Chapter 37

Chapter 37

A Strange Sense of Foreboding

“Saintess Beatrice, may I speak with you for a moment?”

As people began filing out after the meeting amid lingering confusion, Chairman Magnus called out to me.

“What is it?”

“It is difficult to discuss here. Would you join me in the chairman's office?”

“Hmm... Sure.”

I had no particular reason to refuse, so I decided to follow him.

After telling the old man and Leonid to return to the Western Palace first, I followed Chairman Magnus.

“Come in.”

The chairman's office could, in a sense, be considered the working office of the Holy Empire's emperor.

Yet the interior was remarkably plain.

Clergy generally avoided luxury.

Most of them didn't enjoy it in the first place.

Of course, novels often showed corrupt priests living in places covered in gold, and even Earth's history had seen religion fall into corruption and commit absurd abuses like selling indulgences.

Maybe religion and corruption were inseparable after all.

But the Holy Empire of this world didn't show that kind of rot.

I'd thought about why before.

Maybe it was because the seven Orders constantly kept each other in check while a powerful enemy called demons waited right outside their borders.

Whatever.

Enough about that.

Let's ask why the chairman called me.

“So why did you call me?”

“Would you care for some tea?”

Instead of answering, Chairman Magnus brewed me a cup.

When I took a sip, a bitter aroma spread through my mouth.

“...Ugh, bitter.”

“Haha. It's tea suited to old men's tastes, so I imagine it is somewhat bitter for you, Saintess. Still, nothing works quite as well for calming stress.”

“Oh.”

In that case, I could tolerate it.

I'd had plenty to stress over lately, so I should drink gratefully.

“For the moment, let us put aside why I called you. I would like to ask you something first.”

When I drained the tea in small sips, the chairman refilled my cup before continuing.

“What?”

“Do you believe war is approaching, Saintess?”

“...Hmm.”

That was a slightly difficult question.

A battle with the demons couldn't be avoided.

That was how the original story went, and in reality, Lust had already tried to fuck me over twice.

“Even if we look at things optimistically and assume Lust is the only faction moving among the demons, I don't think war can be avoided. At least not for our Order.”

The demons of Lust and the Eris Order were mortal enemies.

Lust would try to bring down our Order first.

And if we had to choose which demons to eliminate first, we'd choose Lust too.

“I see.”

“But didn't you personally say we need to prepare for war, Chairman? Why are you asking me that?”

Surely he hadn't called me all the way here just to have this conversation.

I turned the question back on him, trying to read his intentions.

“I believe the third ‘War of Ruin’ will occur before long.”

“...The War of Ruin?”

The War of Ruin.

The term referred to the two wars in which the demons and the Holy Empire had fought with their very existence on the line.

The First War of Ruin occurred while the gods still lived on the mortal plane.

That war continued for hundreds of years, eventually ending in an armistice without either side achieving victory.

Centuries of war had devastated the Lorencia Continent.

That outcome pleased neither the demons who wanted to conquer the continent nor the gods who wished to care for humanity.

Through that armistice, the demons were pushed back into the barren Demon Realm, while the gods ascended into the divine realm.

That marked the end of the Age of Gods and the beginning of the Age of Humanity.

The Second War occurred roughly five hundred years ago.

It began with meticulous demonic schemes and surprise attacks, and in its early stages, the Holy Empire was pushed to the brink of destruction.

Fortunately, thanks to the Saintess's prophetic dreams and heroes who appeared like stars shining even brighter in the darkness, humanity barely managed to drive the demons back into the Demon Realm.

In short, a War of Ruin was a massive conflict where humanity and demons staked everything on survival.

If a third War of Ruin was coming, another catastrophic war was about to begin.

I'd expected something like that to some extent.

But the thought of countless people dying made my chest tighten.

“Do you truly believe the third War of Ruin will happen?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I do. The ominous atmosphere now hanging over the continent feels chillingly similar to the days immediately before the Second War of Ruin five hundred years ago.”

“...From the way you say that, it sounds like you experienced that war yourself.”

“Yes. I did.”

...Right.

Dragonkin were long-lived.

They lived even longer than elves, who were already famous for longevity.

“Still, there is one fortunate thing. The Holy Empire is currently enjoying an unprecedented golden age.”

“Hmm... Is it?”

“Yes. We already have three Heroes in a generation where even one is rare.”

“Three?”

One was probably the original protagonist.

Another, absurdly enough, was Cassian.

Then who was the third?

“Ah, of course you wouldn't know. They've been keeping it tightly hidden, so it hasn't been announced yet...”

“Wait. If you're telling me something like that so you can make me do work later, I'd rather not hear it.”

This was obviously valuable information.

And when people in high places offered valuable information under the guise of kindness, it usually meant they wanted something in return.

And nine times out of ten, that ‘something’ was guaranteed to be a massive headache.

“You needn't worry. It truly is nothing more than a small favor.”

“...Well, if you say so.”

He was the chairman.

Surely he wouldn't go back on his word.

“The Hero is in the Hestia Order.”

“...Hestia?”

Hestia, Goddess of the Home and Hearth.

A god respected by all women, and known to possess the gentlest temperament among the gods.

Despite the Order's absolute principle of preserving chastity, relationships between women were permitted.

And if a priestess lost her chastity by force through some terrible incident, she wasn't expelled.

Instead, the Order warmly protected her.

Apparently she couldn't remain at the main temple and had to transfer to a branch, but still.

For an Order with such a gentle nature to produce a Hero whose entire purpose was killing demons was pretty surprising.

On top of that, as far as I knew, Hestia had never produced a single Hero in all of history.

Just as only women could become Saintesses, every Hero had always been male.

Having a male Hero in an Order that accepted only women was absurd...

Wait.

No way?

“Is the Hero a woman?”

“Oh. Sharp as ever. Yes.”

“...”

A thought suddenly occurred to me.

I'm wearing a female shell, but the thing inside is still a man, right?

Maybe a female Hero appeared to restore the broken gender balance?

Nah.

Probably not.

If anything, it'd make more sense if there were a man with a woman inside him.

And there's always a first time for everything.

Just because no female Hero had appeared before didn't mean one never could.

Of course, given that the very title Saintess explicitly means a holy woman, there's no way a man could become one.

“So what's your intention in telling me this?”

“I told you. A small favor.”

“...Right.”

Damn it.

Why do I feel so uneasy?

I stared at Magnus as he quietly sipped his tea.

...What the hell is he thinking?

I'm not good at reading people's minds to begin with.

Even if I were, there was no way I'd see through the thoughts of a cunning dragonkin snake who'd lived for more than five hundred years.

Silence settled over the room for a moment, and I used it to take another sip of tea.

‘...Ugh, this is disgustingly bitter.’

He said it was good for stress.

So why did I feel even more stressed?

Maybe it was because the chairman was being so suspicious that my stress was increasing in real time.

“What do you think of Cassian, the Eris Order's Hero candidate?”

Chairman Magnus broke the silence with that question.

What was he getting at?

Was he genuinely curious about Cassian?

Or had he noticed something strange about him?

Ah, my head hurts.

Don't overthink it.

“He's lacking. Honestly, he's pathetic enough that it's hard to believe he's a Hero candidate.”

I gave my frank assessment of Cassian.

“Hmm. It seems you don't like him very much, Saintess.”

“How could I?”

I've said it enough times to be sick of hearing myself, but Cassian was the bastard who destroyed our Order in the original story.

Even ignoring that, there was his frivolous behavior when we first met.

And despite being pitifully weak, he'd relied on talent alone without putting in any effort.

Sure, he'd changed somewhat lately...

But it was still far too early to trust him.

“Then how would you feel if he died?”

“I'd like to know what you mean by asking that.”

I stared straight at Magnus.

I couldn't read the emotion in those bright yellow eyes.

But something about this felt wrong.

“Or did you perhaps sense that ‘ominous atmosphere’ you mentioned in Cassian?”

If not, are you simply trying to pick a fight with our Order?

I kept that last part to myself.

“Haha. I meant nothing of the sort. Please consider it mere curiosity regarding Sir Cassian, given that we already have two outstanding Heroes.”

“Yes, well... Understood. And if possible, I'd appreciate it if you could examine his condition.”

One of the biggest reasons I'd brought Cassian all the way to Septimoa was my suspicion that he might be hiding something abnormal.

Well... considering no one had said anything so far, maybe he truly, genuinely was fine.

Still, you never knew.

If a Great Demon had tampered with him somehow, it might not be easy to detect.

“Why?”

“When he first came to our Order, I sparred with him. During that... well, I beat him pretty badly, and demonic energy started leaking from his body.”

“Hmm...? Is that so?”

Magnus, who had remained calm the entire time, finally showed interest.

No.

Interest wasn't quite right.

His expression looked closer to discomfort.

“After he got back up, did he behave differently than before? For example, as though he'd become an entirely different person?”

“...Well, he did change a lot.”

He went from a smug punk into a stubbornly earnest puppy.

So yeah.

He changed quite a bit.

“In that case, there is no need to delay any longer. I will tell you why I called you here.”

“Yes.”

What?

He'd been strangely circling around the subject and wasting time, and now he was suddenly getting to the point?

And what did he mean by ‘no need to delay any longer’?

That sounded suspiciously like he'd been deliberately keeping me here until now.

“I am considering granting you the title of Saint, Saintess Beatrice.”

“...Excuse me?”

But the words that came from Chairman Magnus were shocking enough to blow away the suspicion and distrust that had been steadily piling up inside me.

Saint.

A title granted to the Empire's strongest military assets.

“You look surprised.”

“...It seems like far too great a title for me.”

Being a Saint didn't come with any particularly special treatment.

It was basically the Holy Nation saying:

You're fucking strong.

We'll stake the nation's name on it.

That was about it.

But that didn't mean the title was handed out easily.

“You defeated a demon legion commander single-handedly. Once word spreads, people may find it stranger if we do not grant you the title of Saint.”

“I was merely lucky.”

Honestly, if Selenia hadn't let her guard down, I'd have ended up as her puppet without question.

“Even if she was careless, defeating a legion commander carries immense significance.”

“...There will be strong opposition, won't there?”

The title of Saint could only be granted through unanimous agreement among all seven Orders.

If I became a Saint, that would mean the Eris Order alone had three Saints.

In other words, our Order would pull one step ahead of the others.

There was no way the other Orders would be happy about that.

At present, Nike, Eris, and Justitia each had two Saints.

The remaining four Orders each had one.

Even including two Saints belonging to Orders outside the Seven Great Holy Orders, there were only twelve across the entire vast Holy Empire.

“You defeated a legion commander. I doubt anyone will object. That would bring the number of Saints in the Empire to thirteen.”

Thirteen.

That's a pretty ominous number.

Doesn't it sound like the kind of number where one Saint turns traitor or something?

Then again, I'm the one who brought Hans, Judas, and Griffith into the Holy Nation, so I probably don't have room to talk.

“Think about it. All seven Orders happen to be gathered here, so you could return to your Order already bearing the title of Saint.”

“...I'll think about it.”

There were too many things bothering me to simply snatch up the title.

I wasn't particularly interested in becoming a Saint to begin with.

And even if I were, I should discuss it with the old man first.

I needed to figure out what Chairman Magnus was really planning by suddenly trying to raise me to sainthood.

When it came to foul-smelling political games like this, the old man was far better than me.

“If that's all, may I leave?”

“Yes. You may.”

Magnus nodded far more readily than expected.

Hmm.

What?

Was I mistaken in thinking he'd wanted to keep me here?

I bowed lightly and left the chairman's office.

“I guess I'll head back to the Western Palace first.”

Without wasting any time, I started toward the Western Palace.

I needed to tell the old man about the conversation I'd just had with the chairman.

More importantly, an inexplicable sense of unease had started creeping over me.

And whenever I got this kind of bad feeling, something always happened.

So I hurried toward the Western Palace.