At a certain pig farm, just as a man and a woman were locked in a frenzy of beastial, carnal sex...
Somewhere far away from there.
A place where brilliant, beautiful light filtered through colorful stained glass depicting a benevolent Goddess, illuminating a statue of that very same Goddess carved with a gentle white smile, surrounded by pillars of ancient, pristine marble.
As one might expect, two women stood amidst this mysterious atmosphere, filled with a pious and holy reverence dedicated to serving their deity.
Each of them was a flower of exceptional beauty, women so lovely that even the moon in the night sky might hide its face in shame before their radiance.
"Ah...!?“
Beneath the statue of the benevolent Goddess, the woman with light purple hair, who had been offering prayers with her hands clasped together, suddenly trembled and let out a small gasp.
Standing behind her, silently watching over her prayer with steadfast loyalty, was a woman in armor with a silver ponytail. She immediately rushed toward her charge.
"Saintess?"
"Just now... two more brothers have left to Her side."
"!"
The Saintess—a woman with long, half-twintails cascading down to her ankles—lifted the translucent white veil covering her face to wipe away her tears. At her tear-choked words, the silver-haired female knight groaned, her body trembling just as the Saintess's had moments ago.
"...In the end, those two brothers have also departed to Her side."
Two brothers. It was tragic news regarding the Crusaders—those who called themselves the Goddess's swords and served the Saintess most closely among all the believers of the Goddess Church, the state religion of the continent.
For a moment, the Saintess made the sign of the cross to mourn the two brothers, offering a silent prayer before speaking with her head bowed toward the Goddess statue.
"That makes four... Four brothers who left for the foothills of the Black Mountain under my orders..."
"They were men prepared to gladly offer their lives to destroy evil and protect the light and justice She bestowed upon this land. And... I was the one who selected them and gave the order..."
The foothills of the Black Mountain, located at the northern tip of the continent. It was where the Goddess, who created this continent and molded life in the beginning, first descended. But now, it was being defiled by the hands of a wicked group—a holy land that the Goddess Church had to reclaim at all costs.
And there, no fewer than four brothers had left for the Goddess's side.
Under normal circumstances, Christia, the silver-haired woman here, should have been guarding this sacred place.
However, due to the disappearance of the continent's only Grand Master, and to verify the oracle directly given by the Goddess, Holy Knights had been sent on a reconnaissance mission to the Black Mountain foothills.
Unfortunately, they encountered the wicked horde—remnants who had survived the last Great Purge and were moving north—resulting in two killed in action, martyred in a distant land.
According to reports, that wicked group consisted mostly of those who had been swept away during the last operation, barely escaping extinction and showing a pathetic, weak force.
Although their leader was indeed an extremely dangerous existence, having inflicted great damage on friendly forces during the last Great Purge...
Considering the aftermath of the injuries sustained during the last operation, as well as the hunger and fatigue from a long-term escape, the leader should have been an opponent the Crusaders could sufficiently defeat, even if his skills were superior to theirs.
But do they not say a cornered rat will bite a cat?
To think that not only did he kill two brothers, but he also managed to lead his pack and escape!
The remaining two brothers who survived that battle reported that they would pursue the bastard, after which contact was lost. And today, a few days later, they too had departed to the Goddess's side, just like the brothers before them.
It was her mistake.
She should have dispatched support troops immediately from the moment the report of the enemy's discovery came in.
Although unlike the Kingdom, the Church has no regular soldiers, she should have had the Crusaders—each a warrior worth a hundred men—support their brothers.
Now, a total of eight brothers—twice the original number—had set out to at least recover the bodies of the remaining four, so they should arrive there soon.
If she had her way, the silver-haired woman would have gone herself. But she was the one who had to serve and protect the woman before her eyes, the Saintess, from the closest distance.
Although she had a sacred duty as the Commander that prevented her from leaving the Saintess's side unless the Saintess herself moved...
To think she had to stand by and watch her brothers die!
But what on earth happened? Although the enemy killed two brothers, the fact that he fled to avoid fighting afterward meant he had no strength left to fight.
It meant he ran away sensing his defeat.
Although they were a tenacious breed, it would be natural since they hadn't eaten or received proper medical treatment.
If a fight drags on, that is the shortcut to defeat—literally, inevitable failure.
That meant the highest probability was that someone else's hand had reached out, not just that group...
The silver-haired female knight suddenly thought of another wicked group living near the Black Mountain foothills.
'Could it be the Barbarians from beyond the foothills? Did they already ally with that wicked group and...!'
If it were the violent Barbarians—beasts who coveted this fertile land from the frozen lands beyond the Black Mountain foothills—it was possible.
Historically, they had allied with that wicked group several times to threaten this land.
Above all, in that place was Urga, the Barbarian Princess called the only adversary and rival of the strongest female knight, Eleonora Croft, who was currently missing. Urga had clashed swords with Eleonora countless times and survived.
The female knight briefly recalled the copper-skinned, black-haired female warrior who wandered around half-naked even in the freezing cold, but soon shook her head vigorously.
'However, they shouldn't have recovered their power yet after being badly burned by Sir Eleonora last time. Far from crossing the mountain, they would have been busy tending to their own bodies...'
They were too busy surviving to have the capacity to support anyone else.
Although the difference in skill between Urga and the brothers was significant—roughly the difference between a violent bear and an unarmed civilian—where would she find the time when she was busy tending to her tribe?
"Hut... Ch-Christia...!"
"Saintess?!"
Deep in thought, the female knight, Christia, suddenly rushed to the side of the Saintess, who was trembling violently and calling her name. Christia knelt on one knee to examine her.
"What is happening?! Are you alright?!"
"Haaah... Haaaah..."
'Don't tell me, in that short moment?!'
It was something that happened occasionally. Although the subject of their faith was the Goddess, the Saintess was called the Goddess's proxy. While not comparable to the Goddess, she was a body that received faith and worship accordingly.
This meant she also received the faith and respect of the Holy Knights—who were vulgarly called the Goddess's fanatics—so it was safe to say the Saintess and the Holy Knights were connected to each other, albeit faintly, just like the Goddess and the Saintess.
If the Saintess was a large root, could it be said that the Holy Knights and some deeply faithful ones were the rootlets connected to her?
That is why she noticed the obituary of the Holy Knights who lost their lives in a distant land and grieved for them. And what the Saintess had been doing until now was tracing their final moments, just a little, before that faint string connecting them snapped.
In other words, she could trace fragments of that moment, even if she couldn't see everything the two brothers saw before they died.
However,
"Hnnnngh...?!"
"Saintess!! Is anyone there!!"
"Ha, haaaahn... This is... th-this iiiis...?!"
Something was strange. Usually, the end of a Crusader is as calm as a spring deep in the mountains.
Even if the form of that death is not peaceful, even if—to put it bluntly—they die sprawled out on the street, they hold no negative emotions toward their own death.
Because they have the pride of having served the Goddess their entire lives.
And because death means they can leave for the Goddess's side with that pride in their hearts.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say it was a death befitting fanatic Crusaders, but the sight of the Saintess panting while clutching her chest right now was clearly an abnormal situation.
The Commander of the Holy Knights, Christia, hurriedly supported the Saintess and called for help.
"Saintess, what on earth are you seeing—"
"Corruption...!"
"Pardon?"
Corruption? Suddenly? Why?
Did she hear correctly? Before Christia even had time to be bewildered, the Saintess, placing her hand over Christia's pure white gauntlet, continued speaking with a strangely flushed, aroused face.
"Panic, confusion, rage, and... Corruption... In the fragments of the memory the two brothers saw before they passed... I see overwhelming rage mixed with lust, carnal appetite, disgrace, humiliation... a swamp of all kinds of lechery... sticky, inescapable corruption... How... how terribly potent...♥"
What was she saying? What on earth did the brothers see right before they died?!
But that wasn't important right now.
Haaah...! Haaah...!
"No! You must cut the connection! It's dangerous!"
"J-Just a little more... If I look just a little more, I might know the identity of this... It remains in such an intense form that if I look just a bit deeper, I can see the source of that corruption... and the woman held in his arms... and the identity of this faint light...!"
No.
This is too dangerous. Christia unwittingly exhaled a ragged breath just like the Saintess, affected by the turbid and sticky black aura rising from the Saintess.
"Uuugh?!"
'To think it affects even me... what kind of powerful...?!'
Just like the two brothers, indirect influence was reaching Christia herself, who had a soul connection with the Saintess to some extent.
Even though she wasn't facing it directly like the Saintess and was merely standing beside her, she felt her body slowly heating up.
Let alone the Saintess, who was directly connected to them.
"Hut, just a little, just a little more... just a little more...!"
The Saintess, confused by the turbid energy of corruption, had the holy veil and vestments covering her head flickering with black light. From the confused figure of the Saintess, a thick, carnal sex appeal began to emanate.
It was forcibly dragging the rutting bitch out of the chaste Saintess who had been raised in this sanctuary her entire life.
'I can't let this go on! I don't know what it is, but this is the limit! It's too dangerous!'
Eventually, Christia drew the sword at her waist, held it in a reverse grip, and stabbed it into the floor with all her might.
"Oh Holy Light, grant this weak servant the will to not retreat!"
As Christia hurriedly offered a prayer, bewildered by the heated, feverish moans bursting from the Saintess's mouth, a cluster of holy light exploded from her center and began to surround the Saintess's body.
Along with the Saintess, receiving the power of her own small miracle granted by the Goddess, the Saintess—who had been panting, her whole body drenched in sweat—gradually regained a stable breathing rhythm.
"I thought I could see it..."
"It was too dangerous. You almost..."
It really could have been a disaster. She thought she could purify it, thought she could overcome it, but that incredibly wicked energy clearly transcended their imagination.
It was fortunate she was beside her; if she had stayed connected a little longer, she would have been helpless against that squelching, sticky energy.
Supported by Christia, the Saintess rose from her seat and looked up at the Goddess statue with a face still flushed red, the effects not yet fully gone.
Eleonora's disappearance, the death of the Holy Knights, and now the filthy, incredibly evil energy of corruption appearing from somewhere.
"What on earth is going to happen to this land..."
Was this truly a coincidence? Or was it a new trial sent down by the Goddess?
The Saintess silently lowered her head, looking down at her own thighs... which were now drenched and slick with sticky, viscous love-juices.