Chapter 37: A Suspicious Wish and a Predator’s Resolve

I couldn’t believe it.

Just patting my head as a wish? Get real.

What kind of idiot risks their life in battle only to settle for a few head pats?

Maybe some cliché-ridden, pushover hero from an old-school story, but this is Carl, the sleazy, crude protagonist from the original novel.

To put it bluntly, even asking for a one-night stand would be too tame for him, and he’s settling for head-patting?

He’s got to be up to something.

There’s definitely some inescapable trap he’s setting up.

Otherwise, why would he ask for something as simple as patting my head?

Grabbing his hand as he tried to half-ass the wish, I growled.

“Keep patting.”

Let’s get one thing straight.

I’m not saying this because his patting feels good.

It’s just that if I don’t fulfill the wish properly, he might complain later, right?

Sure, he doesn’t seem like the petty type, but you never know! He might claim the reward was too small and demand another wish!

As I tightly gripped his hand to stop him from pulling away, Carl spoke with a stiff expression.

“You sure about this?”

“About what?”

“No, nothing. I’ll keep patting.”

With a look of realization, he slowly resumed patting my head.

Pat, pat.

The moment his hand touched my hair, that electrifying, languid sensation sent shivers down my spine again.

This is dangerous.

But I have no choice. If I let this end vaguely, he might seize the chance to make another wish.

Clenching my teeth, I tried to endure the overwhelming pleasure washing over me.

Pat, pat.

“Heh… heek…♡”

His relentless hand brushing through my hair shattered my patience in an instant.

Damn this female body!

How can just being patted feel this good?

No, it’s because Carl’s creepily good at it!

Why’s he so good at patting?

Wasn’t he a confirmed virgin in the novel? How’s a virgin this skilled?

I thought I could overcome the pleasure with willpower.

But that was my delusion. Every pat forced pathetic moans out of me.

“Heek… hah… hng?!”

The idea of being patted by a man felt repulsive, but the pleasure was so intense it drowned out the disgust.

Sometimes, his touch was so addictive it made me gasp.

I have to stop this.

If I let him keep patting, I’ll turn from a witch into a harlot.

But stopping now would be too vague, right?

He needs to pat until he’s satisfied for it to count as fulfilling the wish.

The urge to stop immediately clashed with the need to keep going.

Which choice would be the smart one?

…The moment I started overthinking this, I was already a fool—or worse.

What can I do when my brain won’t work?

It usually runs fine, but now it’s stuck.

Damn it, this isn’t right.

This is really not right.

Tormented by my conflicting thoughts, I suddenly felt an emptiness.

…The patting stopped.

Strangely, instead of relief, I felt disappointed.

This lewd body is no help at all.

Suppressing my clamoring disappointment, I spoke to him.

“J-Just a bit more… No, wait, that’s not—!”

Now even my words were coming out wrong.

I must be crazy, damn it!

I meant to ask, “Are you done?” but why did “pat me more” come out?

Self-loathing hit me.

Have I really become a female in mind too, without realizing it?

Holding my throbbing forehead, I tried again.

“D-Done?”

“Kinda, but you okay? I enjoyed it, but you really seemed to hate it.”

“Of course I hated it! You think I’d enjoy that?!”

“That much? Tch, now I feel bad.”

“It’s… it’s a wish, so… no need to apologize…”

Fidgeting with my fingers, I avoided his gaze.

It wasn’t something to be apologized for, but I felt awkward.

…And it was a bit too short, right?

He risked his life to clear a path, and just a few minutes of patting feels like a cheap reward, doesn’t it?

Poking his side as he prepared to sleep, I whispered softly.

“Hey.”

“What? I’m trying to sleep.”

“This isn’t right. For risking your life, a few minutes of patting is too small a reward.”

“So, keep patting?”

“No, are you crazy?! I really hated it!!!”

…Okay, I didn’t hate it, but any more patting would be dangerous.

It was already a close call earlier—if I cross that line, my expression might completely melt.

I don’t care about anything else, but that’s a hard no. People would think I’ve fallen into being a female.

Avoiding his gaze, I lowered my voice again.

“Think of another wish. But this time, nothing naughty.”

“Pretty sure head-patting wasn’t naughty.”

“It was plenty naughty! That tingly feeling was…!”

I stopped, realizing my mistake.

Saying it was tingly after claiming I hated it—what kind of contradiction is that?

“Pfft… heh heh heh…”

Sensing things going wrong, I looked up to see Carl smirking smugly.

…I take back calling him shameless.

Is this bastard toying with me?

Hardening my face, I slammed a fist into his solar plexus.

“Gweeeek!!!”

The squeal of a muscle pig echoed through the ruins.

At that moment, in the southern Great Forest, as Carl was getting pummeled by Beatrice…

The saint candidate Lorian, who’d arrived with the elves, slowly opened her eyes.

“…Where am I?”

Towering trees.

And barely-clad beauties roaming around, making her mouth water.

She quickly realized where she was.

“Looks like the Great Forest. The worst of them all—the southern Great Forest.”

The elves she’d met so far were formidable enough to be treated as fledglings here.

Vulgar mating sounds and squelching noises echoed from all directions.

Recalling the High Priest’s passing mention, Lorian confirmed this was indeed the southern Great Forest.

“Phew.”

Sighing, she first concealed her overflowing holy power.

Having boldly tried to violate them, what awaited wouldn’t be pleasant.

She had to escape.

Would the elves let her go? Maybe not, but trying was better than doing nothing.

Deciding, she seized the moment when the elves were distracted by her “siblings” and fled.

Surprisingly, the elves didn’t pursue.

Curious, Lorian enhanced her hearing with holy power and eavesdropped on their conversation.

[Sister, she’s escaping. Should we chase?]

[No, let her go. What’s the point of chasing that filth?]

[Filth needs purifying, doesn’t it? She even lusted after us! Shouldn’t we get revenge…?]

[Sister Kalia said she’s giving each pursuer an exclusive stallion for their trouble. Be late, and you’ll miss out.]

[Then no choice. Oh, that beefy high-tier one! That’s mine, so hands off!]

[Sure, good job. First come, first served.]

[Sister!!!]

“…They’re insane.”

Lorian quietly seethed.

“Calling me, a child of almighty Agathon, filth…?”

That’s blasphemy.

They must atone.

And—

“How can they be so vulgar in body and mind? They need to be guided to the right path.”

Everything about the elves disgusted her.

Especially their near-naked roaming.

Completely opposite to the theocracy’s teachings.

She felt profound discomfort, but she lacked the power to make them atone here.

In the western wasteland, maybe, but this was the Great Forest, where elves held full strength. Even defeating one would be tough.

And worse—

“They never act alone. What a pity.”

Elves always moved in pairs.

Briefly disheartened, Lorian recited a prayer to regain her courage.

“The High Priest said a saint rises above trials.”

I can’t be consumed by this trial.

I must be a light in the darkness, guiding others.

Would a saint candidate wallow in despair?

Resolved to overcome, Lorian first offered an apology her siblings wouldn’t hear.

“…I’ll rescue you soon, my siblings. Endure those lustful fiends a bit longer.”

Moving away from the forest’s center, she vowed.

“Agathon, under Your divine will, I’ll make these vulgar beings atone.”

Please lend this foolish one Your wisdom and strength.

Perhaps her prayer reached the heavens.

By fate or luck, a lone, vulnerable elf caught her eye, breaking their rule of pairing.

Lorian gazed at the elf like a predator eyeing prey, licking her lips.

Slurp—*

Soon, the elf’s silent scream began.