Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A Saintess's Dreams Are Prophetic

It's important, so I'll say it one more time.

A Saintess's dreams are special.

That's because God granted only the Saintess the power of ‘prophetic dreams,’ allowing her to glimpse the future.

Of course, despite the grandiose description, most prophetic dreams concern trivial things.

Things like tonight's dinner being some god-awful oatmeal, or a passing priest tripping over a rock and scraping his knee. Petty stuff like that.

But on very rare occasions, prophetic dreams also warned of major crises capable of changing the course of history.

In fact, several hundred years ago, it was supposedly thanks to one Saintess's prophetic dream that the Sectia Holy Empire managed to overcome a crisis that threatened its destruction.

That was why a strict principle was established requiring every dream a Saintess had to be recorded in full and preserved, no matter how trivial its contents.

Of course, even this rule had exceptions.

No matter how much of a Saintess she may be, she is still a person before she is a Saintess. Recording every insignificant detail would be a waste of time, and describing things too embarrassing to even say aloud would not only tarnish the Saintess's honor, but also be something she herself would naturally be reluctant to do.

If they pushed her unnecessarily, offended her, and made her shut her mouth entirely, the Order could suffer losses it could never afford.

And so, the Order turned a blind eye to omitting trivial dreams or glossing over embarrassing ones. It was a sort of unspoken agreement meant to preserve the Saintess's honor and keep her happy.

Because a single prophecy had the overwhelming potential to alter the fate of an entire nation, omissions and concealment in the records were, paradoxically, tolerated in the name of flexibility. It was a truly peculiar irony.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that simply receiving the power of prophetic dreams lets a Saintess snatch up the position of second-in-command of the Order. Her life is basically the definition of easy mode.

Then, aside from those amazing prophetic dreams, what does a Saintess actually do?

Well, nothing particularly impressive.

Do some charity work to win over the people, spread the faith while she's at it. Dress up all fancy for events and play the smiling doll in front of the believers.

Very occasionally, she might accompany an expedition into the Demon Realm, but all she has to do is stay protected in the rear, treat the wounded, or toss out a few buffs, so it isn't particularly dangerous.

And even those extra activities are optional rather than mandatory, so there's no reason to go looking for hardship.

She can simply enjoy her privileges within the Order and spend her entire life dreaming in comfort.

But I couldn't do that.

Because, of all places, I'd been transmigrated into the world of a webtoon, and the body I'd entered belonged to ‘Beatrice,’ the Saintess of the Eris Order, a supporting character who suffered every kind of misery imaginable before being completely broken.

The original Beatrice was a timid, fragile flower raised in a greenhouse.

That fragility made her perfect prey for hyenas in human skin, and in the original story, both her body and mind were utterly trampled by Cassian, the Eris Order's Hero and a villain hiding his vile true nature.

The moment I became complacent, it was obvious my future would collapse just as brutally as the original Beatrice's had.

The one fortunate thing was that I'd entered Beatrice's body while she was still young. I had plenty of time to prepare for the disaster waiting in the future.

Rather than cultivating exceptional qualities as a Saintess, I chose to grow strong as a warrior capable of crushing every threat on my own.

Instead of gentle prayers, I let out battle cries, and instead of sacred scripture, I took up a spear.

Rather than remaining behind the safety of the rear lines, I led the Holy Knights at the blood-soaked front and severed the heads of demonic beasts.

Fortunately, this body possessed extraordinary martial talent, and combined with desperate effort, I managed to achieve countless accomplishments in the Demon Realm.

The epithet bestowed upon me was none other than ‘The Silver Holy Spear.’

By now, my name carried enough weight that no one could dismiss me even if my position as Saintess were stripped away.

And on top of that, add the authority of being the Saintess of the Eris Order, one of the Seven Great Holy Orders?

Even the king of a nation wouldn't dare treat me carelessly.

But even I had one concern I couldn't tell anyone about.

The vicious dreams that had been relentlessly tormenting me lately.

This dream began with a peaceful scene.

It was an afternoon bathed in gentle sunlight. As I shifted around, enjoying the soft, cozy feel of the bedsheets, I felt the mattress dip as someone sat beside me, followed by the gentle touch of a hand stroking my hair. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

[Did I wake you, Saintess?]

A low, sweet voice. I turned my head and saw a black-haired man sitting at my bedside, looking down at me.

His honey-sweet gaze slowly swept over my face. Like a girl hopelessly in love, I smiled shyly, pulled away the blanket covering me, and welcomed him happily.

[No, I missed you.]

The coquettish voice coming from my own mouth felt so alien it sent chills down my spine.

[...Saintess? What is this around your neck? Why in the world are you wearing something like this...?]

He noticed the leather strap wrapped around my neck and asked in surprise.

Blushing as though slightly embarrassed, I carefully picked up the end of the metal chain attached to the leather strap and offered it to him.

[It's just... y-you're my master, so...]

A submissive confession I had never uttered once in my life slipped from my lips.

His face was difficult to make out against the backlight as he absentmindedly accepted the chain from me, but he seemed somewhat startled.

[Saintess. Do you even understand what you're doing right now? This is... a collar meant for an animal.]

[W-What does it matter? You're the only one I'm showing this side of myself to...]

At my answer, he gave a low laugh.

[Really? Then I suppose I should live up to your expectations. Don't you think?]

His earlier tenderness vanished without a trace, and with a low, cold voice, he roughly yanked the chain I'd handed him.

Clink-!

With a sharp metallic sound, my head was forcibly jerked upward. As I choked from the rough pull around my neck, his face slowly drew closer.

And just as our faces came close enough to hear each other's breathing...

“Eeeek!”

With a crash-, I rolled out of bed and woke up.

My entire body was clammy with cold sweat, and my sweat-soaked silver hair clung unpleasantly to my face like spiderwebs.

Even after waking, the lingering remnants of the dream clung to me so vividly that my stomach churned.

“Ugh... urk.”

I reflexively covered my mouth as nausea surged up.

After drawing on my divine power to calm my stomach, I felt around my neck. What my fingers touched wasn't leather, but smooth, soft skin.

Only then did a faint sigh of relief escape me.

“...These dreams have been fucking insane lately.”

I didn't even have the strength to climb back onto the bed, so I simply sprawled out on the floor and cursed.

I'd occasionally dreamed about going on affectionate dates with men before.

Fine. Whatever.

I fucking hate that too, but my body is a woman's now, and humans are basically slaves to their hormones anyway. A date or two, if I give it a hundred... no, a thousand concessions, maybe I can accept that

“But what the hell was that dream just now?!”

It felt like my head was boiling with rage.

Worst of all, the setting of this particular dream had been my own room in the Order.

Amid that familiar scenery, I had been lying on the bed completely naked, without so much as a thread on my body.

The brief glimpse I got of myself showed my body covered in reddish marks. Signs of abuse. There was no other way to describe them.

I wondered how I could possibly have stayed still after having something like that done to me, but even more unbelievable was how I'd reacted toward the man who had clearly been responsible for those horrible acts.

Hadn't I put the collar on myself and respectfully offered him the end of the chain?

[Y-You're my master, so...]

Remembering that sickeningly sweet, coy voice that had come from my mouth made goosebumps rise all over my body.

“Blech... what the fuck was that?”

My eyes had looked completely dead. I must've been drugged, or tortured until I'd lost my mind.

“And at the end, he was definitely... trying to k-kiss me, wasn't he?”

What is a kiss between a man and a woman?

Is it not the sacred and final rite exchanged beneath God's blessing, before countless guests, by partners who have sworn to spend their lives together?

And yet not only had I let some man whose name I didn't even know into my bed, I'd nearly offered him my lips as well.

Thank goodness I woke up before our lips touched. Otherwise, my soul might have suffered an indelible wound.

Right. This wasn't just a nightmare.

It was an ill omen that shook not only my identity as a man, but my morals as a human being to their very foundations.

But at that moment, one fact I desperately didn't want to remember flashed through my mind.

A Saintess's dreams are prophetic.

A power granted only to the Saintess, allowing her to foresee a future that will someday come to pass.

“...Like hell it will.”

I shook my head, casting aside all thoughts of prophetic dreams. Prophetic dreams weren't fixed futures, and they could be twisted as much as necessary. I'd already altered quite a few prophecies myself.

Preventing a future like that was simple. If anyone tried to pull some shit on me, whoever they were, I'd just split their head in two.

Then unless I went insane and personally offered my body up to someone, there was no way that prophecy could come true.

Thinking of it that way made me feel considerably lighter.

The immediate problem, however, was that thanks to those damned dreams, I hadn't gotten a proper night's sleep in over a week.

Every time I closed my eyes, that fucking dream came without fail. I was sick and tired of waking up screaming.

A full week of forced insomnia made my body feel as heavy as though I were trudging through a swamp, while my mind drifted in a daze as if still wandering through a dream. Even suppressing the fatigue with divine power was reaching its limit.

As I stared blankly at the ceiling, blinking slowly, the growing commotion outside made me sit up.

“We're under attack! Demonic beasts are attacking! Everyone, form ranks and prepare yourselves!”

A demonic beast attack?

We were at the very outskirts of the Demon Realm. At most, a few low-ranking demonic beasts should crawl out around here, so I wondered why the Holy Knights were making such a fuss.

Just as I was about to lie back down, the composition of the expedition flashed through my mind.

‘...Ah, right. We came all the way out here to give those apprentice Holy Knights some experience.’

I couldn't even remember that immediately. Was the lack of sleep really messing with my head this badly?

The demonic beasts inhabiting the outskirts of the Demon Realm were little more than toys to fully fledged Holy Knights, but they were threatening enough for apprentices.

Vice-Captain Leonid was here, but things would be easier to settle if I helped.

“...I shouldn't need the Sacred Vestments.”

I had no desire to put on the Sacred Vestments just to deal with small-fry demonic beasts on the outskirts of the Demon Realm. Whatever their performance, the design of the Sacred Vestments was drenched in our goddess's perverted tastes... calling those scraps of cloth ‘clothes’ was embarrassing enough.

...I had absolutely no intention of putting that on and becoming eye candy for the apprentices.

After letting out a faint sigh, I threw a knight's coat over the simple clothes I'd worn to sleep. Then I picked up the holy spear ‘Astra,’ which had been propped beside the bed.

The heavy chill of steel touched my palm, and my mind, hazy as though shrouded in fog, seemed to clear a little.

I pulled open the tent flap. Along with the pale light of dawn, the uniquely foul stench of demonic beasts rushed into my nose.

“Report.”

I spoke in a low voice as I caught an apprentice Holy Knight by the back of his collar while he ran around frantically relaying the situation.

“S-Saintess? Th-That's...! What happened was... w-we were standing guard, and suddenly there was fog, no, there was some kind of sound...”

Rambling words, a face gone deathly pale.

Had the demonic beast attack sent him into a panic?

No way. Apprentice or not, they weren't so green that an attack by a few beasts from the outskirts would send them into panic.

Only then did I realize that, thanks to my prolonged insomnia, bloodlust was slowly leaking from my body.

I quickly reined it in, then sent a small amount of divine power into the apprentice Holy Knight to forcibly calm him down.

“Hey, sorry. I scared you, didn't I? You should be calm now, so summarize the situation and tell me briefly.”

“W-Well... an enormous number of demonic beasts suddenly attacked. But the Holy Knights on watch reacted quickly, and the ones resting at the encampment are gradually joining them.”

“Good. That's enough.”

Just as I started to move, the apprentice stepped in front of me.

“Saintess! You look terribly unwell. Even if you are the Saintess, you should leave this to us and get some rest...”

There was genuine concern in the apprentice's eyes as he blocked my path. The unexpected consideration drew a dry laugh from me.

‘...I'm in such bad shape that some green apprentice is worried about me?’

Well, I hadn't slept properly for a week. I suppose that wasn't surprising.

But there was probably another reason mixed into his concern.

‘The Silver Holy Spear.’

The epithet I was known by publicly was the result of my achievements in the Demon Realm, my own combat ability, and the Order leadership's meticulous publicity strategy all coming together.

After all, the image of a noble, powerful Saintess always fighting at the very front was perfect for stoking the believers' faith and squeezing donations out of them.

Those who knew the circumstances understood the Order's strategy to some extent, and because of that, there were a few people—not only outsiders but even newly admitted apprentices—who assumed my epithet was nothing more than ‘image-building.’

They wouldn't say that if they'd seen me fight demonic beasts or beat full-fledged Holy Knights black and blue in the training grounds even once.

I lightly spun the holy spear ‘Astra’ and rested it over my shoulder. The apprentice flinched at the sight of the heavy spear being handled like a toy.

“Hey.”

“...Yes?”

“...Yeees? Well, look at you. What's your name?”

“E-Eric.”

E-Eric, huh. What a remarkably unusual name. Once you become a proper knight, I'll make sure to lovingly take care of you through some sparring. You're a big guy too, so there'll be plenty of places to hit. Just imagining it made a grin spread across my face.

“Right. E-Eric. Stop worrying about pointless things, and if there are still any idiots sleeping their asses off, go kick them awake.”

Apparently sensing an indescribable sense of doom in my smile, the apprentice went pale. I gave him a light pat on the shoulder before sprinting toward the battlefield.

Slaughtering a few demonic beasts should help lift my mood from rock bottom.

Sorry about this, guys, but you're going to have to let me take out some frustration on you.

Gripping the holy spear Astra, I stepped toward the source of the demonic beasts' filthy stench.