Squire x Saintess

((Before you begin, you should use the tab to the right to activate game mode! This will not only track your stats and accomplishments, but also, will display certain text based on your choices. You can also customize your main character's name. If you like this story, you may also enjoy Nuns vs. Knights-- this story shares that world, but you don't need to read it to understand this one: https://chyoa.com/story/Nuns-Vs--Knights.27247))

At long last, your graduation day had arrived. The culmination of four years training, including physical hardship and rigorous study, had brought you to this point. Today, you would enter the recruit commander's office a trainee and exit an official squire of Missionaire, ready to carry out the duty you found yourself called to: to attend to the heroic saintesses you'd heard so much about during the time of your studies.

You were torn over which had you more excited: meeting your questing party in the later part of the day, or finally taking leave of your hard-ass recruit commander. In these days, a squire's position was akin to the upper echelon of nobility, met with praise and reverence from the townsfolk matched only by their ardor for Geod's chosen saintesses themselves. In contrast to that, the recruit commander treated you and your small class of fellow trainees like you were all a class below common soldiers. If it was love he had for you, it was a love so tough that it was indistinguishable from bone-deep contempt.

"Squire Lavender, step inside. Be quick about it."

You recognized the voice of Recruit Commander Mattheu Fastner, the archnemesis of all green recruits and, in his older days, the demon lord's army alike. A knight of the city in heavy helm and armor pulled open the heavy oak door to the meeting room, allowing you inside. You stepped past him wordlessly, recognizing the relatively stark and unadorned office of your superior. Even in a day where icons of Geod or decorations of one's personal liberty and taste were becoming more and more in fashion, he chose to live modestly, perhaps so that none of the raw recruits could cast a stone at him for the enforced squalor.

The commander sat at the other side of a long, oak table covered in parchments, maps, and thick folders, with graying blond eyebrows set over stern, deep-set eyes. Even after four years, you had never seen the man crack a smile or appear out of armor. This time was no exception. Still, for all the rest of his utilitarian lifestyle, his chair was still the largest in the room, and despite your twenty years, it made you feel like a boy again, being seated across from him. "Squire Lavender. What do you think? Does it ring as you imagined it would?" the dour commander asked.

You knew better than to tell him how much the title meant to you. Instead, you simply nodded. Privately, you wondered if he was only so bitingly sarcastic on the matter of squirehood due to having missed the boat, having been a recruit commander for as long as the squires had been a concept in Missionaire.

"Before you go about your merry way into the arms of your blushing brides," Fastner continued in a dry voice, "you will enjoy one final history lesson." The man shuffled aside his papers and produced a thick, well-used book from beneath them. "Just in case you've been sleeping through my classes for the past four years, lad. Humor me this once, before you go off to do Geod's great work."

If that was all it took to get out of the commander's office once and for all, you'd listen to him recite the whole book.

Instead of opening the tome, he placed his hand upon its cover, as though swearing by it. "Ten years ago, Geod graced our high priest Nephilin with an edict: that a chosen few women would be declared saintesses and would be blessed with wonderful powers for the sake of combating the demon lord's army. The church recognized the saintesses by the gold mark of Geod's glove, radiant upon their bodies. This began the period of relative safety that our city of Missionaire, previously known as Pilgrim's Rest, now enjoys, under their protection. The saintesses made significant progress fighting back the dark forces, but there is ever more to be done, and we should ever expect them to adapt to our strategies, even as Geod watches us."

The man grimaced meaningfully before continuing, showing you this was his least favorite part of the spiel. "And adapt they did. Six years ago, the barren plague arrived. Declining birthrate in Missionaire. The targeted destruction not just of the lives of our men but also of their ability to reproduce. Not only that, but a reduced ferility rate among our would-be mothers. In short order, our city has been humbled and made stagnant, lurching by on the mercy of the royal capital's aid and the protection the saintesses give us. But we knew it would not be enough. Our numbers dwindled and were not replaced, while the demon forces began to thrive and push us back."

"In his charity, Geod came to us through Nephilin with a new declaration, this time as a prophecy. He claimed that in the western lands, in a town called Merridan, the church's vows of chastity were fully lifted and in fact, reversed. He urged all of His people to procreate and spread their seed in His honor. He also got unusually specific: He claimed that a generation born from our honored saintesses and males of Missionaire would strike the finishing blow against the Demon Lord. Quite a prophecy, considering that the vast majority of our males are now impotent."

You'd heard this all a few times before and your mind wandered. A question occurred to you that you'd never had the proper situation to ask, until this moment: what does Geod say of sexual relationships that do not tend towards reproduction? For example, when woman lays with woman? That didn't seem to have stopped in recent years. If anything, it was happening more than ever.

"He smiles upon them all the same, or so the church says. The spirit of the thing, I suppose. Rising tide raises all ships, or some such nonsense," the commander responded, not smiling and evidently not appreciating the interruption. "At any rate, that leads us to our present state, oh venerated squire. The saintesses can be thought of as the linchpin of Geod's plan, but you squires are almost as important, as you are the few privileged to resist the barren plague. Your class is tasked with accompanying and attending to the saintesses as they perform their duties. It is for this that you've armed yourself with both knowledge and martial prowess. You've had chance to test those in spades and perhaps, in time, you will be charged with the more peculiar of your responsibilities: to sew your wild oats among the fertile soil that is the saintesses."

You gulped nervously at his euphemism. All trainee squires knew that this was the true meaning of their career, but in the day to day life, training and studying, it barely seemed to register. Now, with graduation at hand, you would be made to grapple with the task in short order. You weren't worried about your ability to perform, but still, thinking about laying with those in the class of lady heroes you'd been reading about all this time...

Something about your nervous anticipation rubbed the commander the wrong way, but then, just about everything did. "I think that's enough of history. Let us complete your evaluation. The fact that you're here means that I've seen fit to approve of your skills and conditioning, but the saintesses will want specific information, which I am tasked with recording. Let's first address your physical condition. There is no specific body one requires to serve Geod in this matter, but we examine it all the same. In my estimation, I judge you to be…"