Saint's Prison - Chapter 106

What Should Remain

―Stonehurst Monastery.

The place into which I’ve wandered.

I’m not sure if “wandered” is the right word. Was I called, or was I brought here? But that’s a trivial matter. No matter the process, the result is that I’m here. That’s all that matters.

I shake off the unnecessary thoughts. For now, I decide to unravel the relationship between Amal and the monastery.

Amal… Amalthea.

A girl with silver hair down to her waist and crimson eyes.

Despite being 15 years old, she appears far more mature than her age due to her dignified presence. With a delicate and soft body, the comfort of holding her is unmatched. Especially the feeling of those ample breasts… no, what am I thinking about? This is not the time to be imagining Amal’s body. I slap my loosened cheeks.

―Nn, cough.

Amal is a nun at Stonehurst. However, she is treated by the other monks as if she doesn’t exist.

Firstly, why was she treated that way by the priests?

(A horrific past in which a village that believed in paganism was burned down. A monastery was built on the ruined land by Caerum Stonehurst, a Perigrinus. The reason why he dared to build a monastery in this land is to keep secrets out. To prevent leaks and to build a prison to lock Amal in)

…No, saying the monastery was built to imprison Amal might not be quite accurate. The monastery’s construction is a tale from long before now. Amal hadn’t even been born yet.

As I thought this far, suddenly the words Amal spoke before flashed back in my mind.

“―Our existence is terribly ambiguous, and nobody wanted to know or wished to understand. The world is dark and gray, shadows stretch and writhe endlessly. I sing for the nightmare, waiting for her awakening. This is my place. Our world.”

I had never paid attention to it before, but Amal sometimes used the term “we”. Who else, apart from Amal, might she have been describing with this “we”?

(Amal lived in solitude, never interacting with the monks. It could be her deceased sister she’s referring to. Or perhaps, other family members…)

I let out a breath.

I noticed my palm was sweaty from unconsciously clenching it. I massaged the space between my brows to ease the tension before refocusing.

Amal’s family.
Her twin sister.
Then, her parents, grandparents. And even more distant ancestors.

(…Wait a second)

If “we” refers to Amal’s bloodline, could it be that they have been imprisoned within the depths of Stonehurst for generations?

Releasing the bloodline to the outside would violate the vow to protect the secret. However, that blood must surely be preserved. In that case, there’s a need to summon a pilgrim, a foreigner. And that role was bestowed upon the current pilgrim, me, Takashi Ando.

The real reasons for the death of Amal’s sister, the absence of her parents, are actually unknown to me. But, I think, within the monastery, all that’s needed is one person to inherit Amalthea’s blood and pass it on to the next generation. In fact, no one else might be necessary. What if that was the consideration?

So they/she/he―

“…Kuro-dono.”

“Eh, whoa――!?”

Startled by the voice that calls out to me, I lose my balance and nearly fall. Desperately trying to regain my footing, I’m too slow. I feel a sense of weightlessness and the blood drains from my face.

Come to think of it, I was sitting on the edge of a well. I’m about to fall.

With a sense of detachment, a dry laugh escapes me. Humans really are creatures that laugh when they have no choice but to give up.

“Kuro-dono!”

A shout echoes.

Ah, that’s right. That’s Johanna’s voice. As I realize this, I’m yanked up with a strong force. I fall to the ground from the momentum, bracing for impact with the hard earth… but instead, something soft cushions my fall, and I’m saved from harm.

“Kuro-dono, are you alright!?”

Looking up, I see Johanna holding me tightly, gazing at me with concern. Ah, that soft something was Johanna’s… no, no. I shake my head to dispel any improper thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for saving me, Johanna.”

“No, I should apologize. It was my fault for startling you so suddenly. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

Johanna smiles. I find myself smiling too.

“So, Johanna. Did you need something from me?”

“Well, not particularly.”

“You don’t say!”

“…Is it wrong to speak to someone without a reason?”

Her shoulders droop, exuding an air of loneliness. Ah, stop it. I’m a sucker for that kind of atmosphere, Jesus.

“No, it’s not like that. Feel free to talk to me anytime!”

“When you say it like that, for some reason, I don’t feel like speaking.”

“…Are you teasing me right now?”

“What else would I be doing?”

She raises an eyebrow slightly, laughing at me. Damn, she’s totally playing with me.

“Just because you’re beautiful, don’t get too cocky!”

“Is that a roundabout way of complimenting me?”

“No! Ah, this is so frustrating. All the things I was pondering just flew out of my head!”

“…Fufu. Well, that’s good to hear.”

Her voice is gentle.

Just hearing it almost brings me to tears. Listening to it, I realize Johanna was genuinely concerned about me. She must have seen the despair on my face and called out because she was worried.

…Such an awkward, but heartfelt gesture. It’s embarrassing yet pleasing. With these complicated feelings, I manage to utter a word to disguise them.

“Johanna, you know. You really dress in a way that doesn’t show off your figure.”

“Eh? …Dress slim… ah, uh… hyaa!”

Seconds later, Johanna, having understood my words, quickly puts distance between us. Wow, her reflexes are impressive.

“K-kuro-dono, you idiot!”

Her face turns bright red as she clutches her chest with both hands, trying to cover herself. Her youthful, adorable expression is healing to me. I’m truly hopeless… or is this outright sexual harassment?

I let my thoughts go that far and then decide to stop thinking any further.