Chapter 60
Creak—
Thud—
A wide room.
Dragged by the hand of a Holy Knight, Eric was separated from his group and led alone through the back door of the Papal Palace.
The moment he was tossed through a wide-open door in the middle of a corridor, the knight stepped back—leaving Eric alone with a single woman in the room. Eric frowned.
“Your complexion… Did the knight do something rude to you? I’m so sorry! But please, don’t hate him too much. He was only trying to go along with my stubbornness.”
The woman bowed her head apologetically, her voice soft and sincere.
Her pitiful expression was enough to stir sympathy in anyone watching. Eric bit his lip in irritation.
‘Damn it. Experiencing this in person feels disgusting.’
Just looking at her made an involuntary sense of pity rise within him.
The Holy Church—
And yet, this woman was a saint candidate who didn’t suit the image of purity or virtue at all.
In the game, she was the one who seduced clueless beginners and dragged them straight into ruin.
The so-called “Fallen Maiden of the Goddess.”
<Yustia Erdevan>
Level: 25
Strength [15]
Agility [35]
Stamina [50]
Magic [160]
Traits: <Charm>, <Pure Body>
“Are you all right, Hero? You don’t look well. Are you sick?”
Yustia’s innocent voice belied the sultry glimmer in her eyes. Eric steadied himself, forcing a smile as he sat across from her.
“…I’m fine. I just get motion sickness easily.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! You must’ve ridden a carriage for days from the north. I only wanted to see the hero everyone’s been talking about a little sooner….”
He still didn’t know why he’d been dragged all the way to the Papal Palace just to meet this woman instead of appearing in court.
For now, he needed to figure out the situation first.
Whatever reason this insane “fallen maiden” had for wanting to see him, she was still an important saint candidate. Through her, he might uncover clues about saving Gregory.
“It’s all right. I’m fine now. So, your name is…?”
“Yustia. Yustia Erdevan. You can just call me Tia.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Yustia. I’m Eric Ather.”
Eric bowed politely. She smiled radiantly in return.
“May I ask why you wanted to see me?”
He pulled his chair a little closer, skipping the pleasantries.
He needed to win her favor, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stare at her longer than necessary.
Her mysterious eyes and the sweet tone of her voice could melt anyone’s mind—and even knowing her <Charm> skill, he still felt his head spinning.
“How sad… I just wanted to talk with the hero. Does there have to be a reason?”
Her soft voice carried faint sorrow, enough to make most men want to comfort her.
Eric pinched his thigh under the table, fighting off the creeping warmth of desire.
Yustia.
There was a reason even this saint candidate was despised as a “fallen maiden.”
‘Damn… I’m going to bruise my leg at this rate.’
Not every servant of the Goddess was pure.
The northern cardinal who constantly demanded donations, the factions trying to frame Gregory through the Holy Tribunal—all of them used faith for profit.
Yustia was no different—just in her own twisted way.
Her devotion was warped, much like that of the inquisitors such as Isabella.
“…Tch.”
After a long silence, Yustia sighed and gave in.
“I just wanted to see your face once.”
Her tone turned casual, pouting like a child.
“Normally, when someone becomes a Hero of the Church, they at least show their face at the capital. But our handsome hero here—there were only rumors! I was dying to know what kind of person you were.”
She leaned back lazily, glancing at him sideways.
“…And I was also curious why the Crow Sister is backing you so hard.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
She tilted her head innocently as if she hadn’t said anything strange.
Then she reached under the table and pulled out a hidden wine bottle.
Pop—
“Want a drink?”
Eric shook his head firmly. “No, thank you. I’m not fond of alcohol.”
“Really? That’s odd. I heard northerners love their drink. You don’t look like someone who’d turn it down.”
“Rumors tend to exaggerate.”
She shrugged and took a swig straight from the bottle.
Gulp, gulp…
She didn’t stop until half the bottle was gone.
“Disappointed?” she asked, cheeks flushed.
“In what way?”
“That a saint candidate drinks straight from the bottle. Kind of ruins the image, doesn’t it?”
“Not particularly.”
He’d known her true nature from the start—there was no room left for disappointment.
“…You’re kind, Hero.”
Her voice was calm and genuine.
Then, suddenly, she scooted her chair closer and leaned on his shoulder.
“I… actually—”
“Yustia Erdevan. That’s enough.”
Eric’s voice cut through the moment like a blade.
He gently pushed her off, his tone dry and tired.
“What exactly do you want from me? If you need something, just say it. Stop playing games.”
“G–Games?”
The reason Yustia was called the “Fallen Maiden” was simple.
Using her beauty and <Charm>, she would seduce both men and women, luring the rich or powerful into her web—turning them into puppets for her and the Church’s benefit.
Many players in the game had been ruined by her too.
Without proper resistance gear, one could lose control of their body—donating every possession in their domain to the Church before realizing what happened.
“…What are you?”
“You already know. The new Hero your Church appointed.”
Yustia narrowed her eyes. “I heard this new hero was powerless.”
Her <Charm> had failed before—on battle-hardened warriors or elder mages with immense willpower—but never this easily.
‘Even they didn’t break the spell that fast…’
Could he be one of those people? she wondered. But remembering the rumors about his constant womanizing, she shook her head.
No, impossible.
“Fine. Whatever. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.”
She sighed and ruffled her hair, pointing at the door.
“Well? You can go now. We’re done here.”
Eric stood silently—then grabbed her wrist, pushing her back into her seat.
“W–What are you doing…?”
“Sorry, but I’m not finished yet.”
His gaze was steady, unwavering.
“Do you really think you can get away with laying hands on a saint candidate?”
“Saint candidate? Perfect. Then what would happen if word spread that the saint candidate tried to seduce the Church’s hero and a duke’s heir?”
“You—!”
Her face froze in shock. No one had ever dared talk to her like that.
“Miss Yustia. I have no interest in harming you or using this against you.”
He released her wrist, speaking more softly now.
“I just want to know why you called me here. Tell me, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”
It was unpleasant to think how close he’d come to falling for her charm, but he wasn’t angry.
He knew exactly what kind of woman she was—from many playthroughs before.
“Hmph! I told you already. I just wanted to see what the new hero was like.”
Even after all that, she stuck to her story.
Eric sighed, eyes narrowing with determination.
“Then? What did you think?”
“What?”
“You said you wanted to know what kind of person I am.”
She hesitated, glaring.
“…You’re the worst.”
“Perfect. I thought the same of you. Seems we get along better than I expected.”
“Ugh!”
“Anyway, I got my answer. Now one more question.”
Ignoring her glare, Eric went straight to the point.
“Why has Sir Gregory been summoned to the Holy Tribunal?”
Gregory.
Who was behind this, and what were they plotting?
“Tia?”
“Don’t call me that! It’s creepy!”
He only smiled.
“You’re not officially a saint yet—just a candidate, right?”
Her eyes widened slightly—caught off guard by his tone.
She turned away, covering her ears like a sulking child, but Eric continued calmly.
Clap!
“Then, how about this.”
He clapped once to regain her attention.
“Invest in me. I’ll make you the next Saint.”
“Huh? And why would I ever trust you?”
She scoffed, but curiosity flickered in her eyes.
He smirked.
It wasn’t even a lie.
Out of the three saint candidates, the chosen one changed every playthrough—and sometimes, it was Yustia who ascended.
“Aren’t you curious? Why Isabella went so far to make me the Church’s hero?”
At that, her hands slowly dropped from her ears, her interest piqued despite herself.
If he had to deal with this troublesome woman anyway, he might as well make full use of her.
Despite her scandalous reputation, Yustia’s influence—wielded through the people she had bewitched—was not to be underestimated.
“I’ll show you the reason,” Eric said confidently.
This time, he planned to use her power to his advantage.
Ding!
[Your eloquence has <Enthralled> the target.]
[The effect is reduced due to the large difference in abilities.]
Enough to ensure she couldn’t slip away.
Completely, and thoroughly.
