The Saintess's love is so heavy it's scary 12

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It had to be a hallucination.

It's not uncommon for anxiety to inflate and turn small noises into delusions.

It was the same way that the timid might mistake the occasional drip of a faucet for the sound of someone's footsteps.

In fact, the fact that the saintess's tiny lips were not even moving, and that the words that pierced my heart carried an eerie aura that was too eerie to have come from the mouth of a living being, lent credence to the aforementioned hypothesis.

''Saintess----?''

I tried to study Saintess's expression, but my attempt was thwarted by her quick thinking as she buried her face in the crook of my neck.

And right after that.

A snap.

''Ugh!''

I bit my collarbone.

The muscles in her face stiffened, as if she had been injected with a lethal dose of poison. It was because her body, not her head, remembered that this was what Saintess did when she was angry.

Suddenly, I had a vision.

I remembered the moment I was stabbed for the first time in my life.

How many times had I tried to put out of my mind the horrible sensation of the metal, which had been ice-cold when it entered my flesh and bone, becoming unbearably hot, as if someone had been quenching it, and then the next moment, as if all my internal organs were being sucked into the heat source.

How many times have I tried to erase from my mind the horrible sensation of my body's innards being sucked out by a heat source, followed by the sensation of my toes, then my knees, then my hips, then my lower back, and finally the tempting drowsiness that makes my eyeballs grow heavy in the midst of the turbulence.

Ah, I'll never live this down.

I had nothing but such a feeble sentiment.

The feeling was eerily similar, only the force was different.

The saintess's white teeth, pressing into my flesh and trying to reach my skeleton, were digging up every last bit of the terrible nightmare buried deep within me.

''Lie----. You lie----.''

The words pierced my heart.

It wasn't a hallucination, but it wasn't a voice either.

It was a wave. Without sound, only its meaning was directly conveyed, a jumbled echo that reverberated in my head without ceasing.

''I hate lying. Lying is bad. Don't go. Stay here. Stay with me. Stay with me.''

I could barely make out the meaning of any of the words, as they were one after the other, one after the other.

''I'm not lying! No, saintess, I really---- ugh!''

I won't listen to lame excuses.

The white electric current that crawled up my fingertips and toes, from the apex of my body to my heart in the blink of an eye, seemed to be telling me so.

I had experienced this sensation before, as if the process of cooling and boiling all the blood in my body were being repeated over and over again.

A saintess's favor.

A power so great that it was said to have been entrusted to only a handful of faithful girls, and the presumed source of the means the Saintess used to bring Priest Ranovel to such a state.

I shuddered with dread as the uneasy suspicion that had been like a dense fog seemed to take shape.

The saintess----. ''No way----.

''I can't go----.''

The ugly grimace of the Ranovel priest came to mind.

''A human who has lost his soul. The image of him, a puppet who couldn't even walk on his own without someone hanging a string to lead him, accelerated my thoughts in a bad way.

And then I had to let it go.

I realized that the behavior of the child I had seen once, who was begging his parents to buy him a toy, was very similar to that of the saintess now.

''For life----. I'm here for life----.''

Disheveled words that seemed to come from distorted emotions.

It was only after hearing those words that I realized that I had lost all feeling from the waist down.

''Black!''

A whimper.

My legs gave out, and I slumped to the ground.

Still, the saintess's entire body was pressed against mine.

A sinister heat radiated through the flesh between us. The dizzying scent of her body against my nostrils. The way my ragged breath traced the texture of his hair and the way his thin eyelashes fluttered.

My pathetic self-consciousness, even in the midst of a life-or-death situation, was unable to see past all of them.

For she was beautiful, noble, and holy.

I almost wish I had been stabbed, because at least I could have knocked the ugly metal out, pulled it out, or broken it.

So far so good.

Even the handful of longings I had left, perhaps the last of them, for some semblance of control over my fading consciousness, were slowly fading away like a lantern before the wind.

"Father!

A familiar voice echoed in my mind, and suddenly a simple assumption flashed through my mind: what would 'she' have done in this situation?

She was always overly positive, outspoken, and impatient with injustice.

If she had two letters, "justice" and "righteousness," walking around in her clothes.

If she had been faced with insurmountable hardships and adversity, would she have been as pathetic and unworthy as I am now, dropping everything to take it easy?

I took a deep breath.

Suddenly, a smile leaked out.

Even as I said it, I realized that I had said something so absurd.

It can't be, it can't be, can it?

Even if the sky were to fall in two, even if the entire world were to be engulfed in pitch blackness, she, and only she, would never give up the foolish act of walking in the light.

''Welna----. Let go of me----.''

''I hate ----.''

I chewed on the inside of my mouth to force the fading consciousness to awaken.

A choice that my normal self would never have made, considering it arduous and ugly, a so-called last resort.

It wasn't because I had any regrets, and it certainly wasn't because I had a sudden burst of strength and courage from some unknown source in the face of a crisis, like so many of my fictional protagonists.

It was simply an impulsive act, borne out of a genuine longing to emulate the majesty she had shown me from time to time.

''My brother told me to let go----.''

''Poetry, I hate----.''

''Let go when he says something nice.''

''Uh, uh, uh----?''

Me. Reyes Lowville. 29 years old.

For the first time in my life, I'm going to punish a child.

◈◈◈◈

In a small town with idyllic scenery everywhere you look, there are few sights that excite a child's heart more than a hero's procession and the cheers that follow.

The tinkling of trumpets and the fluttering of colorful petals like falling snow bring color and life to shady, ashen streets, and the heat of the morning sun to hearts that might otherwise be chilled.

Even the small townsfolk, struggling to make ends meet, can't help but rebuke the impetuousness of the children, who, for this moment, abandon their chores to run out to watch the procession.

However, the intensified cheering and enthusiasm can sometimes lead to unexpected outbursts of anger.

''Kaaaak!''

A roar and a scream cut through the crowd's chants of exasperation.

A carriage with one wheel derailed and broke in half. Cowering in the immediate line of fire was a little girl who looked to be just starting to walk. Even at a cursory glance, it was easy to see that the carriage was the result of the driver trying to avoid the sudden appearance of the child.

''You rotten child!''

The faces of the audience, including one of the soldiers leading the procession, suddenly turned pale. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say they turned pale.

The soldier raised his blade at the child, who was scurrying away like a rabbit from the sight of a beast.

It was a pitiful sight that any human being with warm blood in their veins could not help but feel compassion for the child, but no one in the room could muster the courage to stand by the poor child in distress.

''It's bad enough that you disturbed the holy parade of the warrior, but you dare to harm the carriage carrying the statue of the warrior, such an ugly crime, you must be prepared to pay for it with your life!''

''Hmph, hmph!''

As the soldier's voice grew louder, the child's expression grew darker and darker, as if he had been washed away by a pale ink.

For a child who was not yet capable of thinking, she could only sense a vague uneasiness that something was going wrong.

She instinctively cowered in fear as the needles pierced her skin, but such a feeble response was no match for the giant blade, a tragic fact realized by everyone in the room except the child herself.

''Mia!''

It was then. A girl, presumably Ai's sister, blocked the soldier's path.

''Sin, I'm sorry, soldier, my sister's offense, I apologize from the bottom of my heart, I'll work my whole life to pay back the damage I've done to my family, please, please, please have mercy!''

Shabbily dressed and with a ghastly face. The soldier, who had guessed the boy's poverty from the way he prostrated himself on the ground without even a hint of hesitation, raised his voice again, as if he had nothing to hide.

''Ha! You're going to spend your whole life repaying me? Yes, if it was just the carriage that was broken, that might be enough, but the statue that your little sister vandalized was a specially crafted item made by the royal family to honor the great deeds of a warrior, and it's impossible for a commoner like you to even make a toe's worth of reparations, let alone a lifetime!''

''Kkkkkk, sin, sorry---- sorry, sorry, sorry!''

The boy's desperate words of apology only increased the soldier's anger.

The plea of one who knows nothing, who has nothing, is worthless.

Still, the boy could only repeat himself.

Maybe he could be forgiven. Maybe someone would reach out to him.

There was nothing he could do to protect his only sister except to cling to that vague hope that he knew he had, and so he repeated his ugly prayers over and over again, prayers that no one listened to.

''All of this-all of it-all of it-is my fault for neglecting the care of my flesh and blood, and I will atone with my life for the sins that have tarnished your reputation, so please, at least for my sister!''

''Hush! How dare you try to give me an opinion on a commoner's subject!''

As if to brush aside the boy's plea, the soldier raised his sword in the air.

''Execution!''

''Ugh!''

The sound of someone's valorous, beautiful cheer rang in the boy's ears, as his eyes were shut tightly, blocking out any visual information.

''The warrior punch-!!!''

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