In Your Vulgar Paradise

“Saint, I would like you to marry me.”

Klaus Gestern—the man who defied the gods and achieved more than any human was ever meant to.
The same man who had ushered in the Church’s decline now proposed to a Saint deemed obsolete.

“Through this, Antagon sheds its image as a heretical group,
and you, Saint, will be free.”

The moment she recognized, beneath the handsome man with jet-black eyes and radiant golden hair,

The scarred, scrawny boy she had once saved years ago—
Azniel had no choice but to take his hand.

A prenuptial contract written entirely in her favor,
a mansion too vast, riches that never ran dry, and a life of indulgence beyond her station.

‘You will be free. I promise.’

Azniel believed he had returned to fulfill a promise made long ago.

“From the beginning… I’ve never asked anything of you.”

At least, until she came to face the husband who never once let her in.

“Do you truly… not want anything from me?”

All the perfection he offered began to tighten around her throat,
draining her slowly, piece by piece.
And so, once she had served her final purpose,
Azniel left him without hesitation.
There was nothing left for him to gain from this salvation of his, born from the mire.

But then—why?

“No matter how despicable I am, stay by my side alive—and hate me if you must.”

Why had he found her again, only to beg?

“Please… Don’t tell me I was wrong…”

Sobbing, broken, kneeling at her feet.