In the Church, the Two of Us

And so, dawn broke.

A dazzling sunrise, a cloudless sky, the gentle warmth of spring.

As they walked along with no particular destination, Yoal idly recounted everything that had happened.

How he had been resurrected through twists and turns. How he had trained for many long years under a worthless master before visiting the "Witchlands." How, along the way, he had violated three women for his own convenience. What had just happened—that Charlotte was merely one of them.

"… … Yoal."

"Yeah."

Almaeira walked ahead as if leading the way. The gaze she cast back over her shoulder wavered with a hint of unease.

"… Why…?"

"Why what? … That I did three women?"

No, including his master, it would be four. Yoal shrugged as he said this, following behind Almaeira.

She slowed her pace slightly and quietly came to walk beside him—at the very least, she didn't seem to be rejecting him.

"… No. That is… part of it, but…"

"I see… No, well, I figured as much."

He had steeled himself for this. The Almaeira of old would never have tolerated violence against women. Even if the man were her childhood friend—no, precisely because he was her childhood friend, she would have wished all the more for his reformation.

"That is part of it… But there's something more important."

"… Which is?"

Almaeira gently parted her flower-like lips and gazed at Yoal walking beside her.

"… Wh-why, why didn't you lay a hand on me first!!!!"

Yoal face-planted.

He tumbled spectacularly, pitching forward face-first into the ground.

"Y-Yoal? … A-Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself somewhere…?"

"No, I'm fine…"

Almaeira hurriedly offered her hand to him after his pratfall.

Taken aback by her unexpected reaction, Yoal gratefully accepted her hand and stood up. He quickly brushed off the grass and debris clinging to his face.

"… Well, that's where my excuse comes in."

"… I don't mind. God… doesn't seem to be watching… so I will listen."

"Confession, then."

"… Something like that, I suppose… Just an imitation, though."

He started to say "That's not true," but stopped himself. She was no longer a "Saintess" after all.

He couldn't help but feel it acutely.

Just as Yoal had changed over twenty years—Almaeira, too, had changed.

"… Over there. The place where I… always… prayed."

Saying this, Almaeira took Yoal's hand. Her other small hand pointed into the distance.

A crumbling little building. Too soon to call it ruins, but God's glory had surely faded long ago—a place that was once a church.

So this is where she had been leading me, Yoal understood. Indeed, it would be the perfect place to confess one's sins.

"Strange. That there would be a church in a place like this."

"… It was apparently disputed territory with the kingdom long ago. It broke down, was never repaired… and just stayed that way, I suppose…"

Almaeira gently pushed open the door with an air of wistful appreciation.

With an exaggerated creak, the entrance opened.

Following her, Yoal entered as well. The interior was surprisingly grand, and the scene with morning light streaming in could be called quite pleasant.

Illuminated by light filtering through stained glass, she walked slowly down the central red carpet.

Yoal followed behind, his footsteps echoing. A cool breeze blew in through a gap in the wall, gently fluttering his black coat.

Creak—thud.

Behind Yoal, the entrance door closed with a loud sound.

"… Just the two of us… It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"… It really has. Twenty years—no."

Yoal slowly shook his head.

Even when alive, the two had been forced to interact as public figures—they were never in a position that allowed personal relationships. This was especially true for Almaeira, who was called the "Saintess."

For Yoal as well, with repeated military deployments, he barely had any opportunities to speak with her privately. Thinking back seriously, it would have been when they were children who had only just begun to be aware of each other as man and woman.

Almaeira climbed the steps toward the altar, then plopped down in the middle of the staircase.

That unaffected gesture alone stirred something in his chest—precisely because as a "Saintess," she had always maintained perfect composure and bearing.

Yoal looked up at her from below the steps, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Alma."

"… Yes…?"

"I can see your underwear."

"… …"

Almaeira's cheeks flushed for a moment, then she gently parted her knees.

She hugged both knees drawn up in a triangle—white fabric peeking in and out from beneath her black vestments.

"… That makes it incredibly hard to concentrate."

"Yoal."

"What."

"… Am I… lacking in sex appeal…?"

"Not at all!! I want to hold you right this instant!!! I want you to bear my children!!!!"

By the time he thought "Oh," it was already too late—he had blurted out his desires almost reflexively.

Almaeira turned far redder than before and buried her face in her knees. She shook her head as if rubbing her forehead against them.

"… S-Sorry. I couldn't help it."

"… No, it's fine. Please continue…"

Almaeira's cheeks softened slightly as she raised her face and glanced at Yoal.

For words spoken before God, it was infinitely irreverent, but apparently he was forgiven—Yoal cleared his throat once and gazed intently at Almaeira.

Her underwear was still completely visible, but he tried his best not to mind.

"—So, the story of why. Given what I've done, I doubt you'll believe me, but… if possible, I wanted to come to you first."

"… Ah."

As if those words had given her understanding, Almaeira's eyes widened slightly.

In other words, she realized the issue of the "Witchlands"—that impregnable domain.

The vast miasma that prevented ordinary people from entering, and the absolute guards that eliminated intruders. These things kept all outsiders away—sometimes even those she herself wished to welcome.

"In that process, I took the easiest means available. In other words, using women."

There was no room for justification on that point. The ends don't justify the means—he was fully aware of that.

If that couldn't be forgiven… then he would simply receive his due punishment.

"I understand… I forgive you…"

"… Isn't that too quick?"

"… I-I'm not in a hurry or anything…?"

Almaeira's eyes darted around momentarily, then she clasped her hands before her chest and stared intently at Yoal.

"Yoal… Your sins are harming people. Hurting them. Humiliating them…"

"… Yeah. No doubt about it."

"… Personally, I'm quite envious, but…"

"That part wasn't necessary, was it?"

"… Ahem… Whether to forgive or not—that is not for me to decide… It is for those who were hurt and humiliated to decide."

Almaeira cleared her throat once and slowly, quietly rose to her feet.

Step by step, she descended the stairs. She walked right up to Yoal—facing him directly.

"… Therefore, I forgive you… Not the sins you committed, but you yourself… I forgive…"

Almaeira smiled warmly and softly, reaching out her hand.

Her small palm stroked Yoal's head. She gently mussed his gray hair and placed her hand flat against his forehead.

"… Your back is hunched… You need to stand up straight… That's why I can reach you."

A smile that seemed to blow away any hint of shadow—in it, Yoal saw the unmistakable image of the "Saintess."

In that instant, small white hands wrapped around Yoal's neck. Almaeira leaned close to him, rising gently onto her tiptoes.

Soft mucous membranes brushed together delicately, and a faint wet sound escaped.

"… My first… Everything… I want you to receive it, Yoal."

Her toes touched down on the floor, and Almaeira smiled bashfully.

Yoal touched his lips where her warmth still lingered, tracing them gently with his fingertips.

"… Come to think of it, that was my first too."

"… Huh?"

"What's with that 'huh'?"

"… No, it's just, I heard you had experience with other women, so I assumed…"

"I don't remember giving permission for that… As if I could lie to your face—speaking of which, what about the infidelity?"

He had hurt someone, humiliated them. That was certainly a major problem, but Yoal's actions were, in plain terms, infidelity, adultery of a sort.

Again and again, the ends don't justify the means. On this point, the discretion lay with Almaeira.

"… Infidelity…"

"Yeah."

"… Y-Yoal. Perhaps…"

"What? What is it?"

She suddenly looked up at him with a grave expression.

"… Did you… marry someone…?"

"How did you get to that!?"

"Well, you said infidelity… so I thought perhaps you had a wife… and infidelity really isn't acceptable…"

"No, that's not what I meant."

He was about to try calming her as she clutched her head in distress—but before he could, Almaeira pressed him urgently.

"… I-I can't, I can't take it anymore… Yoal, let's have an affair…? With me too, otherwise, I can't bear it…"

"I'm not even married in the first place!?"

"… Eh, ah… uh…?"

"I love you, Alma, but I was also doing it with other women, that's what I meant…!"

While the presence or absence of a formal marriage was certainly an important point of contention, in this case it wasn't particularly relevant.

Hearing this, Almaeira nodded as if it all made sense.

"… When I think of it that way, it does bother me a little, but… retroactively calling past actions a sin doesn't seem fair… There's no fact that you and I were in a relationship or marriage…"

"That's true, but…"

Yoal was taken aback by this administrative processing typical of church personnel.

She hadn't served in a church that handled marriages for nothing, it seemed.

—In that case, Almaeira smiled and whispered:

"… We should simply make it official now… Unfortunately, I no longer have any family registry, but…"

"Neither do I."

Yoal couldn't help but smile wryly. Though at this point, it was clear that such things no longer mattered.

"… So, Yoal… Could you say it again…?"

"Once more…"

He searched for the words he should say once more.

The answer came quickly.

"I love you, Alma."

"… O-One more time."

"I love you, Alma."

"… M-More."

"I love you, Alma!!"

"… J-Just one more time, please."

"I love you, Alma!! Marry me!!"

"Oh, ah, wait, um, a-actually, one more time—"

"Enough already!!"

Yoal embraced her back and pressed their lips together.

Their soft lips met with a gentle sound. They intertwined deeply, rubbing their wet membranes together.

"… Mm, ah…"

A faint breath escaped from the corner of her mouth. Strength drained from her slender shoulders, and Almaeira surrendered herself to Yoal's chest.

Skin pressed against skin through fabric. He cherished the high body heat and soft skin he could feel even through her vestments—eagerly sliding his tongue in.

Without any technique or finesse, he traced her teeth. He licked her lips, entwined tongue with tongue. They sucked at each other as if exchanging saliva itself. Their tongues slid back and forth wetly while their lips made soft, wet sounds.

For an instant their lips and tongues parted, drawing a thin thread of saliva—then their tongue tips touched again, bursting a bubble of saliva. After kissing with just their tongue tips lapping at each other, their lips pressed together deeply once more in intimate union. Wet, smacking sounds rang out. They licked around each other's mouths, their tongues twisting and entangling.

"… Hah."

"… Mm, nn… 💕"

With each kiss, the girl's body temperature rose. Yoal gently traced her faintly trembling spine, lightly touching from her delicate neck to her earlobe.

That alone made Almaeira's body jolt. Strength melted from her shoulders. Her eyes grew moist and hazy, and she fidgeted, lightly swaying her small bottom.

Yoal gently stroked her rear through her vestments, pressing his fingertips firmly as if embracing her. The soft sensation of her slender yet yielding flesh inevitably stoked his desire, heat pooling in his lower body.

"… Ah… mm… 💕"

Almaeira's brow creased with longing as she pressed her soft lips against his, rubbing them together. Feeling something quiver at the resilient, soft sensation, Yoal kissed her more intensely. He rubbed upper and lower lips alternately against each other, gently inserting his tongue into her relaxed mouth—mixing saliva wetly, both of them swallowing it down.

All the while, Yoal kneaded her bottom. He savored her small, pert, soft flesh, moved by the small body growing warm with arousal.

Her slender thighs rubbed together restlessly, and Almaeira looked up at the man with yearning.

"… Yoal… That's not fair…"

"What is?"

"… Don't press something hard against me…"

"… Sorry. I couldn't help it."

"… Then I forgive you…"

Their tongue tips touched wetly for just an instant before they parted lips, and both finally exhaled.

After swallowing her saliva with a gulp, Almaeira spoke with a hint of anxiety.

"… D-Did it… taste like semen…?"

"It only tasted like your saliva."

"… That's embarrassing too…"

It was as if they were unleashing years of pent-up desire upon each other.

Things they couldn't do before because of their respective positions. But now, nothing bound them anymore.

"Alma."

"… Yes…"

"Shall we make a baby?"

—In that instant, Almaeira's face turned bright red and she looked down. She clasped her hands before her chest, letting out meaningless groans of "aah" and "uuh" while fidgeting her legs together.

She leaned in close to Yoal's ear and whispered in a faint voice.

"… I want to make babies. More than having children, I want to make babies. Even after we have children, I want to keep making them. Lots and lots, every day, please make babies with me… 💕"

A voice dripping with coquettishness and sensuality. There was no trace of the "Saintess's" sanctity in it—only raw, exposed "woman."

Yoal narrowed his eyes and pulled Almaeira close.

"… You lusty saint."

"… Quiet. You philandering mage."

"Oh, you said it? I'll live up to your expectations—you won't sleep for three days."

"… There's a secret basement here… A room no one knows about except me… Shall we go?"

"Let's go."

"… Yeah."

They exchanged smiles like children again—though both were far more worn down than they once were.

The two set off walking side by side.

No longer innocent or pure, but still, they had joined together.

   

At the same time—three women were pressed against a gap in the abandoned church's wall.

Needless to say, they were there to spy on Almaeira and Yoal's exchange.

"… And with that, case closed, I guess."

"Things seem to have worked out. Somewhat unexpectedly."

"I never knew Alma was such an airhead…"

"She's always had a dreamy side. More surprising is that he seems genuinely devoted."

"Highly suspicious, though. After carving marks like this into us—"

"Why do you look so pleased?"

"I-I don't! I absolutely don't!!"

While the two exchanged lively words—Aery and Charlotte—beside them, one woman bit down on thin silk and swallowed her tears.

"I-I won't accept this…!! That Lady Alma would accept such trash…!!"

"I understand being sad about a man leaving you, but you should learn to let go."

"Have some dignity. Being honest would be better for you."

"Uuugh, you're right!? That's absolutely true! I was getting ready to console a man who'd been completely rejected…!"

Wiping her eyes, she—Nyrn—stamped her feet in frustration as if venting her grievances.

"I-In that case…"

"If you intend to harm those two, I will show no mercy."

"Unfortunately, I'd have to do the same."

"I'll have to ingratiate myself somehow and receive some leftovers as a reward…!!"

"Have you no pride?"

"Old hags shouldn't butt in with the young ones."

"I'm not an old hag!?"

Nyrn looked up at the sky, fuming.

It was an irritatingly beautiful blue sky.

"Well, trouble might be coming. It wouldn't hurt to have her working with us."

"… You mean the Demon King."

"It's only an engagement, but it's as if someone stole his woman right out from under him. His pride as the Demon King is at stake. He'll surely come to reclaim her no matter what."

"Right. Both Aery and I will be held responsible. At this point, I'll follow Alma to the ends of the earth."

Charlotte spoke as if something had clicked for her. Aery's expression said it didn't even need to be put into words.

"Yoal seemed to have some kind of plan about that, but… honestly, we don't even know how strong he really is."

"Let's just pray it's a sensible plan. Surely he's not thinking of going to war."

"If it's for Lady Alma, it wouldn't be strange if that man did exactly that… though I doubt the odds would be favorable."

"… In that case, I might have a role to play too…!!"

Saying that, Nyrn suddenly strode forward with determination.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I'll spread the word to the other witches…! If we can coordinate, all the better!"

After shouting this, she quickly disappeared into the distance.

What a restless girl, Charlotte thought with an exasperated smile as she watched her go.

"Well then, I shall take my leave as well. Things will get busy."

"… Won't the real trouble start from now? No need to rush."

"No, that's not it."

To Charlotte's puzzled head tilt, Aery pointed toward the church.

No one was there anymore. She hadn't known about the basement, but if Yoal and Almaeira holed up there—

"It's their first reunion in twenty years. Judging from their intimacy just now, their physical compatibility should be excellent. It truly wouldn't be strange if they didn't emerge for three days, or even longer. In that case, at the very least, I should attend to their daily needs during that time."

"… Ah… I suppose so…"

Charlotte nodded deeply in understanding.

"Well then, until later," Aery said as she started walking, then paused and looked back.

"Oh, there was one thing I forgot to mention."

"… What is it?"

"That tea—please throw it away. It was drugged."

"Huh!? … What!?"

"If you don't mind casually getting your mood heightened, that's fine, and apparently the effects are temporary unless you take it continuously—anyway, farewell."

After dropping that bombshell, Aery briskly walked away as if nothing had happened.

Left alone, Charlotte stood there dumbfounded, gazing up at the sky and sighing.

"—Maybe I should try for some leftovers too…"

She had no intention of removing her Lewd Crest—it was like a scar from battle, so to speak.

"Can't really criticize anyone else, can I," Charlotte muttered with narrowed eyes.