Saint, You’re So Vulgar!

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#019: Sorry for Stealing?

Dawn broke.

Sunlight poured in through the window.

Bershia slowly opened her eyes, slightly furrowing her brows.

An unfamiliar ceiling… Well, it actually looked quite familiar by now.

She relaxed her hands that were neatly placed on her stomach and sat up.

Despite the lack of decorations, the warm aura of the room welcomed her.

Inside the Knights’ Order Barracks, it was Asher’s room.

Habitually, she scanned the layout of the room.

A corner filled with various doctrine books and knight literature on the bookshelf.

Next to it, a table was neatly arranged with writing utensils.

A large mirror beside the wardrobe, and the bed she had just been lying on.

Ah, so everything that happened wasn’t just a dream.

Thinking this, she got out of bed.

The sensation of some stiffness in her lower back had also become familiar.

She let out a small laugh, adjusted her trousers, and opened the window.

The fresh morning air revitalized her lungs.

As she stretched, her muscles screamed, waking her up completely.

Asher’s body was amazing.

It was filled with a vitality that Bershia had never experienced in her life.

Of course, she didn’t feel particularly thrilled about it.

The thought that all of this was likely a prank orchestrated by someone… possibly a higher power diminished any good feelings that had emerged.

Bershia entered the bathroom to wash up.

It was fortunate that Asher was a first-class knight.

If it weren’t a single room, she would feel very uncomfortable sharing a space with a stranger.

The silly thoughts disappeared quickly.

Had he not become a first-class knight and thus created any connection with her, this body-switching incident would never have occurred.

After finishing her bath, she got dressed.

Asher’s clothes were generally neat, though somewhat restrictive.

Selecting the most baggy outfit, she suddenly furrowed her brows.

‘Ah.’

Today was training day.

With a deep sigh, she changed into her training outfit.

It was a busy morning for Bershia as she fussed about scolding Asher for being lazy.

*

Bershia’s world was achromatic.

She didn’t suffer from color blindness, but her feelings toward the things she observed were relentlessly dry.

It was meaningless to ponder when it had become like this.

She didn’t want to invest her energy into such thoughts anymore.

She lived because she didn’t die.

To be precise, she lived because she hadn’t been granted death.

It was someone’s cruel game, someone who loved her far too much.

Describing such a life as a journey, one might say it was like wandering off the path with no destination.

If she were to discover a cliff to jump off, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.

She idly mused such thoughts while fixedly staring at Commander Weill up on the platform.

It was the roll call before training.

“It’s a time teeming with heretics! I believe that during such times, we must strengthen our bodies even more as the sword of the divine! Everyone, pay attention!”

“Yes!!!”

“We will begin training!!!”

It was the moment when the witch’s rampage was confirmed.

The intensity of the training became unbearably harsh compared to before.

Bershia dripped with sweat, breathlessly exhaling.

How long was this running going to last? Each time her breath quickened, resentment toward Asher bubbled up.

Then, suddenly, Bershia let out a chuckle.

The reason was the image of his face, flustered and helpless, when she would complain about the struggles of training today.

Though finding pleasure in sadism wasn’t healthy… What of it?

Bershia had no intention of being a pious and healthy person.

She didn’t feel the need to either.

For a moment, hoping that this morning’s routine would end soon, the running finally concluded and it was time for a break.

Bershia wiped the sweat from her forehead with her shirt.

With her acute hearing, she caught the faint sighs of the female priests coming from a distance.

Was it inappropriate to so readily show off one’s body?

‘So what.’

She had a fine physique, so why not boast a little?

It was just returning the favor.

Thud—Marvin, who had been running alongside her, flopped to the ground.

“Gah…!”

“Good job.”

“Uaaah…!”

With curled brown hair, a face that couldn’t be described as handsome even jokingly, and a robust build.

Surprisingly, he was Asher’s age and his close friend.

At least, that was Bershia’s personal evaluation.

How could someone be friends with Asher and be so lackluster at the same time?

Marvin was not a particularly enthusiastic person when it came to training.

He wasn’t especially pious either; he became a knight simply because it was a livable profession.

You’d think that being around someone as rigid as Asher would influence his behavior a bit, right?

She thought, and soon Bershia reflected inwardly to find the answer.

Thinking more on it, Asher was not the kind of person she aspired to emulate.

It was way more fun to dye things in her own color.

Again, she couldn’t help but think about Asher.

Well, didn’t she somewhat take his place in their relationships?

Anyway, back to Marvin’s story.

Excluding his lack of enthusiasm, he was quite a likable person to Bershia.

“What’s the divine up to… not catching any heretics…!”

Muttering curses about the divine.

The original Asher might have scolded such words, but Bershia had no intention of doing so.

“He must have his reasons.”

“Here comes that guy’s theory again.”

“I won’t do it.”

“Do you think I don’t know you?”

Not a chance.

Bershia smiled at Marvin’s visibly exasperated expression.

She then sat herself down on the ground.

What followed was a chatting session.

Marvin’s topics were consistently the same.

Talking about playing, girls, and the gazes of the female priests.

“Why do you seem to be getting more and more popular? Did news spread or something?”

“Is that so?”

“No, I’m serious! They used to avoid you because of your sweat smell, but now they swarm like bees the moment you show up!”

“That’s just delusion.”

Bershia smiled cheekily.

Marvin let out a chuckle.

Then, shaking his head, he spoke with pride.

“That guy, suddenly becoming a man…!”

He was a simple-minded fellow.

Right? If a close friend suddenly changed overnight, one would generally be suspicious, but not Marvin.

Bershia recalled their first encounter after her body switch.

She had told him, with some worry in her demeanor, “The Saintess is too innocent, and if I don’t become reliable, I’ll have to change.” He had immediately embraced her with a touched expression.

She had a memory of the unpleasant scent of sweat and the smell of a bum.

Since then, it had been the same.

Now, Marvin looked at Bershia with a blend of admiration.

“Can you introduce just one from over there…?”

“Do you think that’s possible?”

“No, actually, there’s someone I’ve been infatuated with…”

“How many girls are you infatuated with?”

She scolded him in an Asher-like way.

Of course, her unique elegance came through in her gentle tone, which gave it a tinge of intimidation.

Marvin pouted and shrugged.

“Yeah, what do you know about being devoted? You don’t even know how to appreciate life.”

Bershia’s fingertips trembled.

Another thought about Asher popped into her mind.

What could be an advantage of keeping Marvin close?

Perhaps it was the times when she could hear about how Asher used to be back in the day.

-So that guy keeps calling her the Saintess and wound up coming this far.

-So, how is it? Seeing her up close, is she even prettier?

-Hah, but congratulations! I remember they said anyone who stands next to the Saintess has to be pure of heart and can’t even touch themselves… Ah, don’t glare like that. I’m sorry…!

It seemed his journey started after he brushed past her during inspections.

Unfortunately, Bershia couldn’t recall any of this.

Because there were just too many tasks that involved wearing a mask, and the goodwill she expressed was pathetically shallow based on her standards.

“Attention!!! We will resume training!!!”

In the midst of it all, Commander Weill shouted.

Bershia quickly stood up.

Marvin groaned as he also got to his feet.

“Dear God, could you at least give us some witches! The intensity of training!”

While it did seem genuine, who knows?

“Isn’t it just something you’re supposed to handle?”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be a merciful deity?”

“There’s such a thing as selective mercy, you know.”

That’s how it was for Bershia.

The creator of this land was far from the just and great king for everyone.

He had built a massive model garden and placed one doll of his liking while voyeuristically observing, a disgusting existence.

Within that, the feelings of the doll didn’t matter.

So, wouldn’t such terrible favoritism exist?

The frustration that had always shadowed her, choking her, pressed in again.

It was a feeling so familiar that she didn’t even think to brush it off anymore.

She picked up a wooden sword.

She might as well at least pretend to wield a weapon.

When her heart raced, her mind wouldn’t wander.

Pain would sweep away the gloom.

“One!”

She swung the wooden sword.

Sweat poured down.

The training finished just past noon.

Bershia returned to the barracks to wash herself.

Even amidst it all, the astringency wasn’t fading.

Her throat still felt stifled and sleepy.

It didn’t seem like it was this bad before.

Absently thinking this, she finished her bath.

This time, she wore the planned baggy clothes, and in that moment, her movement became hasty.

She was unaware of it.

She left the room.

Bumped into Marvin.

“Oh, are you heading to lunch?”

“…Ah, yeah.”

If she headed straight to the garden, that guy would probably make her work without even feeding her.

Moreover, she would also get scolded by Asher.

He would say something about needing plenty of nutrition after exercising, all of that.

She could memorize it even with her eyes closed by now.

As she made her way to the dining hall, her mood was deteriorating again.

The squeezing sensation in her throat, and the astringent taste was becoming stronger.

And then, in that moment—

“Sir… Knight!”

A bright and clear voice rang out.

Bershia’s feet came to an abrupt halt.

She turned her head.

At that moment, a relief washed over her.

“You were there…!”

With light sky-blue hair and bright blue eyes, her clarity was refreshing.

Trying to smile widely, but realizing she needed to compose herself made her demeanor all the more fresh.

Asher froze.

Realizing who he was with.

Comfort enveloped her.

It felt as if something submerged deep inside was awakening.

Bershia smiled brightly.

She didn’t even understand this reaction she had.

Thud—

She placed her hand on Marvin’s shoulder.

“Ah, Saintess. I was just on my way to have a meal with this friend. Would you care to join us?”

“Ch-, Charmed! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Saintess!”

Marvin gave a proper salute.

He then shot a grin at her.

He elbowed her in the ribs playfully and whispered.

“Wow, you came all this way looking for her? This guy…!”

If it had been any other time, she would have been annoyed, but this felt joyful.

Of course.

Such a friendly attitude would elicit a response from that person as well.

Thud—

Asher dropped the water bottle he was holding.

His eyes were swirling with complex emotions.

What was that emotional haze? Loss, perhaps?

“Th-this is the first time… we meet…”

Asher stammered.

It was clear he was trying to conceal the awkwardness within.

The sheer absurdity made Bershia feel a wave of air rush within her.

“Will you join us, Saintess? Just the three of us with ‘my friend.’”

“Oh my, is it really alright for me to come?”

It felt lively.

Some colors were finally blending into the achromatic world.

A very light sky-blue, still indistinguishable from gray.

*

Asher felt as if there was a hole in his chest.

The emotion deepened as he watched Bershia and Marvin, who were casually linked in a friendly manner.

Marvin boisterously praised Bershia.

Saying how she’d become manly, or how she fit the image of a knight suited for the Saintess.

Bershia humbly smiled.

It was obvious they were close friends.

It was a pleasant friendship.

Only Asher could not view that friendship with a smile.

‘Ah, that’s right.’

Memories were fading.

The bond they had built was now Bershia’s.

She looked at Asher.

Her gaze softened.

In that moment, Marvin leaned in close so he could whisper without being heard.

“Sorry for stealing her? But you still have me, you know?”

The nonchalant attitude sparked something in Asher, filling him with emotion.