lina, I'd seen it a few times. Even after countless fucks, Lina only squirted like this a handful of times.
I wiped the liquid off with a rag from around the house and eyed the saintess. Legs limp from the orgasm, she sat in her own mess, trembling—her back view was damn erotic. Just looking made my cock throb painfully.
"Haa... haa..."
Panting raggedly, she looked up at me with hazy eyes. Humiliation and shame filled them, but they also burned with craving. Like me, she was aroused. I knew exactly what those eyes wanted.
'Not yet. Not yet.'
I suppressed my urges despite her quivering, pleading gaze. I could fuck her senseless if I wanted, but the timing sucked. Hell, fucking her like this wouldn't even scratch a fraction of my grudge. For proper revenge, I needed this twisted dynamic to ripen more. Leaving her like this would torment her plenty too—she had no outlet like I did.
"...Checked it out."
"...What?"
"I'll tag along. Got a problem with that?"
I tossed the rag at Marian. It smacked her face and dropped; her cheeks flushed deeper with shame. No choice but to clean up, she wiped her pussy with it.
"Why would I? I keep my promises."
She cleaned herself, dressed, and spoke. Unlike before stripping, she didn't seem to mind exposing her body anymore.
I smirked inwardly at her change and nodded.
"Of course. But I've got stuff to sort, so we leave tomorrow."
"...One day. Fine."
She pondered briefly, then nodded. Her face screamed exhaustion anyway.
"Allen!"
Stepping outside with the saintess, Ghetto's voice hit me immediately. The old man fidgeted anxiously, unable to enter his own home—probably held back by Jena and her holy knights. Lucky, considering what went down with Marian, but not fun knowing he'd waited outside. Two knights in holy orders gripped his arms.
"What the hell is this?"
I strode toward Jena. She stared at me and the saintess, then replied shamelessly.
"We couldn't let just anyone near the saintess, so we held him briefly."
"Ha? This is his house. What right do you have to grab him?"
I shot her a cold glare. I knew she was a pain, but her gall pissed me off.
"Right? Rights belong to the strong. What rights do you have?"
She looked at me like I was the idiot.
Strength? She seemed pathetically small mouthing off about it, but I just smiled. She'd admitted the weak have no rights—words I'd use against her forever.
'Ha, this bitch or that one—neither's changed a bit.'
Of course not. They were the same as before; only I'd regressed and changed.
"Strength, huh... I'll remember that."
I locked eyes with her. My words must've sounded laughable; she burst out chuckling like she couldn't hold it.
"Do. Etch it in deep, hero."
Ending the chat, I approached Ghetto slowly. I itched to show Jena the gap in our power, but reassuring the old man came first. The knights still gripped his arms tight even as I neared.
"Let go. Nicely now?"
I bared my teeth at them. Ghetto was tough, but pushing sixty. And against prayer-and-pushup holy knights? It had to hurt, or at least chafe.
They glanced at Jena, then released him a beat late. I logged the grudge and spoke to him.
"Old man, you heard, but I'm the hero."
"...What the sudden—"
"Haa. Explains why I bulked up outta nowhere, right?"
I grinned at him. His face twisted complexly, but he didn't burden me with words.
"Eh, annoying, but I'll play hero."
"...Made up your mind?"
After a pause, his question came. I nodded slowly. He'd probably asked the same in my past life.
'And told me to run if I didn't want it or was scared.'
I smiled, recalling. In over twenty hero years, only he ever said that.
"Oh, and we're moving. You too."
"What now?"
"Got a place in the capital lined up. Prep to go. Details later."
I told him and quickened my pace—plenty to handle before leaving tomorrow.
"Lina."
"...Wh-what brings you here, hero... sir?"
First stop: Lina's house. She looked lost on how to treat her suddenly exalted childhood friend. I gave her a wry smile.
Village girls see heroes as fairy-tale legends, but reality's different. My twenty years proved it: hero? Big whoop.
"Kinda hurts. Hearing you say it like that."
I spilled honestly. Surprised, Lina stared, then burst into tears.
"I-I... thought since you're a hero now, and the saintess and knights came... you'd leave."
"Yeah, I am leaving."
I answered straight. Bad timing or not, no lies to her.
"Th-then why come here?"
She pouted angrily again. Her mood swings amused me—better than the awkward hero-worship.
"Got a favor to ask, Lina."
"...A favor? From me?"
Her eyes widened; she pointed at herself. No clue what a hero might need from a plain girl like her.