Chapter 145: 145 A Lonely Battle
At that very moment, while Violet fought her lonely battle...
’Haaah... haaah... ha... heeehh...’
"Saintess...?"
Christia, who was standing guard over Violet, was growing restless as she watched the Saintess stagger and pant, breathing out scorching, ragged breaths.
She was caught in a dilemma: if she held onto Violet, she wouldn’t be able to focus on guarding her; but if she focused solely on guarding, she feared Violet would wobble again and crack her head open on the stone floor.
’Just what are you witnessing? What sort of trial has He bestowed upon you to cause such suffering...?’
If Violet, who was currently watching the filthy, depraved public mating show between Rafe and Eleonora via her divine link, had heard this, she might have let out a sigh of relief that she was the only one capable of communicating with the Goddess.
Of course, Christia—a mere Crusader—had no way of knowing this. She could only stomp her feet in anxiety, waiting for Violet’s consciousness to return.
’Huuuugh...?!’
’Oh no!?’
Clang! Thud—!
And inevitably, just as Christia scanned the surroundings for a brief second, the Saintess’s body swayed dangerously and began to tip over. Christia immediately threw aside the sword and shield in her hands and carefully caught Violet’s collapsing form.
’This won’t do.’
She had been told it was a divine revelation, so she expected to just pass on a message and be done with it. But it had already been thirty minutes. Usually, a revelation or oracle lasted ten minutes at most. This was clearly an abnormal phenomenon.
’Please be careful...’
’Haaah... don’t, d-don’t do thaaat...?!’
Violet couldn’t hear her, but Christia muttered the words anyway, looking down at the Saintess whose face was flushed crimson as she gasped in agony.
’...I can’t let this continue.’
Although she could not intervene between the Saintess and the Goddess, she was the Goddess’s sword and the Saintess’s shield. She couldn’t lessen the pain, but she had to be a sanctuary where the Saintess could return safely.
Support the Saintess so she doesn’t collapse.
Perfectly fulfill the duty of guarding the Saintess.
If she couldn’t achieve both, how could she call herself the Commander of the Crusaders serving Violet?
Her resolve was swift, and her actions had already begun. Christia started to unfasten the breastplate of her snow-white plate armor—specifically, the cuirass that featured cups molded perfectly to the shape of her own breasts.
First to fall from her hands were the shoulder guards, adorned with the cape bearing the red cross on a white background, the symbol of the Goddess’s Crusaders.
It was a necessary step to remove the cuirass.
With her gauntlets already cast aside and her shoulders bare, she was now completely sleeveless.
Now, all she had to do was undo the belt connecting the front and back of the cuirass...
’Ugh...’
However, her hand hesitated at the belt.
If she took this off, she would be, in common terms, semi-nude. Topless. Her upper body would be naked. Usually, she wore a black bodysuit or tights underneath, but...
The weather had been sweltering lately. The feeling of sweat trapped against her skin was unpleasant, and besides, her breasts needed all the space they could get inside the fitted armor.
In short, for various reasons, removing this cuirass meant she would be stark naked from the waist up. Naturally, as a woman, she hesitated.
’Showing my breasts is nothing, but to expose my... n-navel...!’
But her internal conflict was short-lived. As the Saintess staggered again, Christia immediately ripped open her belt without further hesitation.
’Yes, what does it matter if my belly button is seen?’
Clatter.
As the belt connecting the front and back came undone, the cuirass encasing Christia’s body fell away, revealing her snow-white upper body without a shred of concealment.
Her shapely, massive breasts—only slightly smaller than Eleonora—jiggled heavily. Her two pink peaks stiffened, lifting their heads erect in the cool air.
Christia paid them no mind. She immediately approached Violet and knelt before her, matching her eye level.
She then gently wrapped her hands around the back of Violet’s head and guided it to her bare bosom.
’Ugh... The S-Saintess’s body against my bare tits...?!’
She had braced herself for this, but she still felt a mix of awe and shame. Was it the honor of serving her liege, or the embarrassment of being so disrespectfully semi-nude in this sacred chapel?
’Haaah...’
’Hiiiic...?!’
Christia flinched instinctively as scorching breath erupted from the Saintess’s mouth, blowing hot against her cleavage. But she ignored the sensation of the hot air washing over her sensitive nipples.
After ensuring Violet was fully leaning against her bare chest, she reached out and grabbed the sword and shield rolling on the floor to fulfill her duty.
Exposing her breasts or navel to someone... if it was for Violet’s safety, she could show it all.
Hadn’t she taken it off with that very resolve?
Christia bit her lip so hard her molars ground together, feeling the heavy weight of the weapon in her hand.
Never. No matter what happened, she would not leave this spot. Even if the world ended right now, Christia stood guard with the intensity of one ready to face the apocalypse alongside Violet.
But did she know?
That the true enemy was right there, in her arms.
’Haaah... Hiiiiinnngh... Hueeeeeh...’
"S-Saintess, wait... a mome—nt...?!’
Because Violet was using her breasts as a cushion, the scorching breath pouring from her mouth flowed down Christia’s sternum and pooled directly into her navel.
But if it were just breath, she could endure it.
The problem was that Violet wasn’t just exhaling hot air.
’Haahm... Slurp... Mmmnh...’
’Hup... Saintess... please... if you bite my tits like thaaaaat...?!’
As soon as she exhaled the hot breath, Violet opened her mouth and began to bite down on Christia’s breast. At first, Christia tilted her head at the faint pain, but...
As time passed and the Saintess’s head shook against her chest, the sensations radiating from her mounds made her realize that Violet was biting, and occasionally sucking, on her flesh.
She just clenched her jaw and endured it.
’Ah... just what is happening? For the Saintess to be in such distress... the only thing I can do is offer this humble body to catch her...’
What terrible future was she seeing? What threat was approaching that caused her such agony?
Was the pain so great that the Saintess, who always saved them with a benevolent smile like the Goddess herself, didn’t even realize she was biting another person’s flesh...?
Schlick, Suuuuck...
The wet sound echoed through the chapel.
It was the sound of the Saintess sucking on the mound of flesh she had clamped her mouth onto.
Christia glanced around cautiously, then bowed her head to gently pull Violet away and correct her posture, fearing the Saintess was doing something shameful.
But the moment she checked Violet’s condition, Christia had no choice but to put down her sword.
’Saintess...!’
She was completely soaked. A moment ago, she looked as if she had just finished a light workout, but now she was drenched, as if she had been standing under a scorching sun for hours.
Her legs twitched as if in discomfort, and beads of sweat rolled down her neck, pooling into her ample, heaving breasts.
Christia dared to reach out for her clothes, intending to loosen the collar of her dress to let some heat escape and cool her down.
’Saintess... your chest...?!’
Why was her chest area uniquely, excessively wet? As she lifted the collar, something caught her eye on Violet’s breasts.
From those cute, pink nipples... a pure white, creamy liquid—something that should never seep from the body of a chaste virgin—was oozing out, drop by drop.
’Haaah... haaah...’
Breast milk? No, since it was the Saintess’s milk, should it be called Holy Milk?
’Why is this...? No, I’ve heard of this somewhere. Depending on a person’s constitution, there are cases where even unmarried virgins produce milk.’
She could vouch for the Saintess’s purity. As the Crusader who had served Violet since childhood, she had watched her grow up with her own eyes.
But right now, the Saintess’s purity wasn’t the issue.
’A-Again...! My chest is getting hot again... something is...?!’
Just like when she first observed the anomaly with the Saintess—when she had inhaled that thick, musky scent—a surge of arousal, incomparable to before, began to pound against her heart and make her hands twitch.
It was an uncontrollable trembling, like the urge one feels to reach out when seeing a cute puppy or kitten.
’Mmmnh... Schlick...’
’I-I must... stop her...’
Gulp...
Christia carefully cupped the Saintess’s chin, intending to correct her posture quickly. She planned to make her rest her forehead against her cleavage again, stopping her from biting or sucking on her breast meat any further.
But why?
Why were her hands—hands that could easily wield a heavy greatsword—trembling so violently as she held that chin?
Why?
Why were her golden eyes, which always sought fair justice, darting back and forth between her own pink nipple and the Saintess’s lips?
Gulp...!
Once again, the fragrant scent of violets filled Christia’s nose. As the image of the Saintess with her violet hair and closed eyes reflected in the Crusader’s unwavering golden pupils...
’Mmmnh...’
’!!’
The Saintess’s tightly shut eyelids began to flutter open.
Comments