Yes, in retrospect, it’s been a whole ten years.
The time Usher spent envisioning Bersia amounted to nearly half his life. Perhaps that deeply rooted yearning had embellished her image in his mind.
But Usher had his grievances about that.
Eight years ago, when he joined the Order of Holy Knights, he’d constantly heard of Bersia. Among the four Saints, she was the most elegant and serene. She had never missed a duty, was devoted to her calling, and her divine powers were rumored to be blessed by the gods themselves.
Above all, no bad rumors followed her. On the contrary, stories circulated that “the Saint kneels for the lowly” or “the Saint sheds tears for the hungry.” Only tales of her sincerity and piety existed.
Usher believed he would serve someone who embodied all the purity in the world.
So…
“Um… Ah.”
Never did he expect her to be someone who would smile while fondling another’s groin.
He felt his soul leave his body.
Marvin’s words surfaced in his mind.
“You fool! The absence of rumors means she’s extremely meticulous!”
Could it be that Marvin was a sage ahead of his time?
“Hello?” Bersia spoke up.
“Are you flustered? So am I.”
Usher felt a question rising to his throat.
‘Are you really flustered?’
According to Usher’s understanding, someone truly shocked wouldn’t persistently fondle another’s groin so intently. Yet she claimed she was flustered, so what could he say?
The only thought in Usher’s mind at that moment was:
‘How long does she intend to keep touching it?’
Her hand was still there.
Watching the scene, he felt a certain shame, as though he was being violated. His face was growing redder by the second, his embarrassment stark against Bersia’s pristine white skin. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to understand, his eyes losing focus.
He could no longer bear to look at Bersia. The fact that it was his own body meant nothing; his shame was that intense.
Bersia finally noticed his discomfort.
“Oh!”
She withdrew her hand slowly and rubbed her palm against her trousers, hesitating before speaking again.
“That… um.”
“…”
“I’m sorry. I was curious.”
“…?”
“Now I feel bad for being the only one touching it. Would you like to touch, sir?”
Touch what?
He asked with his eyes, and Bersia responded with her gaze, directing it to his chest.
Thunk! Usher flinched.
Instinctively, he crossed his arms over his chest, a sense of betrayal causing him to shudder. Rising resentment, frustration, and memories of being violated twisted his thoughts into a mess.
Then Bersia smiled and spoke.
“It’s worth touching, isn’t it?”
She lifted her hand, mimicking the act of grasping something.
Snap—
Something in Usher’s mind snapped.
He felt his hair stand on end as he shouted, almost in a scream. His eyes narrowed in disbelief.
“Saint! That’s indecent!”
The faithful young knight Usher, who had dreamed of a bright future, faced the cruelty of reality that day.
He had to admit it.
“Pardon? Suddenly?”
The saint of his dreams, Bersia de Astalion, was a woman with horrifyingly vulgar manners.
The unexpected ordeal was settled with the arrival of the Knight Commander.
It dawned on Usher much later—just as Bersia had groped herself and acted outlandishly, he too had come to the knights’ barracks, filled with men, in her body, dressed in pajamas, and barefoot.
That was certainly no behavior becoming of a saint.
“What is going on?”
Hiccup!
Usher hiccuped.
As he nervously turned his gaze, there stood the Knight Commander, Sir Whale, the ever-strict disciplinarian with his white hair and fan-shaped mustache, a figure synonymous with fear.
“Rise! A knight only falls in death!”
The echo of that voice rang in his ears, and that impeccably straight mustache looked like a guillotine.
He desperately searched for an excuse, his mind racing, but despite all efforts, nothing came to mind.
Usher squeezed his eyes shut.
‘Ah, such shortsightedness!’
He should have thought of this, even in such a situation!
At that moment—
Snap!
Bersia knelt, crossing herself with the etiquette of a knight.
“Yes, I receive the revelation, Saint.”
In that instant, Usher felt a pang of defeat watching Bersia behave more knightly than he ever could.
It was a fleeting feeling, of course, but still.
“??”
Usher turned his head sharply, bewildered, but had no chance to voice his confusion.
Thud!
The Knight Commander’s eyes widened as he, too, knelt.
And it didn’t stop there.
Everyone around, even the onlookers, knelt.
“In the name of the Father!”
The loud exclamation echoed through the barracks, leaving Usher in a daze.
A revelation.
It was divine advice, a directive from the creator deity of this land to his creations. Historically, revelations had served as great milestones, correcting great dangers or misalignments on the continent.
And those who could hear that voice were the saints—daughters chosen by the creator, like Bersia and the three other saints.
In short, Bersia’s quick thinking turned the Holy Church upside down that day.
“I accept the revelation!”
At her declaration, the cardinals quickly gathered, bowing to Usher, while scholars rushed in with parchment to record every word.
Even Usher’s hesitant “Um… uh…” was carefully documented.
Usher felt as if he was going insane.
‘So what was the revelation?’
After sparking the uproar, Bersia vanished, taken by the priests who claimed she needed purification as the revelation’s chosen recipient.
And so, he was left alone to clean up the mess.
The intense gaze of the scholars was unbearably overwhelming.
“What kind of revelation was it?”
Usher didn’t know.
He couldn’t just make something up. Without knowing how revelations appeared—whether in words, sentences, or images—how could he answer?
So he repeated, “Um,” “Uh,” and “So…” in a loop.
How long did that go on?
“It was the Guide’s Revelation.”
“Sir Usher!”
The scholars leapt to their feet.
Usher, looking as if salvation had come, turned to them in relief, only to flinch. His straight posture, serene smile, polished armor, and white sword—it was the very image of an ideal Holy Knight.
His eyes met Bersia’s. She offered a reassuring smile and then turned to the scholars.
“Between the paths lies a mire. Lift the promised sword, and guide the shepherd. Blessings will light your way.”
The scholars gasped, “Ah!” and eagerly copied her words onto parchment. Excitedly, they pondered, “What could the mire mean?” “The promised sword—it must reveal Sir Usher’s truth!” “Indeed! The Saint chose her words with great care!”
Usher was at a loss, but Bersia approached him.
“Shall we go, Saint? You must be weary from this early morning ordeal.”
With a graceful escort, her hand extended, and Usher, drained, took it.
‘Oh, I’m saved…!’
Bersia led him to her garden, offering various pointers along the way.
“Keep a neutral expression. If someone greets you, lift the corner of your mouth and nod. Keep your stride within a foot and a half. Don’t worry about the revelation anymore. The scholars will be too busy debating amongst themselves to bother you.”
The events of the morning felt almost surreal.
As Bersia’s gentle voice washed over him, her smile filled him with confidence. Here, right before him, was the saint he had dreamed of.
Granted, she was in his body, but still!
“Yes, yes…!”
Usher felt a rush of relief and, at the same time, embarrassment. As her knight, he’d relied on her help all morning.
He steeled himself. ‘Get it together!’
Bersia was handling everything well, but there was surely some unease hidden beneath her calm demeanor. After all, they’d both woken up in each other’s bodies overnight. He had to stop thinking of her as a burden and start viewing her as a partner in facing this crisis.
Finally, they arrived at the garden, its white and blue flowers in full bloom, with a tea table set in the middle. Usher took a seat, and Bersia sat across from him.
It was time to discuss their situation.
He composed himself, ready to speak—
Thud.
Usher froze, a faint look of disdain creeping onto his face.
The reason was simple.
Bersia had crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, spread them, and finally, her hand moved to her groin.
Usher’s voice was cold.
“…Saint, what are you doing?”
“Oh.”
Bersia looked up, smiling awkwardly, with a hint of amusement.
“I wanted to cross my legs, but, you know… it’s in the way.”
Usher closed his eyes, his face turning as red as a beet.
“It’s… uncomfortable,” she murmured. “Oh, and did you ever try touching mine? When it’s your own, it feels… different, doesn’t it? In that way, men are fascinating—”
“Saint! Please…!”
It was dizzying.
His mind was a chaotic mess, but amidst it all, he realized one thing.
“You fool! The absence of rumors just means she’s extremely meticulous!”
His friend Marvin truly was a wise man.
At least, wiser than him.
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