A Request That Sounds Like Madness

Asselin, who had been staring down at Libitina as she sank into despair, furrowed his brow.

"What exactly do these dates you're calculating mean?"

Libitina glanced at him — at the suspicion brimming in his gaze — then let out one long sigh after another before reluctantly opening her mouth.

"I forgot about the side effects."

She had already burned through a considerable amount of holy power back in the Demonic Cave. There, she had swung the power on pure instinct, all for the sake of survival, so any notion of restraint had been laughable. And even against the Ant-on earlier, she had used far more strength than she'd intended.

Nothing could be measured. How much holy power her body had held in the first place, how much she had already spent, how much she could afford to use going forward — she had no way of knowing any of it.

Ordinarily, a Saintess awakened only after thorough training and instruction. Libitina had been denied all of that, which meant her theoretical knowledge was, in truth, virtually nonexistent. Could firsthand observation alone — the things she had seen and overheard at Livia's side — carry her through the avalanche of unfamiliar experiences about to crash down on her? The elation she'd felt at having simply survived as a Saintess sank like a stone dropped into cold water.

There was no need to think far ahead, either. The side effects had to be dealt with right now, and as far as she knew, the remedy was the same one Saintess Livia had relied on: release through the act of coupling.

At her answer — which made no sense to him at all — Asselin studied her as she sank back into her thoughts, then asked in a dubious tone.

"...Can you hear me right now?"

"My ears work just fine, thank you."

She snapped back at him, face flushing, and shot him a glare.

"It's just..."

Libitina couldn't finish the sentence. She bit her lip hard. The words refused to come out.

And no wonder. She was about to have to ask this man to bring her a man. This judgmental knight, the one currently encased in a slab of iron plate.

"It would be best if you rested for now."

Perhaps he had decided Libitina wasn't in her right mind, because Asselin ultimately took a step back. There had certainly been things he wanted to press her on, yet he seemed to have chosen retreat for the moment. With every sign of being done with her entirely, he turned to go — and Libitina hastily stretched out her hand toward his retreating figure.

"Wait — Vice Commander!"

She seized his arm and yanked it without ceremony. Startled by the contact, Asselin went rigid and turned to look at her. And yet, even so, he did not shake her off with any violence; he allowed himself to be led back to his seat, docile as anything.

So he did run a burning fever. In his eyes she was, after all, at least visibly a patient. Libitina counted herself lucky for that.

Afraid he might walk off before she'd even finished speaking, she clutched his arm with both hands as if her life depended on it. Asselin glanced down at his captured arm with evident discomfort, but Libitina pretended not to notice and licked her lips nervously.

"I know this is going to sound insane to you."

"Everything you say sounds insane. That's nothing new."

Then one more piece of madness shouldn't startle you, should it?

Libitina swallowed the barb that rose to her tongue and forced her voice into the calmest register she could manage.

"Lend me one person."

For a fleeting moment, genuine puzzlement surfaced on Asselin's face — and then a thin film of irritation settled over it.

"How many times must I tell you—"

"Not you."

"Not Lady Hina either. If you need help changing, simply leave that to me."

"It's not help changing. It's help for the night."

"I don't care what kind of help it is. ...What?"

Asselin, who had been rebutting her nearly by reflex, froze. A beat late, he finally registered what she'd said, and his words died in his throat as he stared at her. Perhaps he half-believed he had misheard. So Libitina drove the wedge in, spelling out her demand with surgical precision.

"Lend me someone to attend to me. At night."

Asselin parted his lips. Unable to decide what on earth to say, he could do nothing but open and close his mouth like a gasping fish before he finally scraped a voice together.

"...That is truly, genuinely insane."

"I told you it would be."

She had spoken out of necessity, but she was every bit as mortified as he was. She knew better than anyone that this was not the sort of favor one asked of a man she'd known barely days — a man who showed her nothing resembling goodwill and collided with her over every little thing. But what other options did she have?

Unable to bear meeting his eyes, Libitina shifted her gaze into the empty air between them and explained in the flattest tone she could manage.

"When a mortal body wields a god's power, there's a price to pay. I've been using it nonstop since the Demonic Cave, and right now I'm really..."

The heat had receded for the moment, but Libitina knew better now — this was not improvement. Sooner or later the fever lurking inside her would rear up and rampage again, and before that happened, she had to release it. The faster and more cleanly, the better.

"Just one night. If I can release the heat in one night, I'll go back to normal."

"Not merely a grave robber, then. A mad grave robber."

Asselin murmured the words under his breath and roughly pulled his arm free of her grip, with all the revulsion of a man recoiling from something unclean.

Naturally, Libitina understood his reaction. She had no desire to make this request of him either. If not for the circumstances — the barracks all around them, knights at every turn, her treatment little better than that of a prisoner, forbidden to move on her own or make contact with anyone — she would never have brought it up with Asselin of all people.

But the words were already out, so Libitina decided she might as well be shameless about it. Steeling herself, she fixed him with a resolute gaze.

"I won't quibble over anything else. All I need is discretion. A spine knows how to keep its mouth shut and its hands to itself — they all do."

Her earnest, deadly-serious delivery seemed to leave Asselin more appalled than anything. His face twisted as he answered, making no effort to hide his contempt.

"Those are profoundly vulgar, debased words for someone claiming to be a Saintess."

"Weren't you calling me a grave robber just now?"

At her riposte, Asselin fell silent. He was treating her with softened manners for the moment, but inwardly he still saw her as a thief, and that was clearly why. She didn't even feel wronged anymore. She had demonstrated holy power against monsters right before his eyes, and he still refused to believe — no, dismantling that suspicion was simply impossible, she had to conclude.

Besides, right now she needed a man to discharge this heat more than she needed to be recognized as a Saintess.

"Go find someone. Right now. Or do you want me to walk out there and pick a barracks myself?"

The words had tumbled out on impulse, but thinking it over, the threat wasn't half bad. There were men aplenty trampling each other underfoot just outside, weren't there? The holy knights might have renounced the world to serve God, but they were still human, and the Order had never forbidden humanity's primal appetites. The doctrine that a Saintess must take a man to her bed had likely shaped that tolerance — but what did it matter?

Libitina's eyes gleamed as she shifted her hips forward, eager.

"Actually, that might be faster. Vice Commander, feel free to just stay out of my way."

Search hard enough, and at least one of them has to be cooperative. They all seemed to fear the Vice Commander above everything — which meant, conversely, that if only Asselin turned a blind eye, any one of them might—

"Acting on your own again will not be tolerated a second time."

But Asselin showed no inclination whatsoever to cooperate. If anything, he looked genuinely angry.

...Well. Of course he is.

"The only reason I haven't clapped you in irons right now is my respect for the proxy the Lux has sent to await you under her decree. So stop this, and cooperate quietly."

His voice was cold and clipped, but Libitina saw clearly the jaw bulging as he ground his teeth. Of course, from his position, she must be insufferable beyond words. Libitina — who had never once in her life been accused of lacking tact — could fully sympathize with what he was feeling. And yet she could not back down.

"No — my life is hanging by a thread right now!"

Asselin shuddered with distaste, as though the mere fact of dealing with her were offensive, and simply ignored her.

"Hunting for a man in your situation. How utterly reckless. If you go stirring up my knights over this, I will no longer extend even the barest courtesy."

As expected, her claim that her very life depended on lying with a man had been dismissed as nonsense.