The history of the position known as the “Saintess” was long and storied.
It was only natural.
After all, wasn’t the Saintess the divine voice established directly by the main God who created this land? The position has existed for as long as humanity itself.
If one looked far back enough, there were even times before the “Church” existed, when the Saintess was both a queen and a priest. But such times were irrelevant to the topic at hand, so let’s skip over that.
The key point was this: since the Church’s establishment, countless secret stories involving the Saintess had accumulated, and one of those secrets led to the creation of what was now called the “Tea Party.”
The Blue Rose War.
It was an incident where two Saintesses, who held sway over the Church at the time, intervened in the election of the next pope, leading to a disastrous conflict.
Each Saintess supported a different faction and waged war to install their preferred candidate as the pope.
The sheer amount of blood spilled within the Church during that war was unspeakable.
The lesson learned from that war was clear: Saintesses did not need power. Moreover, their political and emotional clashes could bring great harm to the Church.
After the incident, Saintesses were distanced from Church politics. The system was reorganized so that the position of Saintess was more akin to an honorary title. Furthermore, measures were introduced to mediate and prevent their physical conflicts.
That measure was the “Tea Party,” a gathering of Saintesses.
And Usher was now heading there.
“What should I do? If I go alone and get caught….”
“……”
“Isn’t that right? Even if I somehow imitate the Saintess, what if they bring up past incidents…?”
Usher let out a long sigh.
As he did so, he nibbled on yet another cookie.
Whether it was due to the change in his body or the effects of menstruation, he couldn’t seem to calm down without eating something sweet.
“Saintess, are you listening? Is there any information you could share with me?”
“Information…”
Usher tilted his head in confusion.
For some reason, Bersia’s voice sounded unusually subdued.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ he wondered, glancing up at her.
And then he saw it.
Flinch—
“…Saintess?”
Bersia was looking down at him with a shadowy smile on her face.
In that moment, Usher realized something was terribly wrong.
“Sir Knight.”
“Y-yes?”
“You’ve emptied an entire plate of cookies.”
“???”
What was that supposed to mean?
As Usher tried to process her words—
Smack!
“Eek!”
“What’s this belly fat?”
“L-let go…!”
Before he knew it, Bersia had reached out and grabbed his stomach.
Usher curled up, his face flushed red, as he grabbed her wrist tightly.
For some reason, having his stomach grabbed made his mind go blank, and shame surged to the top of his head.
It wasn’t easy to shake off.
First, Bersia had grown accustomed to Usher’s body and could control her strength well. Second, his posture wasn’t ideal for escaping.
There was a note of reproach in Bersia’s voice.
“While some people have been training since morning, here you are like this.”
“Ugh…”
“You said you’d manage your health for me, and yet your belly is so soft now….”
“I’m sorry…!”
“You used to have such a lean body.”
Usher squeezed his eyes shut.
Trembling, he felt a twinge of indignation.
How could he not? His mood had been all over the place because of a menstrual cycle he’d never dealt with before in his life.
If he didn’t eat something like this, he felt like he’d sink into depression and die.
Still holding Bersia’s wrist, he struggled to wriggle free, but it was futile.
Even when he tried scratching at her skin with his nails, her knight-trained, impenetrable toughness wouldn’t yield.
This was not good news for him.
“Are you pregnant or something?”
“D-don’t exaggerate—ah!”
“How scandalous, whose child is it?”
“D-don’t say such things!”
“Sir Knight.”
“……”
Usher lowered his head, his eyes darting around nervously.
It was the expression often likened to a puppy caught causing trouble.
Even in such a state, he was aware of the fact that he had been recklessly using someone else’s body.
Bersia smirked coldly as she spoke.
“You need to lose some weight, don’t you?”
Usher’s lips pressed into a pout.
For a brief moment, his gaze lingered longingly on the now-empty plate.
But what could he do? Surprisingly, her words were not entirely without logic this time.
In the end, his head nodded slowly in agreement.
His shoulders slumped.
“…”
Usher fell into sullen silence.
After a period of lighthearted scolding mixed with genuine advice, Bersia finally gave Usher some answers.
It was a relief for him.
- “There’s nothing to worry about. Just don’t behave as you did before. Keep quiet and come out once it’s over.”
- “Hmm? There aren’t any topics I need to avoid?”
- “Did you think I’d be chatting with them? When it comes to matters concerning me, you probably know more about it than anyone in the Church.”
- “Oh…!”
- “Why is your face turning red? Then again, if someone else knew how many moles I had on my body…”
- “I-I don’t know anything like that!”
- “Harsh. You haven’t even checked yet?”
- “I’ll never look! Not even if I die!!!”
- “Am I really that unattractive?”
- “That’s not what I meant at all…!”
Let’s just move past Bersia’s inability to resist teasing him.
If anything, it indicated that this meeting would be relatively uneventful.
The Tea Party only became significant when a new face appeared or when international relations grew tense.
Knowing that he would just observe some small talk and subtle power plays before returning put Usher somewhat at ease.
The day of the Tea Party arrived.
Since the schedule began in the morning, Bersia and Usher didn’t meet that day.
Oddly enough, not having the person he spent every morning with left a slight void.
Lost in thought, he set out on his way.
The Tea Party took place in a massive garden in the Church’s southwestern region.
The area, surrounded by fences, was guarded at regular intervals by second-grade holy knights.
As Usher passed by, he spotted a few familiar faces.
They were juniors who had once requested sparring matches with him.
‘I can’t even greet them now.’
He wondered whether that one junior had managed to fix their lower left guard weakness as he stepped into the garden.
The space was filled with blooming yellow and blue flowers.
At the center stood a slightly larger tea table, where two women were seated.
Usher braced himself, adjusting his expression.
As he approached, one of them reacted.
“Well, look who it is. That b****.”
It was Rubena, smirking crookedly as she rested her chin on her hand.
Across from her sat another Saintess, someone Usher was meeting for the first time.
“…Sit down. Stop standing there like a nuisance. Tsk, looks like that person is last again this time.”
The one who spoke curtly without even glancing at him was Judith Harroway.
Usher took a moment to study her appearance.
Her overall frame was lanky and slender.
She might even be the tallest among the Saintesses.
Her straight black hair cascaded down to her waist.
Her corpse-like pale skin and deep dark circles gave her an eerie appearance.
The corners of her drooping eyes were reddened and inflamed. Her small mouth remained tightly shut, opening only slightly when she took a puff from her pipe.
Hoo—
A wisp of smoke swirled into the air.
Usher suddenly recalled Marvin’s words.
- “Her reputation isn’t great, you know? People call her more of a witch than a saint!”
He could now understand why such rumors circulated.
Indeed, Judith exuded a gloomy, decadent beauty that gave off an unsettling atmosphere.
But as always, appearances couldn’t be used to judge someone.
He decided not to jump to conclusions.
Usher forced himself to wear a neutral expression and took his seat, not responding to their words.
Bersia had specifically instructed him.
- “If you stay quiet, they won’t bother you. Just keep your mouth shut and wait it out.”
But was it really that easy to avoid trouble?
Rubena chuckled nastily.
“Well, look at that. Showing your true face now, huh? God, you’re disgusting, pretending to be all coy in front of men.”
“…”
Usher flinched, his head instinctively lifting.
It wasn’t to respond but to react.
“Shut up. You’re too loud.”
Thud—
Rubena froze in place.
Her glossy gaze flicked toward Judith, her lips curling upward in a strained smirk.
“…What did you just say?”
“Why is your voice so loud? It’s vulgar.”
“Wha—you—!”
“Can’t even finish a sentence without cursing? Seriously, a dumb girl who got lucky with a single revelation sits here like she’s important…”
Judith took a deep drag from her pipe, exhaling smoke toward Rubena’s face.
Their gazes clashed—one filled with disdain, the other with fiery rage.
Then Judith smirked crookedly and spoke.
“I wonder what the God thinks about all this…”
Cold sweat trickled down Usher’s back.
‘Are they… really going to fight?’
Bersia’s words suddenly resurfaced in his mind.
- “Just watch them fight. It’s rare entertainment.”
- “…Entertainment?”
- “It’s fun. They’re practically dying to kill each other.”
Fun? He wasn’t sure about that.
But he could now understand why she had said so.
Before coming here, Usher had assumed it would be a dignified gathering of saintesses.
He had expected discussions about the Church’s current state and future.
Instead, they were bickering the moment he arrived.
Was the Holy Church really okay like this?
Usher once again found himself grappling with a question that had arisen many times since his body had changed.
Meanwhile, the argument continued.
“You insane wench, there’s no limit to what you’ll say when I let you run your mouth.”
“You’re the insane one. You’re not progressive, not rational, just a maggot crawling through life…”
“You goddamn b****! You done talking?”
“You interrupted me, so how could I be? Are you that dumb?”
Should he intervene?
The thought crossed his mind, but Usher ultimately gave up.
For one thing, Bersia wouldn’t have done it.
And for another, it was an absolute ordeal.
Even as insults and curses flew around him, Usher had to force himself to tune it all out.
Ignoring the chaos was no easy feat.
‘Maybe I should focus on something else…’
His eyes landed on the plate of cookies on the table.
‘Should I grab one of those?’
For some reason, Bersia’s body craved sweets, and his fingers instinctively twitched toward the plate.
But he stopped himself.
- “You’ll need to lose weight, won’t you?”
“…”
The memory of her words filled him with renewed urgency.
Usher prided himself on self-discipline and sincerity.
He never indulged in snacks, maintained his body in peak condition, and easily cast aside desires through prayer.
But how had things been since his body changed?
He hadn’t been able to train properly. He had grown accustomed to the pampered environment surrounding Bersia.
While he still prayed, he rarely meditated or pondered the scriptures.
And now Bersia had the nerve to call him out for gaining weight.
‘Resist. You must resist, Usher…!’
He glared at the cookies, his gaze filled with murderous intent as if they were his mortal enemies.
So began a one-sided staring contest with the cookies.
Amid this intense focus—
“…”
“…?”
The surroundings suddenly fell silent.
Usher belatedly noticed the quiet and looked up in confusion.
Judith and Rubena were staring at him blankly.
Rubena was the first to break the silence.
“…What are you doing?”
Usher flinched, his shoulders trembling.
‘Ah!’
He realized his mistake.
Bersia would never glare at cookies and sulk over them.
Cold sweat trickled down his face.
His mind spun, searching desperately for an excuse.
And then it hit him.
‘Ah, that might work…!’
He recalled hearing once that women tended to be very conscious of their weight.
Swallowing nervously, he opened his mouth, tense as could be.
“I-I’m trying to lose weight… I’ve gained some…”
Admitting he lacked self-control was deeply humiliating.
His voice naturally grew smaller, and his earlobes burned red.
As he clenched his fists tightly—
Thud—
Judith’s pipe dropped onto the table.
Rubena’s eyes wavered, unfocused.