Don't Be Holy! - Chapter 8
‘We’ve each owed our lives to one another once, so there’s no longer any debt to settle. However, since I’m the only one who holds the path for your future, leaving you like this doesn’t sit well with me.’
Eir couldn’t fully understand the meaning of those words.
That only the old woman held the path for her future? What an arrogant statement! She didn’t even know why she had left in the first place, nor what she truly wanted.
But perhaps because she was an admired witch, the old woman hit the mark on Eir’s circumstances with startling precision.
‘It seems you’re quite skilled at using divine energy. Judging by the way it manifested in your childhood, I’d guess you became a priestess at a young age.’
‘…….’
‘And yet, being part of the Northern Purification Squad means you likely have no family to stand as a solid support for you.’
Eir’s mouth fell slightly open in disbelief. The old woman gazed at her as though piercing through her very soul, a faint smile playing on her lips.
‘Moreover, it seems you’ve fallen out of favor with those in power. It doesn’t appear to be due to a strange personality, nor do you have any influential backers that would make you a target. So why is that? There must be something peculiar about you, something you can’t easily explain.’
Eir swallowed hard.
The witch’s words were entirely accurate, leaving no room for denial. As a child orphan, she had displayed strong divine power at the tender age of seven, undergoing training and becoming a priestess early.
And then…….
In her third year as a priestess, at the very moment she bestowed her first blessing—
‘Ahhhng.’
An odd moan escaped from the one being blessed.
The recipient of the blessing was Freya Svergen, a baroness of 22 years. Eir vividly remembered her bashful face as she asked for a blessing, having just been married. She also recalled how Freya’s face flushed crimson and how she fled in a panic after the strange moan escaped her lips, leaving behind a frozen, awkward atmosphere.
The sound was unmistakable—not one of pain, but one that overflowed with uncontrollable pleasure.
Though the room fell silent with unease, the rigid order and decorum soon returned. It was easy to dismiss the incident as peculiar behavior on Freya’s part.
At first, anyway.
‘Let’s proceed with the next blessing.’
However, it wasn’t just Freya Svergen. Everyone Eir blessed after that let out similar moans of pleasure. It didn’t take long for people to realize that the issue lay not with the recipients, but with Eir herself.
Yes, her blessings evoked an orgasmic response in those who received them.
‘Isn’t this truly bizarre? Not a single blessed individual has escaped that reaction!’
‘Indeed! This isn’t a blessing, it’s an embarrassment.’
‘Can we even call her a priestess? Or is her powers a blessing?’
‘What if she’s a witch?’
‘There were stories of such individuals in the past, weren’t there?’
Unwilling to accept the existence of such a priestess, the priests and nobles alike labeled Eir a witch.
In an instant, Eir went from a promising priestess to an outcast accused of practicing strange, unnatural magic.
The old woman spoke as if she could see every moment of Eir’s disgrace unfold before her eyes.
‘At first, they would’ve all pointed fingers at you, calling you the strange one, and tried to cast you out. But surely there were people who helped you too, weren’t there?’
‘…….’
‘It’s normal for someone to face such a mess if they don’t live an utterly perfect life.’
She muttered almost to herself, as if talking about her own situation. But those words clearly applied to Eir as well.
Magnar, the high priest who had cared for Eir since her childhood, refused to let his disciple fall to such disgraceful accusations. He personally stepped forward to prove her innocence.
‘Strong divine energy inherently stirs something deep within people. In Eir’s case, it happens to awaken their centers of pleasure. But there’s no need to shun her for it. The reactions to blessings are simply part of their nature.’
For example, the blessings of Saint Nord’s priests stirred sorrow, often moving people to tears and even confessions of their sins. Meanwhile, the blessings of Saint Risland’s priests evoked pure joy and an overwhelming sense of standing in radiant light.
Magnar assured everyone that Eir’s divine power, though immature, currently awakened physical pleasure but would evolve as she matured.
When a high priest from Avalte declared this, no one—neither the priests nor the nobles—dared to oppose him. Thus, Eir was accepted once more.
