This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

{They lifted their eyes to see the Saint, bleeding and weeping.

Even the vilest and most wretched being would be loved and pitied, willingly wallowing in filth and grime, shedding tears.

To the loathsome, he would say, “You are beautiful,” for there had never been a truly beautiful being since the beginning of time.

Through this, you shall witness that the Goddess of Grace lives.}

– The Book of Grace, Chapter 51, Verse 12.

****

Had it been about three minutes since I hugged the witch tightly and patted her back?

I felt something damp on my shoulder.

The witch in my arms was crying.

I couldn’t tell if her trembling sobs were an expression of calm, gratitude, or an emotional outburst before she set the world on fire.

I hugged her even tighter.

“It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”

It wasn’t fine. Not at all.

For God’s sake, could you stop crying and calm down already?

When you cry, I can’t tell if this is the calm before the storm or a sign you’re actually settling down.

As I was half out of my mind, patting her back like a madman—

“No matter how much of a Saint you are, this isn’t right!”

“That thing is an abomination! It will bring ruin to the world!”

“It must be dealt with immediately! Saint, stand aside! We can’t let this continue!”

The priests of the White Order hurled harsh words at me.

An abomination that would bring ruin to the world.

Yeah, they were right.

She was an abomination.

But couldn’t they see I was doing my best to save their sorry lives?

You idiots!

If I don’t comfort her now, she’ll blow up!

Still on edge from my recent brush with death, I snapped back at the priests, glaring.

If I wanted to survive, I had to side with the witch no matter what.

“And why do you call her an abomination?”

The priests, exasperated, pointed at the witch and shouted.

“She is an abomination, Saint! An abomination!”

“Look at those spider-like four arms, that grotesque, twisted left face, and those hideous eyes!”

“It’s not some rare disease! She is cursed and made monstrous!”

“She will bring ruin to the world!”

These lunatics!

She can hear you!

What are you going to do if she explodes?!

I roared, furious.

“Are you calling her an abomination because she’s ugly? Are you seriously destroying a person’s soul and life over something as trivial as that?”

Still holding the witch, I stood up.

Maybe it was the desperation of being on the brink of death, but my voice exploded with an intensity even I found terrifying.

A primal, desperate bellow to stay alive.

“What is truly ugly?! Is something ugly just because its appearance is twisted and grotesque? No! That’s not ugliness! True ugliness lies within your hearts!”

I turned to the citizens who had been throwing filth and jeering.

“You who throw filth and destroy a person’s life and soul based solely on their appearance—you are far uglier!”

I turned to the laughing mages and witches and shouted at them.

“You who giggle and chatter as someone is destroyed, treating it as a joke—you are far uglier! And!”

Finally, I faced the priests of the White Order.

“You who shout about hunting evil while your hands are stained with the blood of the innocent—you are the ugliest of all!”

The priests recoiled, stepping back.

With a voice like that, I’d be scared too.

Honestly, I had no idea what I’d just said.

It was more like a frantic outburst to avoid death.

“...A cursed appearance doesn’t happen naturally. It is a mark of divine punishment, Saint.”

“Indeed. If she’s allowed to live, she will undoubtedly become a future threat. A grave one, Saint.”

“Leaving an abomination alive puts the Empire in danger. We are acting to save everyone.”

The priests stammered, their responses hesitant.

Well, they weren’t entirely wrong.

What they said made sense.

The Order, famous for hunting demons, really had a knack for pinpointing their targets.

How had they found this dark witch and gotten her into custody?

But if I let her lose control now, everyone would die.

“If there are gods who curse, then surely there must also be gods who lift curses.”

I had to stop the priests from pushing further.

And how could I do that?

Sticking to my original plan, though it had gone slightly awry.

I’d fix her face.

“And where there is a god who curses, there is a god who grants mercy.”

Gently, I placed my hand on the witch’s head.

And activated my skill.

[Skill: Body Modification activated!]

The familiar customization window appeared.

A 3D model of the witch’s body displayed her current state.

Having modified countless impoverished people, I navigated the window with ease.

Slowly, I began to alter her body.

I removed the pair of arms protruding from her sides.

I erased the hideous burn scars disfiguring her left face.

And I eliminated the clusters of grotesque eyes.

When I had finished cleaning everything up, there was nothing left to fix.

Her original form had been an exceptional beauty, and with the modifications, she became strikingly gorgeous—enough to make anyone lose their mind.

“Ack! Ugh! …Argh!”

The witch groaned, making strange noises during the process.

I was used to this.

People often reacted like that when their muscles and bones were being reshaped.

But why was light starting to burst from her body?

What was this?

Why was light pouring out of her body?!

The moment the modification finished, a brilliant light exploded from her body, so dazzling it felt like being blinded.

When the light subsided, a breathtakingly beautiful woman was left sitting in the muddy ground.

“Good heavens!”

“My god, Dulaenae!”

The priests of the White Order collapsed in astonishment.

"Saint! Saint!"

"It's a miracle! You've performed another miracle!"

The impoverished people fell to their knees, bowing toward me.

"Rofus…"

"I swear upon the sun, I have never seen a truer saint."

"The Goddess of Grace truly lives."

The paladins of the Sun Church also made the sign of the cross and respectfully bowed their heads to me.

It must have been because of that final burst of light.

Honestly, even to me, it felt like a genuine miracle.

I slowly looked over the witch.

Hmm!

She was stunning!

Perfect!

She had the kind of beauty that could debut as a top-tier idol in Korea right now!

This should be enough treatment, right?

I didn’t think there would be any more outbursts. Please, let there be none.

“Whether it was a curse, an illness, or the countless wounds inflicted upon you by others, they are gone now. Woman, sin no more and live righteously.”

The witch touched her left cheek, her fingers trembling. Then, she looked up at me, tears streaming silently down her face.

It worked.

Seeing her now, these were tears of gratitude.

Yes!

Now that I’ve healed her, she can’t possibly explode, right?

“You are beautiful. Truly.”

I smiled at the witch as I said those words.

With lip service like this, there shouldn’t be any more problems.

The healing was complete.

All that was left was to quietly disappear before the Lilia Church arrived in the capital.

****

Erfa touched her left cheek.

The grotesque, lumpy sensation of her disfigured eye clusters was gone, replaced by smooth skin.

Everything was exactly as she had dreamed.

A human form.

She no longer had four arms, nor the hideous eyes that had covered her face.

Uncontrollable tears began to flow.

Up until a moment ago, she hadn’t trusted the man before her.

She, a genius among geniuses, had tried for years to change her appearance to no avail.

How could the man in front of her have succeeded in an instant?

She had thought it impossible.

She had been wrong.

An inexplicable magical phenomenon had transformed her body.

The additional arms disappeared, and her distorted face returned to normal.

At the moment of transformation, she had been so astonished and overjoyed that she had lost control of her magic, releasing a blinding flash of light.

Even as she touched her face, she couldn’t believe it.

Slowly, Erfa stood.

She gazed at the man before her.

He smiled gently, his head bleeding from a wound.

Yet even the sight of his blood seemed sacred.

Just standing there, he radiated a holiness so intense that meeting his gaze was difficult.

She finally understood why the impoverished called him a saint.

He had performed a miracle.

It wasn’t just that he had changed her appearance, something even the most advanced magic couldn’t accomplish.

If she had used her knowledge of the Study of the Primary Colors, she might have been able to change her body eventually.

But even if she had managed that, it wouldn’t have erased the twisted hatred and resentment buried deep in her heart.

It wouldn’t have caused those who once mocked her grotesque face to now look at her with awe and reverence.

The man before her had done all that in a single, effortless moment.

He had solved problems that she had believed were insurmountable through human effort.

Her heart began to race uncontrollably.

Erfa had never once in her life experienced love.

She had been hideous.

Repulsive and filthy.

There had been a few men who approached her because of her right side, but they left the moment they saw her left.

So, she had killed her emotions and convinced herself that love was not meant for her.

She had buried herself in research, living as a recluse.

But now, everything had changed.@@novelbin@@

“Your name. I want to know your name.”

Erfa grasped the saint’s sleeve with trembling hands, her face flushed red.

“I am merely one who cares for the lowly, witch.”

The saint smiled and gently tried to free his hand.

But she wouldn’t let go.

“Please… please tell me your name.”

She held his hand firmly as she stepped closer.

Her actions made the saint tremble.

His hands shook like leaves in the wind, and cold sweat dripped from them.

Erfa understood what this was.

She had read about such physical symptoms appearing in priests after they used powerful miracles.

She had even studied miracles herself to try to heal her body.

For the man to have performed such an extraordinary miracle—something even she, a magical genius, couldn’t do—the strain on his body must have been immense.

And seeing the blood trickling from his forehead, it was possible he had an infection.

“The saint is trembling! It’s the aftereffects of the miracle!”

At Erfa’s exclamation, the paladins of the Sun Church and the priests of the White Order sprang into action.

“Is it divine revelation?”

“Yes! It’s divine revelation! He’s sweating and trembling! He must rest!”

“Rofus! You’ve cared for so many of the impoverished…”

“Quickly! Prepare a place for him to rest! If we leave divine revelation untreated, the consequences could be disastrous!”

At her words, the Sun Church and White Order moved as one.

“The Sun Church is closest! I will guide us!”

“Saint, please allow me to carry you!”

A paladin hoisted him onto his back, and Erfa and the White Order priests followed close behind.

“Make way for the saint! Move aside!”

The impoverished parted, clearing a path as the paladins swiftly carried the saint forward.

Erfa followed closely behind.

Her face, once consumed by thoughts of her appearance, no longer cared about such trivial matters.

Now, her entire world revolved around the man being carried ahead.

The man who had kissed the left side of her face—the side even she found revolting.

"Live. You are beautiful."

The saint’s words echoed vividly in her mind.

As she ran breathlessly, Erfa’s face grew hot, as if it might explode.

One thing was certain: this flush wasn’t from exertion.