The Confessional of the Goddess of Light Church

Before the sacred statue of the Goddess, a golden-haired maiden clutched her chest, overwhelmed by shame.

Her snow-white cleavage nearly spilled over her fingers,

heaving violently with every breath and whispered word.

"Goddess... I have sinned."

Anyone witnessing this would be stunned.

The nun kneeling in pious repentance before the Goddess’s statue

was none other than Sister Elsa—

renowned across the land for her saintly beauty and boundless compassion.

Her sea-blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears,

flickering with regret, shame, and self-reproach.

A rosy flush crept up her temples and porcelain cheeks,

making her look even more heartbreakingly delicate.

And the sin she confessed?

—"I lust after that beautiful boy’s body... sob... I have sinned."

...

To trace Sister Elsa’s turmoil,

we must begin when the gentle, stunningly handsome youth

moved in next door to her.

His name was Roy. Jet-black hair, violet eyes.

Plain clothes couldn’t hide his noble grace.

Beyond his dazzling looks, Elsa’s first impression was his politeness and warmth.

Roy was the kind of boy who naturally drew people in.

After settling in, he gifted every neighbor a thoughtful present.

Elsa received sleep-inducing tea.

Her bedridden younger sister, Airi—who’d grown withdrawn after contracting a strange illness—

got a toy knight bearing Roy’s likeness.

For the first time in years, a flicker of light sparked in Airi’s dull eyes.

In return, Elsa gave Roy a blessed cross from the Church.

Unseen by her, the moment it touched his palm, it blazed with holy light—

only for Roy to crush it silently in his fist, smothering every gleam.

When he opened his hand, the cross lay dark and lifeless.

His violet eyes glowed eerily as the fair-skinned youth smiled.

"Thank you, Sister Elsa. I truly... adore it~"

As they grew closer, Elsa learned Roy’s tragic past.

Orphaned young, he’d struggled to survive:

waitering at taverns under a tyrannical boss,

enduring drunken brawls;

clerking at the Adventurers’ Guild;

trading medicinal herbs after the Elf-Beastkin war.

His profits finally bought him a home in Eoliel—

a theocratic nation where the Goddess of Light’s creed reigned supreme:

*Truth, peace, and equality under the Holy Light.*

A dreamland for war refugees like Roy,

who’d journeyed here hoping for quiet days.

Despite his hardships, the boy faced the world with a smile.

Elsa wept at his story—then hugged him fiercely.

(Nearly suffocating him in the process.)

Her affection deepened daily.

She adored his sincerity, his kindness,

the mature yet innocent soul beneath his youthful face.

Sometimes, after drinking his sleep tea,

she’d dream of Roy.

(Undescribable scenes followed.)

She’d wake flushed, heart pounding like a startled fawn.

*How could a nun—*

*a symbol of purity and chastity—*

*harbor such filthy thoughts about an innocent boy?*

The Church only required chastity until twenty.

Elsa was nineteen.

So she knelt in the confessional,

tears streaming as she faced the Goddess’s statue:

"I lust after that beautiful boy’s body... I have sinned..."

After unburdening her soul,

Elsa felt cleansed.

She resolved: *No contact with Roy until my twentieth birthday.*

(Though his tea was too delicious to refuse.

She’d still savor a cup before bed.)

Relieved, she stepped onto the bustling street—

and froze.

There he was. Roy.

His profile alone made her heart skip.

Her hand flew to her chest, feeling its frantic rhythm.

She opened her mouth to call his name—

But Roy spotted her first.

His violet eyes lit up like twin stars,

filled entirely with her reflection—

like a devoted puppy seeing its whole world.

"*Sister Elsa!*"

His voice—clear as snowflakes on piano keys—

carried youthful adoration.

That single word "*Sister*" melted her bones.

Her plump thighs pressed together instinctively.

"R-Roy... what brings you here?"

Her resolution evaporated.

*How could anyone resist him?*

Roy approached, smiling shyly.

To Elsa, it felt like spring blooming worldwide.

"I’m delivering potions for the Alchemists’ Guild," he said casually.

"To Dreamland Village."

Elsa’s sea-blue eyes widened in horror.

"*D-Dreamland Village?!*"

"Yeah? What’s wrong, Sister Elsa?" Roy asked innocently.

She couldn’t tell him.

That place wasn’t a village—

it was Eoliel’s largest brothel.

A haven for Succubi of the Demonfolk.

*Who’d send this pure boy into a den of seductive, long-legged dream demons?*

*They’d devour him whole!*

*NO!*