Chapter 14
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: The Saintess's Brand
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The heavy door of the prayer room closed shut, and the silence that returned pressed down on me far heavier than the commotion from moments before.
Saintess Elysia's eyes looked as if they might shatter at any moment.
She held my hand for a long while, hesitating, before biting her lip as if she'd made up her mind.
She slowly turned her back to me.
Her silver hair caught the sunlight, scattering brilliantly as it cascaded over her shoulders.
Saintess Elysia silently brought her slender fingers to her collar.
Then, carefully but without hesitation, she began to lower her clothes.
The white saintess robes slid softly down her shoulders, exposing her smooth, pale back to the air.
"S-Saintess?!"
I reflexively stumbled back in panic.
The moment her dazzlingly white skin and the prominent line of her wing bones entered my vision, a dizzying vertigo hit me.
"Saintess! In a serious situation like this, what in the world...!"
As I cried out in shock, she replied softly without turning around.
"Hah, you were groping my legs just fine earlier. Now you're acting all proper?"
Her voice carried her usual languid mockery, but she couldn't hide the faint tremble at the tips of her shoulders.
"Th-that was for Your Grace's dignity! I never wanted anything like this!"
I desperately shouted, suppressing my pounding heart. But my gaze wandered lost in the air, and the sensation of her hot, soft skin from earlier seemed to revive in my palms, driving me mad.
"You think I'd joke around even in a situation like this?"
She asked again. Between the silver strands falling over her shoulders, her nape gleamed as pale as porcelain. Recalling her usual behavior, I answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Yes."
"...Not right now."
She fell silent as if at a loss for words, then added as if wronged.
"Then... do you have some exhibitionist tendencies? Why show your back to me of all people!"
"No! I'm embarrassed too!"
Saintess Elysia suddenly shouted and bowed her head deeply. Her ears, peeking over her shoulders, were flushed red like ripe strawberries. Clutching the slipping robes with one arm, she huddled in shame.
"Then why...?"
She didn't answer my question for a long time. The prayer room filled only with the sweet scent of Moonlit Herb and our ragged breaths.
Then she began to move.
The fragile figure that had trembled in shame on the sofa corner just moments ago was gone.
Clutching her saintess robes desperately from the shoulders down with one arm, Saintess Elysia slowly closed the distance toward me, one step at a time. The sound of her bare feet pressing against the marble floor rang unusually loud.
"S-Saintess? Wait, why all of a sudden...!"
I stumbled back in panic once more.
Her eyes were darker than the violet smoke of the Moonlit Herb, swirling with an inexpressible longing and excruciating pain.
One step. As she advanced, I retreated one. Another step. Each time her slender toes came perilously close in my vision, my heart leaped to my throat, ready to explode.
The room held only our tangled breaths and the chilling friction of fabric brushing the floor. Behind the faint lily scent lurked her unique, dense, sweet aroma, mercilessly invading my lungs.
"Saintess, please calm down! As your priest, I can't...!"
"Shut up, Ian."
Her low voice cut me off. It was both a command and a plea. Overwhelmed by her intensity, I backed away until my back hit the cold marble wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.
Saintess Elysia stopped right before my nose. Her ragged breath touched my nape, heating the air. Between the white fabric barely held by her slender fingers, her porcelain-pale skin and the dizzying line of her collarbone were brazenly exposed.
I squeezed my eyes shut. But even through my closed lids, her heat reached me. A shiver ran down my spine.
"...See for yourself. I don't want to explain it with words."
Her trembling voice tickled my ear.
She slowly, very slowly, turned her back to me fully.
The hand clutching her shoulder relaxed, and the white saintess robes fell limply to the floor. Her silver hair undulated like waves down her back, revealing the 'hell' hidden beneath in full to my eyes.
Beneath her white wing bones, near where her heart lay, a grotesque violet emblem burned vividly into her back. It was less a holy crest and more a torturous curse burrowing into her flesh. The veins around it throbbed blackish-red, and the surrounding skin looked festering from the heat.
"What... is this?"
I unwittingly reached out, then froze.
"The Saintess's Brand. The vessel that holds the poison called divine power."
She let out a self-mocking laugh.
"Every time the mana rampages and burns this brand, it feels like my back is being slashed with knives. Without alcohol or Moonlit Herb, I can't stay sane even for a minute or a second."
Her words made my chest ache. The 'beautiful sacrifices' described in the novel were such abject torture for her in reality. Her fingertips trembled faintly on her knees as she tried to endure the pain.
"When you grabbed my leg earlier... this brand's vibrations strangely stopped."
She glanced back at me slightly. Her violet eyes shook, soaked in shame and pain.
"I know. How insane this situation is—making you touch my leg, now showing you my back. I'm dying of embarrassment too."
She turned her head away again, hiding her face.
"But... if I don't do this, it feels like I'll die."
Instead of replying, I cautiously placed my hand on her back.
"...!"
Her body jerked as if touched by electricity. Her skin felt softer than silk against my palm, but the heat beneath sent chills racing down my spine.
"Saintess."
I gripped her fleeing shoulder with one hand and gently cupped the violet brand with the other.
"You told me to wake up? Sorry, but I've already staked my life on this dream."
The bizarre heat emanating from the brand neutralized gradually through my palm. Her distorted breathing steadied bit by bit.
Was it relief? Or the dizzying thrill of touching forbidden sacred flesh? I didn't stop, carefully tracing the white skin around the brand with my fingertips.
"Hah...! Wh-what are you doing?!"
A short, slender moan escaped Saintess Elysia's lips. She flinched in shock but couldn't push my hand away. Her smooth back trembled finely under my fingers trailing her spine.
"Trying to calm it. This spot's too hot."
"That doesn't mean you can just... Hah, you've been like this since earlier...!"
She tried to glare back at me, but her face, flushed with shame, held none of its usual sharp edge.
Her porcelain cheeks now burned a vivid red like ripe strawberries.
The heat spread from her ears down her slender nape, and ashamed, she buried her face in both hands again.
Her red ears peeking through disheveled silver hair trembled like a lost baby animal—tormentingly beautiful, stirring protective instincts with their cuteness.
That was when it happened.
As I felt her irregular heartbeat surging through my palm, Saintess Elysia's lips moved ever so slightly.
"...... ...... ......"
A faint mumble, melting into the Moonlit Herb smoke.
"Pardon? Saintess, what did you say?"
I leaned closer to catch her voice. But instead of answering, she shuddered her shoulders harder, arching her back into my palm.
"You said to take responsibility. Never take those words back."
I rested my forehead on her back. The vivid touch without even thin fabric and her sweet Moonlit Herb scent swirled dizzyingly, numbing my reason, but I was more serious than ever.
"Whether you become a monster or fall, it doesn't matter. As long as I'm the only priest by your side."
Silence returned to the room. But unlike the earlier weary quiet, it was taut like a drawn string, filled with tension where we could almost hear each other's heartbeats.
Saintess Elysia, huddled with her back exposed, said nothing for a long while. But the fact her fingertips no longer trembled proved the secret salvation we'd shared.
"...You're such a con artist priest."
She mumbled, face buried. Her resentful tone mixed with the tiniest thrill and relief. Instead of replying, I gently straightened the silver hair spilling over her shoulders, ready to tear out the original story's pages entirely.
"God, today you've lost this child to me. Her prayers will now be directed to me, not you. No matter what, I won't let you take her from me."