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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Battle of Wills (2)
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"Th-this isn't the time to get all emotional... is it?!"
Lete's expression was worlds apart from moments ago. She looked more desperate now, somehow.
She clearly hadn't expected me to react like this.
But I have feelings too. In other words, I get the urge to coldly shoot down desperate pleas from people I don't like.
To be precise, it's not like I extremely despised Lete Heresia...
-But too bad, Evan Lane. I will never, ever, no matter what share a bed with a thug like you!
After throwing a line like that at someone who hadn't even been thinking anything of the sort, shouldn't she just shut her mouth and take this much backlash?
Anyone overhearing might've thought I was dying to sleep with her.
"Emotional? What're you talking about?"
I shrugged innocently, brushing off Lete's bewildered stare.
"I just want my first time to be with someone I truly connect with."
A lie. I'm not some puritan who's dead set on chastity. If the chance arose and we both consented, there'd be no reason to turn down a night with a beauty like her.
That said, I had no intention of showing that hand, so I continued with feigned regret.
"We're not exactly close enough for that, are we?"
This part was true—and sincere. Lete Heresia ranked in the top 1% of annoying women in Evan Lane's twenty years of life.
We had too many similarities, and our personalities overlapped just enough to spark mutual tribal disgust from our very first meeting.
So she wasn't proposing this because she liked me either.
So what?
She was the one who had to come begging out of necessity.
Who was on the back foot here? Not me. Far from it. Lete, teetering on the edge of failing as a Saintess Candidate, was the desperate one.
I gestured arrogantly with my chin.
"If you want to mix bodies with me that badly, why not beg a little? Who knows? Grab my pant leg and cling—if you soften me up enough, I might even humor you tonight."
"Wh-what?!"
Lete's face flushed crimson in an instant. Not just embarrassment—humiliation and shame twisted her features first.
She gripped her skirt hem tight, glaring at me with fiery eyes.
"You're saying... I should bow my head and plead with you? For just one night together?"
"Just one night?"
Let's not forget, I'd be giving up my own first time too. She was being way too harsh about it.
I shot her a wounded look on purpose. Her face crumpled.
"My virginity is worth way, way more than yours...! What makes you think you can act so high and mighty?!"
"Hmm..."
I couldn't really argue with that.
Sure, a woman's first time was generally seen as far more precious than a man's.
But saying it out loud was another matter entirely—and she seemed genuinely pissed about my reaction.
Her eyes burned even hotter than usual as she raised her voice.
"Forget it! I'm not gonna grovel like some loser if that's how you wanna play it! This was supposed to benefit us both—what the hell...!"
Her rage boiled over mid-sentence, and she swung a kick at my shin. No reason not to dodge. I sidestepped effortlessly.
Lete stumbled wildly from the whiffed strike.
"...Ugh!"
Her face burned red—embarrassed, probably—as she shot me a savage glare for no good reason.
"Ugh, you slimy jerk...!"
I didn't say, You're the one who missed.
I'm not that cruel.
Anyway, deciding I wasn't worth talking to anymore, Lete kicked the ground in frustration and turned away.
She stormed off without a goodbye, muttering like some third-rate villain.
"...Just you wait. You think I can't find another guy to sleep with? When I do, I won't take you back even if you beg."
And with that, Lete was gone. I watched her retreating figure, thinking to myself.
Good luck with that.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"...This can't be happening."
Four days passed after that. And Evan's prediction had hit the mark perfectly.
Lete had scoured the Sun Church for a male priest with matching Divine Power levels.
No luck. For Divine traits to resonate, they needed to be equal—or at least close in rank. Otherwise, even attempting it was pointless...
In this vast Sun Church, there wasn't a single priest in his teens or twenties who could pull it off without her Divine Power being unilaterally drained. A true win-win. Not one.
If rank alone mattered, maybe a top-tier Holy Knight or Cardinal...
But they were all middle-aged or older.
A ten-plus-year age gap tanked the resonance efficiency. So they were off the table.
Lete had zero interest in doing that with some middle-aged guy anyway...!
"Haa."
But if things kept going like this, failing the evaluation exam was a foregone conclusion.
No matter the total Divine Power she wielded, control could only be improved through sex.
"I could ace it without that skill anyway..."
By now, Lete felt a hollow despair. No other Saintess Candidate could match her control—not even close.
At the same time, she resented the heavens.
Why had the Goddess granted her talent for the ages, only to block the path to unleashing it with thorns?
She felt utterly deflated. Lete slumped onto a bench, staring blankly at the blue sky with dead eyes.
...Deep down, she knew it was just whining. The Goddess had thrown her a lifeline.
A long time ago, even. Evan Lane. Lete squeezed her eyes shut, picturing that infuriating man's face.
Memories from four years ago replayed unbidden—ones she'd rather forget.
-Nice to meet you, Lady Heresia. I'm Evan Lane.
-What's with the formalities? Loosen up. We're the same age.
"...Ugh!"
Lete clenched her fists, trembling in fury. The day all their bad blood began.
If only she'd insisted on formal speech back then...!
She wanted to time-travel and scream, No, don't! Impossible, of course.
Forcing formality might've made things better today.
She pondered it seriously for a moment, then laughed bitterly and dismissed the idea. Evan Lane sneering at her with polite speech?
One of them would've ended up bloody long ago...
"..."
Either way, no matter how she dodged or denied it, one glaring truth remained.
Evan Lane was the only option to fix her fatal flaw.
And I'm his only answer too...
As that loathsome jerk had said, she was the desperate one now. Lete curled into a ball, accepting the bitter reality.
This was all those girls' fault from last quarter's exam.
Jealous of her top spot or not, dragging her down knowing they'd all get warnings? Overkill.
She still vividly remembered their water ghost tactic. A chill ran down her spine; Lete rubbed her arms.
There was a way to wipe the warning from her record.
But those chances came once or twice a year at most. Pure Sun Church surprise events.
In other words, barring a miracle, failing this exam meant flunking out as Saintess Candidate entirely.
"Agh... auuugh..."
Lete finally buried her face in her knees, clawing at her hair. No other solutions came to mind.
The hated thought crept in. No way around it.
She had to find Evan. Unless she was ready to abandon the Saintess seat, she had to beg him.
The mere idea was horrifying. Her skin crawled with revulsion.
But there really were no other options...
"..."
Lete stayed frozen like that, head bowed, statue-still on the bench for quite a while.
Until the sunlight faded and a chill breeze picked up.
Sweep—
Lete roughly brushed back her bangs and lifted her head. A cynical glint sharpened her eyes.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
BAM!!!
"What the fuck."
The massive crash shattered my near-sleep.
I jolted up, throwing off the blanket and sitting bolt upright.
And then—a voice that had no business being here.
"Hey, Evan."
"..."
Casual speech, uncharacteristically blunt. I creaked my head around.
Hanging doorknob. Obliterated lock.
The girl who'd probably smashed them with raw strength laced with Divine Power—Lete Heresia—glared from the darkness with glowing eyes.
"Let's fuck, you bastard."
Thud.
Her face was beet red for some reason. In her right hand: a half-empty wine bottle.