Saint, You’re So Vulgar!

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#020 Chapter: Saying “No” with the Mouth While Being Wet Below

What governs humans, instinct or will?

In response to that question, Asher could firmly say, “Will.”

Yet, that doesn’t mean he underestimated the power of instinct.

Of course, when you’re hungry, your strength wanes, and when you’re sick, your spirit weakens—aren’t those just human traits?

There are moments when emotions are swayed by the body’s actions, helplessly so.

Such was the case after his body had changed.

Bershia’s body was weaker than Asher’s.

It bruised easily, got hurt easily, and was sensitive to even minor stimuli.

The emotional side was the same.

What he would’ve brushed off before was now difficult to let slide due to the “body’s response (important).”

A prime example was menstruation; at that time, Asher definitely felt uncomfortable and irritable throughout the day, easily getting upset.

Extending from that story, Asher described what happened just after finishing a meal with Marvin, when Bershia said, “Your whimpering is cute,” causing him to snap.

“I was not sulking! It’s just that the Saintess’s body is not adept at hiding emotions! If it were the usual me, I wouldn’t have acted like that! Of course! Just because my body switched for a moment doesn’t mean the memories I made with Marvin disappeared!”

… In saying this, Asher was unaware he was crossing his arms and making a sulky face.

Bershia sat with her legs crossed and chin rested, smiling brightly.

Her attitude seemed to mock Asher’s logic.

“Oh come on, that’s not true. I was good at hiding my emotions even in that body, you know? And based on that logic….”

Bershia leaned forward.

Asher flinched.

He felt like a frog before a snake.

In that moment, the snake opened its mouth wide.

“You have a body that gets all stiff at any moment!”

“Ugh! I didn’t!!!”

“Oh really? If not, why would I be stiff? Even now!”

“I know you’re just lying…!”

“Should I show you?”

“Ah! Please don’t! It’s true!!!”

Asher gasped, rushing toward her as she slid her hand toward her waistband.

The shamefully wet voice only fueled Bershia’s sadistic tendencies.

The difference in strength was stark.

Even with a little effort from Bershia, Asher found himself clinging to her, groaning.

Eventually, all Asher could do was plead.

“P-please treat my body with care! I’m embarrassed to show my bare skin to others!”

“W-well, it’s only you seeing it right now.”

“But the Saintess sees it too!”

“I see it morning and evening.”

“That’s totally different!!!”

Asher was serious.

After all, if showing skin became a habit, wouldn’t it ultimately lead to moral decay?

In a moment like that, he might joke around and really drop his pants in front of others.

Of course, a rational person wouldn’t do that, but Asher could no longer trust Bershia’s sense of morality.

Why on earth did he have to go through such things?

Lately, Asher had been feeling resentful of the divine being. But he felt even more resentment toward Bershia.

Today, gripped by rising emotions, Asher squinted at her and lamented.

“You’re truly too much! Saintess, you’re a pervert!”

“Is there anyone who curses so beautifully? It’s like saying ‘No’ with your mouth while being wet below, young lady…”

“Ugh!!!”

Bang!

What followed was a kind of impulsive reaction sans thought.

Blood rushed to Asher’s head as he threw Bershia down to the ground.

“…Ah.”

Regaining his senses only after a delay, Asher felt like he had doused himself with cold water.

Bershia, who was upside down, looked up at him with a dazed expression.

Asher stammered, “B-but the Saintess was wrong first…!” and hesitated before finally approaching her to say,

“Y-you’re not hurt, are you…?”

Still, that violence seemed a bit excessive.

*

While the entire church was raucous over the rampage of witches or whatever, Asher’s daily life didn’t change much.

To be precise, the life of the Saintess hadn’t changed.

It was a kind of standby command.

Indeed, moving as a combination of a first-class knight and a Saintess required careful management of these troop resources.

They shouldn’t waste unnecessary steps.

Thus, Asher could only depart when the dispatched knights began to estimate the location of the heretics.

Although it was frustrating to just stomp around, what could he do?

He must not make the situation chaotic with unnecessary greed.

Anyway, his usual life was spent in the training grounds.

It wasn’t just passing time.

As there could be combat, training was necessary.

Basic physical training, and then—

Boom!

“Alright, let’s try again!”

It was sparring.

Asher shouted with his hands clenched.

Before him lay Bershia, wearing a somewhat vacant expression.

“…Should we take a break?”

“No way! No matter how strong your body is, to protect yourself from enemies targeting the Saintess, you at least need basic self-defense skills!”

“I feel like we’ve already exceeded the minimum.”

“If you see a chance, don’t stop! Skills can always be refined!”

Asher’s body was drenched in sweat.

His breath was hot, and his head was spinning.

There’s nothing as refreshing and rewarding as moving and sparring.

“…Hah.”

“Deep sighs won’t help! Now, let’s move on to swordsmanship practice!”

Asher picked up a wooden sword.

It was just a very thin and light rapier-shaped object, but he didn’t care much.

He was someone who had never been particularly picky about the type or quality of weapons.

“We’ll practice light blocks, counterattacks, thrusts, and slashes! You’ve done it in joint training too, but… swordsmanship that matches the training direction of my body is something I’ll need to teach directly!”

Saying this, he waved his jacket.

Bershia mumbled, sounding grumpy.

“You’re soaked…”

“That doesn’t count!”

Asher scolded him.

He quelled his warming cheeks with firm determination.

Ahem, how long would he endure being teased by such vulgar words?

Bershia knew very well that she was teasing him because his reactions were so good.

He decided he wouldn’t respond anymore.

Asher thought as he looked down at Bershia with a disgruntled expression.

A smile carried a hint of pride in himself at the corners of his mouth.

“Now, let’s begin! First, we’ll do fencing number one!”

“…Ah, this isn’t fun.”

“Training isn’t for fun! Here I go!”

Bang!

With a light flick, Asher thrust his sword into Bershia’s solar plexus.

Bershia grit her teeth and swung her bastard sword-like wooden sword.

Clang!

The attack was blocked.

It was only natural.

Even if Asher’s understanding of swordsmanship was outstanding and his combat intelligence remarkable, the difference in physical capability was unmistakable.

In every aspect—strength, speed, reflex—Bershia’s body was inferior.

Conversely, the body of Asher she wore was perfectly capable of extending ahead prior to a thought, outlining an ideal path.

That’s what brings about this balanced match.

A battle between the one clad in overwhelming physicality and one with exceptional combat intelligence.

For Asher, this very setup was serving as training.

The fight from the perspective of the weak… it had been far too long since he experienced that.

Bam bam!

The moves exchanged at a rapid pace.

Though Bershia appeared to lack enthusiasm, that didn’t mean she wasn’t considering improving her own swordsmanship, and her moves were becoming increasingly sharp.

The difficulty of the opponent continued to rise.

Now, Asher could only win by predicting and countering rather than just reacting to the attacks.

A jolt of electricity ran down his spine.

His heart raced madly, spreading the thrill of battle throughout his body.

It was a joy only attainable in a state of extreme concentration.

Asher’s mind now input everything Bershia could showcase—the potential paths of her sword and combinations—only to erase it.

And so, with predictions made, he deflected the incoming thrust and dashed into her embrace.

He thought it would go like, bam! … to thrust, but—

“Ugh!”

He stumbled.

His poorly performing body didn’t move according to Asher’s thoughts.

At that moment, Bershia’s eyes widened.

She let go of her sword and wrapped her arms around Asher.

With a thud! they both fell over, Asher sprawled beneath Bershia.

Asher opened his eyes wide and looked up at Bershia.

Bershia frowned.

Perhaps it was the sting from her hand that was covering the back of her head.

Their faces were quite close.

Perhaps from moving so vigorously until just before, a warmth rose from their bodies.

Moisture wafted from their breaths.

Where they touched tingled.

Drip, the sweat flowing down Bershia’s nose hit Asher’s cheek.

“Um….”

For some reason, Asher felt his head going blank as he fumbled with his lips.

In that moment—

“What are you doing?”

A clear voice rang out.

Startled, Asher turned his head.

At the entrance to the training grounds stood Rubena Pradely, frowning as she looked at him.

“?”

Asher was unable to grasp the situation and simply stared at her.

Then he realized his state.

Him lying on the floor and Bershia on top of him.

One of Bershia’s hands was on the back of Asher’s head while the other was behind his waist.

Both of them were drenched in sweat, and perhaps due to their struggle when they fell, Asher’s skirt had flipped up, exposing her pale skin from her ankle to mid-thigh.

As he blinked and afterward looked back at Rubena, Asher suddenly realized how the scene appeared to others and flush! his face turned crimson.

Rubena didn’t hide her disdain and took a step back.

“Making a scene outdoors in broad daylight….”

“No, no, no!!!”

Screaming in panic, that was the first thing that escaped his lips.