This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

The title of Saint really must carry some serious weight.

"I may not always be able to stay by the two princesses' side. There may come a time when I have to leave suddenly, and officially announcing my relationship with them might not be possible either. Your Majesty. Your Highness. I apologize."
Since my negotiations with the Goddess weren’t over yet, and if my interpretation of the prophecy was correct, I might have to leave for a distant place. So when the Emperor and Empress summoned me for a talk, I decided to be upfront about it.
But despite my words, both of them simply smiled.

"I understand. My daughters were the ones who forced this to happen, so it’s only natural that things would turn out this way."
"We will respect the Saint’s wishes. Do as you see fit."
They openly acknowledged my secret relationship with the princesses.

Honestly, this situation was ridiculously favorable for me.
And so, my relationship with the princesses was officially recognized.
And then, well…

"Amayel, today as well?"
"Saint, tomorrow it’s our turn!"
It happened every single day.

Really, a lot.
So much that I started wondering if it was really okay to be doing this every single day.
But, personally, the best part wasn’t the act itself—

It was afterwards.
Lying quietly in bed after everything was over, our naked bodies pressed together, giggling and chatting in whispers.
Talking about pointless, mundane things.

"I tried cookies today. Iomene really loves sweets."
"I walked barefoot on the grass. Saint, it felt amazing. Just like how it felt in Almene’s memories."
"I’ve been refining my research on primary colors, expanding its applications across different fields. I think it’ll lead to some major breakthroughs. I’m really looking forward to it."
Rolling around in bed together, sharing warmth and idle conversations—I loved those moments.

And I told them my own trivial stories too.
About the patients I treated.
The food I ate.

Just random things.
Afterwards, we’d go to the bathroom together, clean up, and part ways.
I was satisfied.

I was happy.
If only things could stay just like this forever.
With that thought in mind, after dinner, I spent my nights alone in my room.

And what did I do during that time?
I’d kneel before the Goddess’s statue, open the Scripture of Grace, and pray.
"I’m here again today, Goddess. Please, just talk to me."

My prayers were desperate.
Once I started, I could easily go on for hours without stopping.
"I love my life right now. Treating people once in a while, eating good food, and spending time with my girlfriends—I really, really love it.

The Emperor has even approved my relationship with Almene and Iomene.
I want to marry all three of them.
But I still can’t give them an answer yet.

Because of Luphiel’s prophecy."
Please.
There are things like divine revelations, and I’ve heard that gods sometimes descend to meet people directly.

I’ve done so much already.
I restored the church, didn’t I?
So please.

Just meet me.
Tell me that the prophecy about me is false.
Say that it was all a lie. Please.

"I need to confirm if the prophecy I received is true or not.
I have to make sure before I propose.
I want to be with all three of them for a long, long time.

So please, just meet me.
Meet me and tell me if my interpretation of the prophecy is right or not.
I’m begging you."

I knelt every night, praying desperately.
And then, on the third day after becoming involved with the three women—
The Goddess’s statue still smiled upon me with a benevolent expression.

Yet not a single word of response had been given to me.
After spending three hours in fervent prayer, I looked up at that smiling statue—
And for some reason, a deep resentment boiled inside me.

So, she had enough power to damn me to Hell, but not enough to just meet me?
Wouldn’t it be easier to just talk to me for a moment?
I felt betrayed by the silent Goddess.

I had done everything I could.
Reading through the Scripture of Grace, I even found passages that seemed to perfectly describe my own actions, almost as if the book had been written about me.
It was eerie.

So much so that I started to wonder—
"Am I actually a Saint?"
 

Wouldn't it be so much easier if she just came to me and said a few words?
"Yes, you misinterpreted the prophecy."
"No, your interpretation is incorrect."

"Let me tell you the real meaning."
Then, I could just happily…
Live out my life as a harem king among my women and die in peace.

That would be the perfect ending.
But what can I do?
If the Goddess refuses to answer, the only thing I can do is keep praying until she does.

Once again, I collapsed dejectedly onto my bed.
Still, the lingering scent of Iomene, Almene, and Erfa in the sheets lifted my mood a little.
A man whose bed smelled of three women.

Nice.
Please, let this life continue forever.
No hardships. No suffering.

Just a happy, peaceful, ordinary life.
With that wish in my heart, I carefully drifted off to sleep.
And not long after, a strange feeling woke me up.

My body felt unnaturally clean and pure.
As if all emotions, all sensations had been stripped away, leaving behind only the most pristine emptiness.
I was standing on a vast, white platform, completely still.

Where was this?
This wasn’t a dream.
If it were, my senses wouldn’t be this vivid.

As I curiously wiggled my fingers and toes—
[Amayel.]
A voice quietly called my name.

I jolted in shock and whipped around toward the source of the sound.
Floating in the air was a massive woman.
Her face—

Identical to the Goddess statue in my room.
Her expression—
A benevolent smile.

And her body—
As colossal as the Statue of Liberty.
I instinctively knew—

This was a Goddess.
Lilia.
The Goddess of Grace had come to see me.

“Y-Your Holiness? Is it really you?”
[I have heard your prayers, so I have come.]
Hearing Lilia’s words, I felt my throat tighten—tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

Slowly, I stepped toward her.
“I… I’ve tried so damn hard. You know that, right? You’ve been watching me. I’ve never done anything evil. Not even once. I’ve never even used my skills for anything remotely bad.
So why?

Why did you give me that prophecy?”
The Goddess looked down at me with pity.
So, I spilled everything to her.

“What I want isn’t much. I have three women now. Sure, it kind of happened half against my will, but still, I’m happy.
I just want to live a long and happy life with them.
So please—just answer me one thing.”

[Speak.]
“Luphiel’s prophecy. What does it really mean?
Are you really planning to cast me into Hell?

No, right?
I misinterpreted it, didn’t I?
I’m just a paranoid coward, aren’t I? I just got scared and read too much into it, right?"

At my desperate plea, the Goddess, who had been looking at me with pity, suddenly—
Laughed.
And her laughter was…

Mocking.
I felt it—
Contempt.

Hatred.
And pure loathing.
[I will cast you into Hell, Amayel.

No matter what you do.
No matter how many good deeds you accumulate.
It will make no difference.]

The Goddess leaned in, bringing her massive face right up to mine.
[Poor Amayel.
Your interpretation of the prophecy was not wrong.]

And then—
She uttered the most despair-inducing words of my entire life.
 

****
As expected, the gods of the Pantheon had been watching Saint Amayel.
The moment the Evil God discreetly approached Amayel, several gods tried to intervene—but they failed.

Even three hundred years later, the celestial realm was still in ruins.
Even the strongest gods of the Pantheon, Luphiel, the God of Prophecy, and Dulaney, the God of Destruction, had exhausted themselves just by bestowing a prophecy or appointing a single Chosen One.
They were left panting, struggling just to breathe.

The connection between the mortal realm and the celestial realm was in shambles.
At this point, even delivering divine revelations was difficult—let alone stopping an Evil God from approaching Amayel.
And so, the Evil God succeeded.

It successfully struck at Amayel's deepest trauma.
"Why... Why? Why is this happening to me...?"
Tears streamed down Amayel’s face.

His expression was one of pure resentment and despair.
"I really... I really tried so hard.
Why are you doing this to me?

Can't you just let me be happy?"
His voice trembled as he sobbed.
The Evil God shook its head.

[Do you know the origin of the power inside you?]
Amayel flinched.
"...It’s a hentai game skill... right?"

The Evil God did not understand what "hentai game" meant, but it was clear—
This fool had completely misunderstood everything.
The Evil God could hardly believe how naive and ignorant this human was.

He was so easy to manipulate.
An ideal subject for indoctrination.
Slowly—

But surely—
The Evil God began to break down Amayel’s mind.
[Let me show you the true source of your power.]

The scene changed.
Three hundred years ago—
The Celestial War.

The battle in the mortal realm was revealed before their eyes.
The Abyssal Evil Gods.
The Demons of Hell.

And the Pantheon’s Gods, as their followers clashed in a bloody war, each side fighting for dominance.
The Demon Worshippers and Dark Sorcerers sacrificed living humans to their lords.
The Evil God's cultists spilled blood and intestines, offering human sacrifices to empower their god.

And to oppose these horrors, the Saints, Holy Women, and Heroes waged a desperate, brutal struggle.
At the heart of it all—
The followers of Asmodeus, the Demon King of Lust, emerged.

A depraved horde—
A twisted, pleasure-crazed cult of madness and excess.
Their offerings to their Demon King were—

Unspeakable.
Amayel trembled violently.
Massacres.

Rape.
Arson.
Acts of unspeakable depravity, carried out to strengthen their Demon King.

Amayel collapsed to the ground.
"That... That power is inside me?"
The Evil God barely contained its exhilaration.

Ah.
That expression.
There was nothing more intoxicating than the sight of a human breaking apart.

[The power of Asmodeus, the Demon King of Lust, resides within you, Amayel.
That is why I must cast you into Hell.
The power within your soul will devour the devotion of those around you.

Slowly.
Without you even realizing it—
It will grow.]

The Evil God once again showed Amayel the atrocities committed by Asmodeus’s followers during the Celestial War.
Slowly.
Torturously.

**[And in the end—
You will become just like them.
That is why I will stop you before that happens.

No matter what good deeds you commit—
No matter how much you struggle against it—
You will never escape your fate.

You will fall into Hell.
And there, I will destroy your soul and the power within it—**
Completely.]**

It was done.
The Evil God felt a surge of euphoria, nearly orgasmic in intensity, as it watched Amayel’s reaction.
Now, he would break.

He would wail and curse his fate.
And then?
The next step was obvious.

He would begin to curse the Goddess.
He would start to hate the Pantheon, the gods who had condemned him to an inescapable fate.
The Evil God had corrupted countless Saints, Holy Women, and Heroes this way before.

And Amayel would be no different.
After that, it was simple.
Would he sabotage the church in a vengeful spiral of destruction?

Would he go berserk, consumed by despair?
Either way, countless believers would die.
And since faith was the source of the Pantheon’s power, their influence would weaken.

Then—
At the perfect moment—
The Evil God could leak information to Hell.

The demons would come to reclaim the power of Lust.
And just when the Pantheon had been weakened the most…
A war was inevitable.

The Evil God would leisurely watch from the sidelines—
Waiting for the two factions to destroy each other, ready to reap the spoils.
The Evil God looked down at Amayel.

Now.
Say it.
Curse Lilia.

Curse the Pantheon of Gods.
Scream that they should all burn and disappear.
Demand to know why they refused to grant you a happy future.

Why should you suffer because of a power you never even asked for?
Scream. Wail. Curse. Despair.
Amayel raised his head.

Tears streamed down his face.
He opened his mouth.
The Evil God, trembling with excitement, eagerly watched.

What kind of curse would spill from his lips?
What kind of despair would he unleash?
What kind of ecstasy would he grant?

"I will sacrifice myself."
…What?
For a moment, the Evil God doubted its own hearing.

What did he just say?
"I'll just sacrifice myself. If my existence is the reason such horrors will come to pass, then I'd rather just die."
As Amayel spoke, he hit the ground in frustration—

Yet his words contradicted his actions.
**"Take my soul. Right now. Destroy it along with the power inside me.
You can do that, right?

Goddess?"**
The Evil God's mouth fell open.
"I have three women I love in the mortal world.

I don’t want them to suffer because of me.
So hurry!!
Destroy my soul before I change my mind!!"

As Amayel sobbed uncontrollably, the Evil God fell silent.
Seriously.
‘Is this guy… stupid?’

For the first time ever, the Evil God experienced something truly shocking—
Something completely baffling.