Constant Love, Surprise Return
Constant Love, Surprise Return
There were two categories of variables in this world that the Saintess's divine power could not govern.
One was the King—a being who possessed an unyielding world of their own. The other was the Hero—a being who had touched the truth of the world's principles and begun to transcend the vessel of their species.
Because of this, every Saint throughout history had clashed with Kings, or failed to fully bring Heroes to submission, and their stories had all led toward tragedy.
And so Canaria devoted herself entirely to disposing of Kings and Heroes—the beings who would become variables in the paradise she intended to create.
Of course, killing every King and every Hero was impossible.
The world was vast, and their numbers were enormous.
What was more, Kings and Heroes were beings who simply came into existence somewhere, at some time, without any forewarning—their fates decided innately from birth. Exterminating every last seed of them simply wasn't possible.
First, she would spare those with whom coexistence was possible.
Canaria was not so wicked as to massacre even those who would do no harm to her paradise. Though, naturally, neither was she so foolish as to spare those who bared their fangs at her.
But regrettably, she was a single individual.
And so, first of all, she needed a trigger—something that would draw the Kings and Heroes into one place.
'For a land that produced a Hero-King, its interior is remarkably flimsy.'
This was the Ottoman Empire—the land where the Sultan, both King and Hero, had been born and had ruled. And so, working on the assumption that "there would be many Kings and Heroes here," she had personally taken to the field in this Holy War, in order to be the first to bring it down.
But reality had turned out somewhat different from her expectations.
No further Kings or Heroes existed within the Empire. The Sultan and the generals who had followed him and stood against her—those had been all of this Empire's Kings and Heroes. Or perhaps the Sultan, having seized hegemony, had purged them beforehand.
After all, those variables were beings who grated on even the Saintess—the reincarnation of God herself. He might well have nipped those existences in the bud, for the sake of his own supremacy and his own empire.
At any rate, the interior of the Empire now presented a markedly decayed appearance.
Here, where the Sultan had died, there was no longer any timber fit to become a new King to lead the Empire, nor any sprout meant to become a Hero who might save the collapsing nation.
An empire all show and no substance.
It was clearly headed toward ruin before long. An Empire that would pick a fight with the Holy Kingdom—which possessed the Saintess herself—could hardly be short on enemies.
Now that its master had vanished, there was no reason for the beasts not to set their sights on this vast land.
'Soon, the Empire itself will become a battlefield.'
When that happened, many Kings and Heroes would gather here. Kings, for the benefit of their own nations—and Heroes, for the sake of proving themselves.
At that point, she would simply have to offer them a choice.
Whether they would accept paradise, or defend their own worlds.
"...What would make a suitable souvenir for Rosaria, I wonder."
Of course, it wasn't certain. Perhaps war might not break out at all. The influence of the memory alteration had already touched quite a number of variables, after all. This was a contingency plan—not something that absolutely had to come to pass.
And so Canaria began to focus not on a future that might or might not arrive, but on a future that was certain to come.
Right now, nothing in the world mattered more than simply buying the souvenir she had promised Rosaria and bringing it to her.
And then, she wanted nothing more than to return to Rosaria's side as quickly as possible and be held by her. And then, to have her hardships acknowledged by Rosaria, and to have her hair stroked while held in her arms.
-You worked hard, Canaria.
Just as it had been once, in the days when she still bore the name of the Saintess.
"...I feel like simply abandoning all of this."
The moment she thought it, everything in this place began to feel utterly meaningless.
After all, in an Empire the Sultan had already finished purging, there were no variables—and in an Empire that had even lost Longinus, there was no weapon capable of becoming the Saintess's weakness. And the war to devour the Empire wasn't starting immediately, either.
She simply could not find a reason convincing enough to accept that she absolutely had to remain here, unable even to see Rosaria.
In that case, would it not be acceptable to leave the rest to those who remained here and return to Rosaria's side?
Could she not simply leave the diplomatic matters to the priests and diplomats, and then herself just swiftly tour the Imperial capital, buy souvenirs befitting Rosaria, and return to her?
Why in the world she had to spend four days already in this place, without her beloved Rosaria—she could not comprehend it at all.
*
"...So that's what you thought, and you simply abandoned everything and came back?"
It was deep into the night, and when word came that a guest had arrived seeking Rosaria, she had wondered who it could be—but the visitor was none other than the Saintess, who had returned in a surprise ambush, bearing so many souvenirs it was a wonder how she had carried them all.
"Y-yes, I simply couldn't endure it any longer, so I came."
The moment she entered the room, the Saintess swiftly summarized the circumstances and then immediately lunged onto the bed, speaking now with her pronunciation muffled as she clung to Rosaria with her face buried against her like a piece of stuck-on gum.
But the words were not difficult to make out.
-Yes, I couldn't endure it any longer, so I simply came.
Then, still clinging, she drew a deep breath, and with a satisfied expression, immediately lay down beside Rosaria.
The Saintess began to tremble from the happiness she was feeling after so long.
"Haa... now I finally feel alive."
The Saintess wore a satisfied expression, her cheeks flushed. Four days without Rosaria had been far too cruel for her, it seemed. Just as a person would struggle to endure four days without food or drink, Canaria was a being who struggled to endure four days without Rosalium.
To the Saintess, thus steeped in joy, Rosaria posed a question.
"...When you departed, did you not explicitly say it would be a ten-day pilgrimage?"
She felt as though a great deal of common sense was being called into question.
First, whether a war was something one could wrap up in just three days and return from. Then, whether the Saintess was permitted to disregard the contents of the Sacred Scripture. And further, whether it was acceptable to simply toss aside diplomatic affairs because one didn't feel like doing them—and so on.
"It's fine. It's only called that in name—it's not a ritual that strictly requires filling out the full ten days, you see. If one is capable, finishing quickly and returning right away poses no problem at all."
Her first question was resolved. The Saintess herself had personally attested that it was only a formality in name.
"...But in your letter, did you not say there were diplomatic matters to attend to? Is it not a significant problem—one that cannot be resolved without the Saintess... without you, Canaria, as the representative of the Holy Kingdom?"
At those words, Canaria sprang upright and shook her head in denial.
"Relations with the Empire and the like are of no consequence whatsoever to me. Right now, the only thing that matters is belatedly but richly enjoying the time I was unable to spend with my beloved Rosaria as her lover—nothing else."
The moment she finished speaking, she immediately embraced Rosaria and began to steadily slake the thirst that had still not been quenched.
But right now, a simple embrace was hardly enough to satisfy her.
The Saintess, still holding Rosaria, shifted her body this way and that, searching for the position that would allow the most perfect closeness.
Rosaria, unable to collect her wits under the surprise attack she'd suffered after four days.
The soft, nuzzling warmth pressed against her entire body began to effectively flush Rosaria's cheeks.
"Ca... Canaria...?"
An exquisite and complex, multilayered feeling rose up—pleasant, yet frightening, and even embarrassing. Still, Rosaria somehow managed to calm her burning head and strove to stop the Saintess, who was beginning to run rampant after having endured for four days.
"Haa..."
Just then, the Saintess let out a shuddering, ecstasy-laden breath. That soft, gentle warmth brushing past her ear began to heat her body even faster.
Her heart truly began to pound as though it might burst.
And the same was true for Canaria.
The two hearts began to race madly, layered atop one another, to the point where each could perceive the other's pulse.
Then Canaria parted her lips and whispered into Rosaria's ear.
"...I can feel Rosaria's heartbeat even from here."
The moment she finished speaking, her heart began to pound even harder.
"...That's proof that just as much as I love Rosaria, Rosaria loves me, isn't it?"
As she spoke, the Saintess's head gradually descended. It had begun at her shoulder, then moved to a position where their eyes met, and soon shifted lower, toward her left breast, where her heart lay.
A pair of faintly smiling lips came into view.
Soon the Saintess turned her head and pressed her own ear against Rosaria's left breast, which had begun to pound as though mad.
"With my ear against it like this, I think I'll know even more surely."
Her heart began to race as though it might burst—to the point of wondering if she might suffer a myocardial infarction today. The faster the frequency of that heartbeat grew, the clearer it became that the Saintess was enjoying it.
"...I'm relieved. That Rosaria's heart, which loves me, hasn't cooled."
Having confirmed it, the Saintess wore a satisfied expression, lifted her ear away, and gazed gently into Rosaria's eyes.
And then, as she always did, she made a request of Rosaria.
"As a token of having returned safely, kiss me, Rosaria."
As ever, it was a difficult request.
But there was no reason she could not do it, either.
Just like four days ago, when Canaria had departed for the battlefield, she was about to kiss her on the cheek—
"...Today, not on the cheek. On the lips."
The Saintess had just issued a command that could not be executed.
"......Pardon?"
Just in case, she asked again.
Because she desperately wanted to believe she had misheard.
"......On the lips. Kiss me on the lips. That is what I said, yes."
It was a face that seemed embarrassed—uncharacteristically for the Saintess. Yet she was visibly struggling to maintain the smile she had put on, wanting to appear composed.
That sight was so adorable it nearly drove her mad.
A pounding on an entirely different dimension from when Canaria had pressed her ear to her chest began to resound in her heart.
"...Be... between lovers, this... this much—there's no... no way you can't do it."
Stammering, yet still managing to say everything she wanted to say—that was the Saintess.
But Rosaria could not answer.
A silence lingered, almost sorrowfully. And the longer it lingered, the more their cheeks reddened—a sight each of them could see reflected in the other's eyes.
Only the sound of each other's breathing filled that still, heavy silence.
"Th-that is... Saintess... no, Canaria..."
The wrecked Rosaria forcibly churned her thoughts, beginning to search for a way to break through the situation. Her hands, having lost their direction, moved aimlessly this way and that, and her head had grown far too hot to form the next word—
All she could see was Canaria's face, with her eyes closed.
Belatedly—far too belatedly—Rosaria realized that her own lips were warm. And then, the moment she realized it, she felt their breath passing back and forth inside their mouths.
It was warm. And it was sweet.
That eternity-like span of time ended when the Saintess drew her lips away.
"...Next time, Rosaria has to do it."
Canaria smiled, her face deeply flushed.
"......I'll try my best."
She had absolutely no nerve to affirm that statement. It was as she was averting her gaze, too embarrassed even to meet her eyes—
"...And this is punishment for making me pine."
Canaria turned Rosaria's head with her fingers.
And then their lips began to overlap once more.
The more Rosaria squirmed, trying to pull away, the more Canaria held the back of her neck and pulled her close, pressing them tightly together.
But it was clear that Canaria thought that much was insufficient as punishment.
"Nn... nng?!"
A sudden French kiss from Canaria.
Her tongue moved, seeking to explore her love. From that point onward, roughly half of Rosaria's consciousness had likely flown away in rapture.
Canaria's tongue, tracing overflowing love, lewdly violated Rosaria's tongue.
Once again, an eternity-like span of time ended when Canaria drew her lips away.
...This time, unlike before, a transparent thread connected the two of them.
"Of course, Rosaria has to do this one next time, too."
Canaria licked her lips and smiled a bewitching smile.
"......Yes?"
Her head felt tepid.
An ecstatic sweetness that left her unable even to remember the taste of her first kiss swirled throughout the inside of her mouth.
Perhaps it was the fault of that exaltation, having surpassed all limits.
"Uh...?"
A line of crimson blood ran from Rosaria's nose, trickling down over her lips.
The rapture was enough to make her head spin. The pounding had spread beyond her heart to resonate through her entire body, and the being called Rosaria had frozen up under a pleasure so immense that she—the human being herself—could no longer receive it, to the point of forgetting even to breathe.
And yet, Canaria—who had been starving for four days—did not stop.
"And now that I think of it, there was something I forgot to say to Rosaria. Though I'm not sure it will reach you, saying it now."
Canaria kissed the frozen Rosaria on the cheek. And then, into the ear of the completely wrecked Rosaria, she whispered the news she had been unable to deliver.
"...Tonight, I want to sleep together with Rosaria."
Canaria, intending to settle four days' worth of love in a single lump-sum payment. There was no room for any refusal to intervene against that payment authorization.