“Sleep with me once and I’ll pretend I never saw anything.”

He continued triumphantly.

“As you know, a saint must maintain lifelong purity. But you ruined that, and you also forgot the temple’s work regulations and fooled around with a man. What do you think will happen if I report this to the higher-ups? That impressive prince will probably be stripped of his saint status, and you’ll be kicked down the mountain.”

“…”

She knew he was a filthy man, but she never expected him to make such a proposal. Lev momentarily lost her words at the shock hammering sharply into her brain.

“Brother. You’re mistaken about something. I shared my body with the saint out of love. Not for l*st alone like you—a man so disgusting I’m revolted to even call you brother.”

So there’s not the slightest chance I’d sleep with something like you. Understand?

When Lev said that, he visibly began breathing heavily. Even so, Lev didn’t stop.

“The person who should be screaming about losing their purity isn’t me—it’s you, Raoul.”

“You filthy wh*re!”

His final words made Lev realize he was no longer here in the position of a believer. So there was nothing more to feel guilty about, nothing to hesitate over.

Lev kicked toward the groin of the man approaching to grab her hair.

It happened in an instant.

“Ugh…!”

At the unexpected impact, he immediately rolled on the dirt ground. He couldn’t regain his senses, seemingly dominated by sharp pain in his lower body.

Lev was surprised at the strength she’d displayed in an instant, but didn’t show it on her face. This was probably the minimum outrage from enduring his vulgar behavior for years.

Her red lips spoke calmly.

“You think a rag is dirty. But at least it cleans others while dirtying itself. You’re worse than that.”

Raoul clutched his lower belly and spewed curses. It was behavior befitting someone who used their weighty position and faith for petty superiority.

Ridiculously, he still couldn’t get up. Whether her haphazard strike had hit quite squarely, his face turned bright red like it would burst as he rolled left and right.

“Looks like it hurts a lot. Must be because men are so sinful.”

With those final words, Lev turned around. Then she walked through the plateau without hesitation.

Returning the words he usually said felt refreshing. It was sufficient language to make someone who disregarded and ignored others’ physical pain feel empathy.

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t afraid. He was clearly a full priest of Demaret, and whatever his intentions for coming here, he would be recognized as a rightful servant of God more than anyone.

She knew he would do anything to harm her, but she couldn’t keep losing anymore. Staying silent was only lubrication letting him run wild without brakes.

Wind blowing from the distant golden wheat fields cooled her forehead. Lev thought as she cut through the plateau air.

She’d reported Raoul’s behavior to the higher-ups several times until now. Yet they protected the priest, saying they just needed to eliminate the lewdness inside her. 

Since he’d already succeeded in ordination, expelling him would mean dishonor for the temple, and could lead to problems with the priest family from his hometown who’d recommended Raoul.

Naturally, the higher-ups chose to expel the shabby female servant. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t expulsion. They’d placated her well and exploited her as much as they could.

Lev also knew their true intentions, but had endured with the single-minded determination that she was serving not people, but the Holy Spirit. 

She didn’t want to abandon her life’s home and occupation because of one evil person. But the more this repeated, the more her heart burned with doubt.

Even after arriving in her room, endless thoughts tormented her.

‘Have you ever thought about life below the mountain range?’

‘How about going down there with me and looking around the world?’

Solaith’s warm voice kept overlapping in her ears. She recalled the sight of his eyelashes, beautiful like angel wings, lowering toward her, with sunlight brilliantly shattering above them.

The more the outside world came to mind, the more she thought of the man beckoning to her within it, the more fiercely her heart pounded. Lev could only fall asleep after pressing the scripture that guided bedside prayers against her chest.

The next day.

The High Mass, the biggest mass of the Sabbath, ended. Solaith tried to move toward his office as soon as the ceremony finished. It was because he wanted to see someone he always missed even when close.

But someone stopped him in the middle of the wide corridor.

“Almighty St. Yusdainut, Your Holiness, I have something to say—would you grant me time?”

It was a priest neatly dressed in a black cassock. He’d seen him coming and going, and had prepared ceremonies together.

“Of course. How about that room over there?”

Solaith smiled kindly and pointed to a nearby wine-making room. That place where nuns made mass wine was a space full of bitter alcohol smell and fermented grape fragrance.

The priest quietly closed the door as soon as the saint entered the room.

The stone-walled room firmly preserved its cool temperature, with only a small window letting in faint sunlight. Most importantly, it was well-sealed so sound didn’t leak outside easily.

Raoul opened his mouth, clearly troubled, and spoke to Solaith.

“I have something I must tell Your Holiness, but it’s a part that could be very presumptuous, so I’m cautious… That’s why I’m speaking after deep consideration.”

“What on earth is it?”

The golden-haired saint asked the man with thoughtful eyes. Then Raoul began, seemingly gaining momentum.

“Well, forgive me, but there are unseemly rumors circulating about Your Holiness and the chapel manager. Of course, Your Holiness is also a young man and all choices are sacred… but I’m concerned you might fall for impure temptation, so I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

Solaith showed an expressionless face, gesturing for him to continue.

“It’s about a woman named Lev. Recently, reports came in that she’s conspiring with other nuns to manipulate Your Holiness.”

Raoul, speaking in the most casual voice possible, spurred on his vocal cords when the saint seemed to focus on his words.

“You may not know, but she’s been a secret troublemaker here since becoming an adult. She fooled around with various priests, and recently they say she smears fish blood to pretend she’s a virgin. The determination to seduce royalty for social advancement is rampant among the female servants. Though it’s women’s gossip, it’s reliable information you can trust.”

“…Is what you just said true?”

“Yes, Your Holiness. A woman with a lewd body seems to be disgracing the innocent Your Holiness, so I’m risking everything to stop it.”

Solaith showed concern with a face beautiful to the point of being unpleasant. At a glance, he seemed quite disappointed, or perhaps troubled over what to do about the woman he admired.

“…From which women did you hear such rumors?”

Solaith asked with an innocent face, grasping at straws.

“I cannot reveal that to maintain trust with them… but if you expel Lev down the mountain, I’ll share it with you.”

“These people—they don’t happen to have a hideous lump hanging below, do they?”

“What?”

When Raoul narrowed his brow at the incomprehensible words, the saint repeated with a smile.

“I’m asking if it’s someone with a face full of pus, rotten fat stuffed under their skin, and one greedy leg hanging in the middle.”

“What? What on earth do you mean…?”

“…Good grief. I can’t stand this anymore. I’m asking if you’re the one who wagged your tongue.”

Solaith’s face, voice lowered, had completely lost its smile.

“Deception should have limits. Weren’t you the one who’s been harassing and tormenting Lev? What safe haven do you think this is, coming here to spout b*llshit?”

“Wh-what…”

Raoul couldn’t make any expression facing that murderous face. This wasn’t the young, naive saint he’d seen until now. Beneath the discarded mask was the figure of an authority whose presence had risen as much as his grown physique.

Solaith approached the priest step by step. Raoul stepped back into the large shadow. Then his foot caught on a basin behind him and he fell.

Splash. He felt crushed grape berries beneath his b*ttocks. Massive chills ran through his lower body, like he’d collapsed onto a wild beast’s corpse.

“Do I look like a saint to you? I’m fundamentally Yusdainut blood. Not a holy king, not a holy king aspirant… and certainly not a saint. Just a member of a family that seized the throne with blood.”

He looked down at Raoul with an emotionless expression, seemingly reminding him how the imperial family had mercilessly purged traitors and rebels until now.

The alcohol smell entering his nostrils was particularly fishy today. When Raoul’s lower jaw went slack, the saint crouched before him. Then he gazed at the man with a languid expression.

“The reason I’m not k*lling you right now is because Lev likes me clean. Sister likes my good side, my saint-like and cute side. But I can’t coat these hands with something filthy.”

A cunning smile appeared in his pretty eyes.

Though called the Guardian War, war was war. Having distinguished himself in the middle of sword winds dancing with the smell of blood, he had the clear bearing of a general. 

Up close, there were numerous deep scars on the inside of his sleeves, neck, and arms. Absurdly, why was he only seeing such things now?

Solaith brought a bottle of wine from beside him and poured it into the basin where Raoul had fallen.

Glug glug glug. 

The liquid flowing freely from the bottle’s mouth struck the priest and the substances below him, splashing wildly even onto his white vestments. A scene of blood everywhere was created.

“I’m treating you. Think carefully while drinking some wine. How about transferring elsewhere… I’d like this to remain only wine forever.”

He kept his eyes lowered and didn’t withdraw his arm until the last few drops fell on the crown of Raoul’s head. Then when the bottle showed its bottom, he patted Raoul’s shoulder encouragingly.

Along with the final words: I’m counting on you.

Thud.

When the wine room’s stone door closed, Raoul barely regained his senses. Then he ground his teeth, reproaching his foolishness for underestimating that saint b*stard. What sparked from his eyes like electricity once again refracted toward somewhere else without fail.