Saint, You’re So Vulgar!

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#011 Chapter. You Like It When It’s Right

As she had chosen in life up until now, Bershia was a thorough bystander to all this spectacle.

She was merely chasing one visible element after another.

The man’s gaze was filled with myriad emotions.

The most prominent one was sorrow, yet somewhere within it lingered a resolve.

At last, the old man opened his eyes.

“Hmm…”

With a calm breath, I wondered why the old man’s eyelids were so striking.

Also, why did the sight of the man, struggling to hold back tears and forcing a smile, stick in my mind so much?

…I had figured it out.

Bershia’s gaze was still following Asher in this moment.

He was the reason for such a scene.

“Father, are you awake?”

“Ah, Dale. Dale…”

The man took the old man’s hand.

The old man’s wrinkled hand began to grip the man’s hand so tightly, almost burning out the fading ember of life, that the tendons stood out.

Then he fumbled to speak.

“It feels good to breathe… Yes, the Saintess has come?”

“Yes, yes…”

It was clear that the old man’s eyesight wasn’t normal.

Perhaps that was why he was holding on so tightly.

At that moment, Asher stepped back.

He turned his body, smiling gently, and said with his lips.

“Let’s go back now.”

Thus, he exited the house.

Bershia paused for a moment to look at the man and the old man.

“…I’m sorry. Father.”

“Here you go again. It’s alright. It’s okay, Dale.”

Was it the strangeness from Asher’s firmness that was the issue, or was it the unexpected way of solving it?

What usually wouldn’t draw much attention oddly caught the eye today.

She understood too.

What followed would be quite cliché.

Words like “I’m glad you’re not in pain,” the old man’s last words sensing death, and memories of the past before the farewell would come.

There was nothing to see.

Yet, for some reason, her feet wouldn’t move.

“Knight.”

Asher whispered gently.

“…Yes.”

At that point, Bershia shook off her lingering thoughts and left the man’s house.

The sunset was fading.

Asher respectfully clasped his hands and followed the crumbling sunset over the mountain range with his gaze.

It was silent.

Considering his usual chattering, there was an unsettling disparity.

Bershia reached him with large strides.

Asher’s expression was bitter.

The reason soon became clear.

“…You won’t see next year.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, tonight will be the last.”

There wasn’t any other particular purpose.

It was just that seeing that bitterness made her think.

Bershia also turned her gaze toward the sunset and opened her mouth.

“Isn’t it shallow?”

“What do you mean?”

“The design where one can only watch a loved one die.”

Asher halted his steps.

Bershia felt him stop as they both stood still.

The reason for her added words might have been a buildup of frustrations.

“Your parent sealed the end of life with illness. They made countless lives love each other, and in the end, could only part in pain.”

Of course, Bershia had never lost anyone in such a manner.

The heaviness she carried was born from something larger and slightly more complex than that.

It was akin to a sense of futility, and she thought that perhaps Asher could empathize with her feeling of futility.

However, she realized that such a judgment could itself be a form of shallowness.

“I think differently.”

Bershia’s eyes rolled toward him.

He squinted his eyes as if chasing something beyond the sunset and murmured.

“Mercy.”

“What…?”

“Isn’t it mercy?”

Why did it feel so unfamiliar despite being his own body and face?

Only then did Bershia vaguely begin to understand the reason.

“Mercy, you say.”

“Yes, mercy.”

Bershia didn’t know how to smile like that.

*

Asher’s upbringing could hardly be called happy, even in jest.

If a group of vagrants gathered to challenge each other on “who is most unhappy,” he could boldly aim for first place depending on the opponent.

It was especially true when it came to loss.

Asher learned separation before meeting.

This happened when he was still at the height of reaching adulthood.

It was back when his life was tossed around like a leaf in a wave, before he knew Bershia.

The painful memories of that day loomed over his nape, bringing a chilling air with them.

“There are farewells that one cannot even gain a word of.”

Asher felt astringent sensations and spoke.

“An unexpected farewell is painfully deep.”

He was not lecturing her.

It was merely something he sincerely believed… something he had to believe when he said it.

“The Divine has denied eternity on this land. In his stead, countless moments have been layered to create change.”

“Is this a doctrine class?”

“This is an explanation hour. In any case, since the design is thus, problems arise. The moments that make us are drawn on the timeline of time at different positions.”

“……”

“The start of where lives overlap is meeting. The end of it is farewell. We are all inevitably parted. The Divine glues love to that intersection, causing us pain.”

“You seem to be drifting far from mercy.”

It was a strange feeling.

Bershia’s questioning demeanor was distinctly different from her usual self.

It felt as though she was displeased with all these words.

For some reason, her emotional quest for a counterargument was unlike her.

So, Asher had no choice but to respond with a somewhat embarrassed smile.

“Not quite. That’s precisely why it is mercy. I think that the Divine has lowered the end, by name, illness, to ensure that the love we hold doesn’t merely become a wound, but rather serves a purpose.”

“End, you say…”

“He has given us the means to foresee. To understand that we will separate.”

Asher spoke gently.

Now, as he gradually revisited faded and worn memories, he continued.

“No one thinks tomorrow will be their end. So there will be no preparation, and ultimately, in a world without aging and illness, all death would be a terrible tragedy.”

In that perspective, isn’t it fortuitous?

When a life gradually finds its destination and, thus, comes to a halt, it will have the opportunity to look back and see the path it took.

He can smile with pride or regret, recounting how it was like for someone else.

At least, he believed there was illness for that reason.

If there were those who could not even attain that, they were believed to be tested to convey the value of that incompleteness.

That was the narrative of such logic, and the answer returned was as such.

“That’s quite a fallacy.”

It was somewhat a cynical reply.

Asher smiled somewhat embarrassed by that.

“Yes, it’s a fallacy.”

Bershia looked at him in surprise.

Had he acknowledged it too easily?

But what could be done?

He himself was somewhat aware of that issue.

Yet, Asher’s thoughts didn’t change.

“It’s a fallacy, yet so what?”

“Didn’t you call it an explanation?”

“Yes, since it’s an explanation, it doesn’t matter.”

Asher loved sincerity.

He was more fervent about doctrine than anyone and, when he entered the church and learned, the time others spent dozing was a fulfilling time for him.

Thus, he could say it.

“The Divine did not give us answers. He did not prevent us from agonizing and formulating our own answers.”

That was called free will.

Thus, such fallacies were not disbelieving.

“It was my own explanation, and I can live with sincerity believing it. Isn’t that enough?”

A slightly shameful afterthought was finally swallowed.

To reach such an answer, he had you.

The signposts directing the steps he took were your goodwill.

Blending the act of remembering on his own into something beautifully wrapped up was not easy for Asher.

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Bershia remained silent, merely walking.

She seemed lost in deep thought.

By the time the sunset had completely set and dusk had fallen, she still hadn’t spoken.

Asher worried he might have preached for nothing, so he spoke carefully, and at some point, a response came back.

Bershia chuckled.

“…You’re amazing. To think like that positively.”

“Yes?”

The sulky look on Bershia’s face had disappeared.

Now, she had returned to her usual languid expression.

A languidness laced with a touch of playfulness.

“It seems the Divine is trying to make you a female knight, and it fits perfectly….”

“That’s enough with that!”

“You like it when it’s right. I’ll remember that….”

“Stop it!”

As he shouted with a squeaky voice, Bershia burst into laughter, teasingly quickening her steps.

Why does it always lead to this conclusion?

Asher felt fed up with that damned tendency and this time truly preached.

“Can’t we at least have one day with a nice atmosphere? We were just talking about faith a moment ago! Just for once, please be serious! The Saintess lacks self-awareness as a saintess!”

“Right now, I’m a knight, not a saintess.”

“A knight must have faith as well!”

“Ex, Marvin didn’t seem to think so.”

“Marvin, he…!”

“Yesterday Marvin said. It seems the hips are….”

“Ugh! Don’t hang out with Marvin! Unwholesome friendships are forbidden!!!”

“He’s a friend of the knight.”

“……!!!”

In any case, there was no peaceful day.

*

Two days passed.

There were plenty of incidents during the inspection… so the medical service also finished.

Now it was time to collect the reward.

The notion of selfless good with a purpose still poked at Asher’s conscience, but since it was for Bershia, let’s set that aside for now.

Asher received his special allowance and stepped out onto the street.

And he suffered.

“Knight, shall we go over there?”

“Ah, the bookstore?”

“Marvin says there are erotic novels there….”

“Why would you say that? Seriously…!”

From the start, it wasn’t easy.

Asher felt like crying.