Chapter 168 Sleep-talking

Chapter 168: 168 Sleep-talking

The moment Violet first drifted off into sleep, Christia had no intention of waking her immediately. Instead, seeing the state she was in, she decided to let the Saintess take a nap for about thirty minutes.

It was painfully obvious, after all.

Anyone could see it—as if she were wearing a sign that screamed ’I haven’t slept.’ Except for prayer times, she had been yawning incessantly throughout the morning’s schedule, her head bobbing and swaying like a sangmo dancer as she fought to stay upright.

It didn’t take someone like Christia—who served Violet closest and constantly checked her health—to notice. Any observer would have realized that Violet had suffered through a restless night.

Christia herself could march for three days and nights without food or drink and only feel mild fatigue, but Violet’s physical capabilities were, at best, slightly superior to an average civilian.

In essence, she was just a civilian with Holy Power inside her. She felt hunger like them, and she felt exhaustion just like them.

Furthermore, the weather today was conspiring against her.

It wasn’t scorching hot, nor was it the deceptive sunlight of winter that offered no warmth. It was as if the Goddess herself had decreed that no one should work today, blessing the land with the kind of perfect, drowsy warmth that encouraged afternoon naps.

It was a fantastic day, one where a knight might consider their eyelids, rather than an enemy soldier, to be their greatest adversary.

And the Saintess, who hadn’t slept properly, had been exposed to this perfect, lethargic sunlight for hours since the morning. It was no wonder she had fallen into such a deep slumber.

Of course, as mentioned before, there were documents lined up on her desk regarding the upcoming Holy Birth Festival that required approval by the end of the day.

But while others might not know, Christia was well aware that Violet had recently endured a series of mentally taxing events. She had no desire to disturb this brief respite.

Thus, intending to let her rest undisturbed, Christia turned to walk out of the office door.

"Haaahn..."

"S-Saintess?"

Just as Christia’s gauntleted hand grasped the doorknob, Violet’s voice leaked out as if it had been waiting for this exact moment.

Wondering if something was wrong, Christia began to turn her head back toward Violet—only to freeze completely as a strange scent drifted into her nostrils.

’This is...?’

It was a familiar scent. No, it was familiar, yet somehow different—a smell she couldn’t quite pin down with words, but one thing was certain: it was a scent that absolutely must not be detected by others!

Violet was supposed to be napping, wasn’t she?

Unlike the revelation the Goddess had shown her previously, there had been no prior omens. She was definitely sleeping.

So why?

’Why are her hands on her breasts...?’

Christia had only looked away for a moment, yet now Violet was letting out sweet, muffled moans just as she did in the bathhouse. Not only that, but she was pressing her hands against the sides of her beautiful, water-droplet-shaped tits, squeezing and kneading them as if trying to compress something out.

Sleep-talking.

The breath that carried a strange, feverish heat and the way she was firmly pressing down on her breasts were certainly different from normal sleep habits, but the way her mouth twitched and puckered cutely in between suggested it was, without a doubt, a dream.

That part wasn’t the problem.

Sleep-talking? Even Christia had embarrassed herself before, waking up to find she had kicked off her blankets and assumed a combat stance, ready to draw her sword.

But this smell was the problem.

The intense scent of violets she had smelled in the Holy Bath—the scent that had left deep traces within her own body—was filling the room. This aroma, which made her own womb twitch and clench, was something others must never know about.

’I just need to leave. I’ll wait outside the office door until the Saintess wakes from her nap. Just stand guard, and when she wakes up...’

"N-no... Nooooo..."

"Ungh..."

Just listening to those whimpers, Christia could guess exactly what kind of dream the Saintess was having.

If she stayed here and the Saintess woke up, Christia herself wouldn’t mind, but judging by the smell, it was obvious what was happening to Violet’s body. It was humiliatingly clear.

If she remained and Violet opened her eyes, the awkwardness would be unbearable.

’I just need to guard the perimeter until the Saintess wakes up and cleans up the fluids soaking her surroundings. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Just go out and...’

But at that moment, another thought struck Christia’s mind.

’But what if something happens to the Saintess in the meantime? What if someone climbs through that window? Even if I guard the door... No, I can’t be certain that’s enough.’

It happened sometimes.

People like the ones who would barge in claiming an emergency just as she was setting up a perimeter outside.

Life was unpredictable. She could vow to guard with an iron defense, but even the Goddess couldn’t predict when or where some rude intruder might ignore her warnings and burst in.

’If I stay here, I feel like I won’t be able to control myself... but I can’t leave the Saintess alone! What in the world should I do...!’

The female knight agonized, repeating the question to herself hundreds, thousands of times in a span of less than ten seconds. But then, Christia’s eyes landed on something.

’The lock!’

A locking mechanism that could only be engaged from the inside. To open it from the outside, one would have to break the door down or use the key that only Violet possessed.

Reason screamed at her to ignore the lock and just get out. It told her not to regret this later, to just stand outside and beat down anyone who approached.

Yes, even she knew that was the correct choice.

"Haaahhn..."

Clack—

But the moment she heard that sweet, wet moan from behind her back...

Christia bit her lip hard. Her hand had already reached out and turned the lock. Her body had already turned back toward Violet, who was trembling, pressing down on her own heaving chest.

’What... what the hell am I doing...?!’

This was not a result of rational thought. It was her body, led by the memories ingrained within it, dragged by the scent of violets, moving on its own accord.

Clack-clack-clack—

Unless that was the case, there was no reason for her feet to move so urgently toward the Saintess, as if her boots were on fire.

The closer she got, the stronger the violet scent became. And the moment she saw the stain spreading on the Saintess’s chest—specifically centering around the gap between her index and middle fingers, which were splayed as if targeting a specific spot—

Finally, her nose broke free of her control. Like a dog catching the scent of a bone, she craved the sweet aroma wafting from that forbidden place.

’I should just wake the Saintess... No, no. I can’t be certain she’s having the kind of dream I’m imagining. And as I said, she’s been mentally stressed. As a Crusader, I shouldn’t disturb her r-rest...’

There was an easy solution, but Christia, already drunk on the violet pheromones, was rambling gibberish, unaware of what she was even saying.

’S-Should I open the window? No. At this hour, civilians are visiting the church to offer prayers or perform service. They can’t see in from the outside, but if I open the window and attract attention, it would be a disaster.’

The Saintess continued to exude that thick female smell, filling the office with her pheromones. To make matters worse, Holy Milk was leaking from her chest.

It was a desperate situation.

Christia’s hand was already moving toward her own skirt. She knew, with absolute certainty, that she could not stop this hand.

Therefore, she should have gone outside to breathe fresh air and wait for the situation to resolve. But surprisingly, there was not a trace of panic on Christia’s face.

’Yes, it was for this moment! The Goddess gave me this item to overcome this very trial!’

To prevent her from harboring wicked thoughts that went against providence! To keep her from committing the sin of going into heat over Violet’s scent! The Goddess had bestowed these boxer shorts upon her for this very purpose!

It was precisely for such an unforeseen emergency that she had hidden the man’s underwear given by the Goddess in the storage compartment on the back of her shield!

Like someone covering their nose and mouth with a wet towel during a fire, Christia hurriedly pulled the boxer shorts from her shield’s compartment to protect her respiratory system (?) from Violet’s intense sow-scent. She pressed the fabric firmly over her nose and mouth.

And with impeccable timing, her gauntlet—which had already torn through her black pantyhose in an instant—was shoving her own panties aside.

Now that it had come to this, Christia abandoned all attempts to control the hand that was molesting her own pussy. Instead, she resolved to secure her only lifeline: these boxer shorts.

Like the head-visors worn by other Crusaders, she completely covered her face, except for her eyes, with the gauntlet pressing the underwear against her nose and mouth.

Squelch— Schlick—

’Huuu... I am... I am getting aroused by the scent of a male... Sniiiiiff... The Saintess is right in front of me, but... Haaah... I am absolutely not getting aroused by the smell of the Saintess’s p-pussy or her milk.’

A chaotic collaboration: The Saintess, unexpectedly kneading her tits and spewing milk while moaning in her office, and the Crusader standing behind her, face buried in a man’s underwear, fingering her own wet cunt.

Schlick-schlick—

Sniiiiiff, haaaa—

Sniiiiiff, haaaa—

As her fingers made louder, wetter squelching noises, Christia’s breathing behind her panty-mask grew heavier.

’Ahhh... What kind of madness is this? Even if it is to protect the Saintess... to do such a depraved thing behind her back...! No, no! If a similar situation happens again, will I leave my post every time?’

Though blasphemous, she decided that relieving her urges coolly like this to clear her mind was the far better judgment.

Did the Goddess not predict this situation and give her this male underwear—reeking of the musky scent of chestnut flowers—for this very reason?

Anyone else would call it insane logic. But Christia genuinely believed she was overcoming this crisis through Violet’s female scent, the item the Goddess gave her, and her own faith.

’Sniiiiiff, haaah... Perhaps because I’m thinking about sticking my fingers in my p-pussy... in broad daylight... right behind the Saintess who is spraying milk... I feel strangely more sensitive...’

Precisely, it was the immense immorality of fingering herself behind the master she served without her knowing. But Christia, who accepted even this as faith and the Goddess’s guidance, had no way of knowing that.

****

About twenty minutes passed like that.

"Mmn..."

Finally, knowing or not knowing that a time which felt like an eternity to a certain Crusader had passed (though it wasn’t actually that long), Violet began to stir.

Feeling the discomfort of her completely soaked dress and the strange sensation of a human shadow looming over her instead of the warm sunlight, Violet’s eyelids fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Christia?"

"Yes, Saintess. Please speak."

"Uhm, by chance... how long was I asleep?"

Did she sleep too long? Aside from sleeping hours, Christia never left her side. If she had slept for two or three hours, it was obvious Christia would have been standing there the whole time.

"Exactly thirty minutes."

"Ah..."

She hadn’t slept as long as she thought.

Unlike her own anxious heart, worried she might have caused a huge inconvenience, she was relieved that not much time had passed.

"Christia’s voice sounds a bit softer than usual... is it just my imagination?"

It sounded incredibly satisfied, or perhaps fulfilled. And was that a strange smell? Just as she was about to turn her head to ask Christia about it...

"Aaah?! W-why am I all wet?!"

"You were tossing and turning quite a bit. I suspect it is sweat... For now, I have wiped some of it away, so Saintess, you should..."

"Sweat? My breasts keep aching for it to be just sweat... Ah?"

Breasts? At the mention of breasts, Violet tilted her head, feeling as though she was on the verge of remembering the dream she had. But the more she tried to think about it, the more she recalled herself groping her own chest and felt a strange sense of deprivation.

’...I can’t remember, but I must have had a very strange dream.’

"I shall order the bathwater to be prepared."

Clack-clack—

"Yes, I’m sorry! I’ll finish up quickly, so please trouble yourself for a... huh?"

"Is something the matter?"

"N-no! Nothing..."

"Then, I will return shortly."

Christia bowed deeply and immediately opened the door to leave. Watching her go, Violet tilted her head again, feeling that something was definitely odd.

’Christia... why wasn’t she wearing stockings today?’

She wore them every single day without fail. Did she forget today? And why did Violet feel inexplicably irritated every time she looked down at her own breasts?

"Ughhh... I don’t know! I need to organize these urgent documents first!"

Deciding she couldn’t waste any more time, Violet clenched her two small fists determinedly and buried herself in the paperwork.

Completely failing to notice the corner of the water-free office, where a pair of panties soaked in someone’s love juices and torn stockings lay abandoned.