Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Pick Up a Weapon. Let's Fight.

It had already been three days since I'd smashed Cassian's head into the marble floor.

The aftereffects of visiting the divine realm had completely disappeared by now.

Perhaps because all the impurities and waste accumulated inside my body had been flushed out, I felt far lighter than before.

And the curse Lilith had placed on me was gone, meaning I'd escaped that potential threat too. Even my heart felt as light as a feather at the thought that I probably wouldn't have those fucking nightmares anymore, even when I entered the Demon Realm.

The total amount of divine power I possessed hadn't increased, but there had been a clearly noticeable improvement in efficiency and output.

That alone would've been satisfying enough, but on top of it, I'd crushed half the face of Cassian, who in a way had been the first major obstacle I needed to overcome.

They were truly happy, beautiful days.

Or they would've been, if not for one piece of news that made me want to clutch the back of my neck.

“No, old man! Why? Why the hell?!”

The moment I heard the disastrous news, I stormed into the Archbishop's office and slammed both hands down on the desk while glaring at old Bartolomew.

The teacup on the desk rattled, spilling some of the perfectly brewed tea across the surface.

“Saintess, mind your dignity. The matter has already been decided.”

The old man frowned as though my voice hurt his ears and wiped the spilled tea away with a handkerchief.

“That bastard isn't a Hero candidate, he's someone colluding with demons! Why the hell are we accepting someone like that instead of throwing him out?! Didn't you see all that demonic energy pouring off him? Huh? When I pushed divine power into him to check, he was in agony!”

“I witnessed the same scene and found it suspicious as well. However, a decision already made cannot simply be overturned.”

The old man remained firm despite my furious shouting.

“Did you investigate him?”

“Yes. I personally examined him this morning. There was a small amount of residual demonic energy, but I had no choice but to conclude it was contamination caused by prolonged stays in the Demon Realm.”

“Wasn't there way too much for that? I'm talking about the demonic energy pouring out of him during the combat evaluation.”

Right.

If the old man, who was an expert in purification and dispelling curses, said that, then it was probably true.

Still, if that much demonic energy had accumulated inside his body, it would've been remarkable for him to remain alive even with a Hero's physique.

There had to be something the old man couldn't detect.

Maybe Lilith had tampered with Cassian's body just like she'd tampered with mine.

“You are correct. It was an unnaturally large amount. He could have received power from demons through collusion, or perhaps he was afflicted with some curse that caused demonic energy to accumulate within him. Your suspicion is entirely reasonable.”

“Right, old man? Finally, we're speaking the same language.”

So the old man had been thinking along the same lines after all.

Huh?

Wait.

Something about the way he said that was weird.

“Huh? Did you just say ‘could have accumulated,’ old man?”

“Yes.”

“That means you're not certain.”

“That is also correct.”

The old man answered calmly while taking a sip of tea.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you literally pulverized the Hero candidate, Saintess. Curse, evidence of collusion, whatever it may have been—once you've smashed him that thoroughly, there is hardly any trace left to examine.”

According to the old man, I'd just committed the legendary stupidity of personally destroying all the evidence myself.

I opened and closed my mouth, unable to say anything.

“If you suspected him, you should have acted carefully. How are you supposed to demand evidence after obliterating every trace of it?”

“...Fine. Let's say that's true. But didn't you see his attitude? Even you didn't like that bas— I mean, that guy, right?”

After thinking for a moment, I settled on his attitude.

Whatever else, his behavior had been rotten from the start.

He wasn't suited to the title of Hero in the first place.

“Of course I disliked him. He was an insolent man with not even a shred of manners.”

“Right? He was delinquent, cocky, frivolous, always spouting ridiculous nonsense, his mouth was filthy too...”

I was enthusiastically tearing Cassian apart when I noticed the old man's gaze growing stranger and stranger.

“Why are you looking at me like that, old man?”

I stopped insulting Cassian and tilted my head at him.

“...Nothing. I was merely thinking that perhaps he is a Hero perfectly suited to you, Saintess.”

“What? Even from you, old man, I won't tolerate that kind of statement. Explain immediately why you would utter such slander.”

“Birds of a feather flock together, do they not? Perhaps you should calmly reflect upon your own conduct.”

What the hell, old man?

What have I ever done?

Where could you possibly find a Saintess as conscientious and trouble-free as me?

A suspicious number of scenes flashed through my head, but I easily shoved them into the deepest corner of my memory.

“It cannot be denied that the man's conduct is unacceptable, but His Holiness has decided to give him more time and observe him.”

“...Damn it.”

“Besides, we cannot casually discard a Hero candidate. You know that as well as I do.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

The Saintess, who possessed prophetic dreams, was irreplaceable.

The same was true of the Hero, born with an exceptionally powerful body and outstanding talent.

Heroes were born carrying the duty of defeating demonic beasts and demons, and ultimately even Great Demons.

As symbols of both military might and hope, Heroes actually held even more public influence than Saintesses.

No matter how much of a human piece of garbage Cassian might be, from the Order's standpoint it made sense to at least try to straighten him out and make use of him.

And Grandpa Pope had already granted him a period of grace.

There was effectively nothing I could do.

...But Cassian was dangerous.

Thinking about what that bastard did in the original story, who cared about the symbolic value of a Hero?

I wouldn't have felt guilty storming into the healing room right now and ripping his head off.

“I say this out of concern, but do not entertain any strange ideas.”

“...I'm not.”

“You are wearing precisely the expression you make before causing trouble.”

“I won't. I do know how to think, you know.”

At this point, I couldn't personally harm Cassian.

If I did, wouldn't that make it look as though the Saintess were openly defying the Pope?

In other words, the Order's second-in-command would be rebelling against its leader.

Over something as serious as the Hero candidate.

Our Order would probably tear itself apart for entirely different reasons.

Creating internal chaos while Cassian was still inside was absolutely not a good move.

The best I could do might be something petty, like pushing him toward dangerous assignments and praying he got into an accident, or harassing him until he left on his own.

But that kind of method wasn't really my style.

...Huh?

Come to think of it, maybe I wasn't out of options.

There was one absolute trump card that only the Saintess could use, wasn't there?

“Old man, I had a dream.”

At my opening words, the old man lowered his teacup and stared directly at me.

“You mean a prophetic dream?”

“Yeah. And in it, this bastard makes our Order... Hmm, because of this guy, our Order gets completely fuck— I mean, completely destroyed.”

“How many times must I tell you to refrain from such vulgar language? And it is obvious you are lying.”

I flinched at his firm tone.

No, it's true!

Sure, I hadn't personally dreamed it, but I knew the future in the form of the ‘original story.’

Couldn't that be considered a kind of prophetic dream in its own way?

“And if you had truly experienced such a prophetic dream, you would have mentioned it long ago. Would you not?”

“I-It was a dream I had today.”

At my awkward excuse, the old man's eyes moved toward the clock on the wall.

“What time is it now? Ah, three in the afternoon. You wake at six in the morning, meaning you went nine full hours without mentioning the dream. Moreover, considering your personality, you would have stormed into the healing room and caused a scene the moment you woke.”

“...”

Damn it.

As expected, this sharp old man was terrifying.

I had nothing else to say, and lying outright about having a prophetic dream made my conscience prick at me, so in the end, I could only pout and leave his office.

“Ugh, this is seriously annoying.”

I clicked my tongue as I walked down the corridor.

Until a moment ago, I'd felt like I was soaring through the sky.

Now I felt like I'd been thrown into a sewer.

Still, thinking about it, this might actually be for the best.

Cassian—the bastard I've repeated so many times is dangerous that even I'm probably getting sick of hearing it—is the kind of black-hearted bastard who could do anything.

Rather than exiling him and letting him scheme freely outside, it might be better to keep him inside where I could watch him.

After all, I was still fully on guard against him.

But what if Cassian tried something inside the Order?

And what if I had no way to stop whatever he did?

“...Hmm. I don't know.”

This kind of headache-inducing worry doesn't suit me anyway.

I'll just deal with it when it happens.

For today, I'll be satisfied that I made the old man more cautious.

Later, I'll go talk to Grandpa Pope too.

And it'll take Cassian a while to wake up, so I still have plenty of time.

I shook off my gloomy mood and headed toward the training grounds with a cheerful step.

After all, I'd promised to spar with Leonid today.

Leonid had looked incredibly excited about sparring with me too.

Maybe he was already waiting?

I reached the training grounds with that expectation, but Leonid was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! Leonid! You remember I told you we'd meet in the training grounds once I got better, right? Come out while I'm still asking nicely!”

I lightly acknowledged the Holy Knights greeting me, walked into the center of the training ground, and shouted at the top of my lungs.

The peaceful atmosphere froze instantly at my words.

The Holy Knights who had been diligently swinging their weapons stopped mid-motion, remaining frozen exactly as they were.

A chilly silence descended.

There was still no sign of Leonid, and the members merely glanced at each other while keeping their mouths firmly shut.

“Oho? This is interesting.”

Seeing their reaction, I raised the corner of my mouth slightly.

Then I leisurely walked between the stiffened knights.

At the rack of practice weapons along the edge of the training grounds, I picked up a wooden staff.

The sound of Holy Knights swallowing nervously echoed loudly through the silence.

“Where did Leonid go?”

I spoke in the lowest, most sinister voice I could manage.

“S-Saintess. The vice-captain is currently... feeling unwell and resting.”

“That's right. He said he absolutely had to rest for the entire day.”

They answered in awkwardly stiff voices like machines acting in a terrible play.

Their darting eyes and pouring cold sweat made it obvious to anyone that they were lying.

I gave a small laugh and lightly tapped the wooden staff against the ground.

“Ooh... Is that so? So this is the depth of loyalty among the Holy Knights of our Order?”

I clapped sarcastically.

Their faces grew white as sheets.

Still, no answer came back.

Watching them pour sweat and turn pale while desperately trying to protect Leonid was truly moving.

In that case, I should give my wonderfully loyal Holy Knights a gift, shouldn't I?

“Right. I can't force sick Leonid to come out. I'm not such an unreasonable person, am I, guys?”

“...”

“Answer me.”

At my cold prompting, a disjointed chorus of “That's right!” and “Yes!” finally erupted, accompanied by frantic nodding that looked like their necks might snap.

“Good. Then today, instead of Leonid, you guys can spar with me. One at a time. Come here.”

I spun the wooden staff, rested it on my shoulder, and crooked a finger at them.

The once solemn atmosphere of the training grounds instantly turned into a funeral.

The knights exchanged silent looks of terror.

Then several of them broke from the formation with determined expressions and ran off.

As expected, nothing ruled people quite as effectively as fear.

Roughly guessing what was about to happen, I hummed to myself and lightly stretched.

A short while later, someone was dragged across the dirt of the training ground amid desperate screams.

“You fucking traitors! Let go of me! This is insubordination!”

The one kicking up clouds of dust as he was dragged along was, naturally, Leonid.

The knights threw him at my feet like fanatics offering a sacrifice, then quickly retreated.

“Y-You cowardly bastards...!”

Leonid stared at the Holy Knights with betrayal in his eyes.

But they were already thoroughly ignoring him, either staring into the distance or studying the ground.

“Maybe you should've built up more goodwill with your men.”

“Ghk... So unfair.”

Leonid trembled.

“Pick up a weapon. Let's fight.”

I smiled brightly at him as I spoke.

If I wanted to get accustomed to this newly reborn body, there was no sparring partner more suitable than Leonid.

All right.

Time to see what this new body can do.