Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I Really Did Live My Ass Off

Apparently, the Saintess and the Pope abandon their original names and use names bestowed directly by the gods.

Pope Sylvester.

And Saintess Beatrice.

A name personally bestowed by none other than Eris, Goddess of Love and Battle.

...In other words, no matter how much I threw a tantrum and begged to change my name, it wouldn't do any good.

Well, fine. What's in a name, anyway? What matters isn't the wrapping, but what's inside, right?

I consoled myself like that and began my life as a Saintess.

Life as a Saintess was monotonous but packed.

At dawn, I woke early for prayers and Mass. It could've been boring, but I rather liked the gentle sound of prayers echoing around me, and prayer also let me sense and refine the divine power sleeping within me, so it became one of my favorite times of day.

During the mornings and afternoons that were originally supposed to be free time, I received combat training from Vargas, Captain of the Holy Knights.

When I first said I wanted to train in combat alongside the Holy Knights, Captain Vargas had...

“Not until there's dirt in my eyes!”

He'd shouted that with grim determination, but I'd already received permission from both the Goddess and His Holiness the Pope, so what could a mere(?) Captain of the Holy Knights possibly do about it?

Just in case, I'd even prepared a final trump card by bringing a handful of dirt with me, but fortunately, I never had to use it.

“Even if you are the Saintess, during training I will treat you exactly the same as the other knights. No, in fact, Saintess, you will have to undergo even harsher training.”

That was what Captain Vargas said when he finally accepted me.

I secretly dropped the dirt I'd been holding onto the ground and beamed. I still remember Captain Vargas's eye twitching as he watched the dirt fall.

I chose a spear as my weapon. I'd tried swords, axes, battle-axes, maces, and all sorts of others, but perhaps because I'd carried a wooden staff throughout my days as a street urchin, the spear simply felt most natural in my hands.

Captain Vargas was an extremely rigid stickler for principles, so even though I was the Saintess, he never went easy on me during training. But he was an excellent teacher.

At first, he'd been full of complaints about a Saintess receiving combat training, but once he saw me follow every lesson without complaint and absorb everything he taught me, he started smiling with satisfaction and bringing me snacks.

Even the Holy Knights who had hesitated, saying things like, “How could we possibly spar with the Saintess? What if she gets hurt or starts crying?” or “The Saintess wants to learn martial arts? Isn't this just childish curiosity?” began looking at me differently once I started mercilessly beating them with a practice staff and sending them to the healing room.

At night, I read boring scriptures and received lessons in doctrine from High Priest Bartolomew.

Nodding off from exhaustion after brutal training, or skipping class to curl up in a corner and sleep until the old man's furious shouting woke me, soon became an everyday sight in the Order.

Finally, right before bed, I'd place parchment on my desk, pick up a quill, and clutch my head.

“...Fuck, I barely remember anything about the original story.”

You know those scenes in transmigration stories?

The protagonist writes down everything they know about the original story, then pulls it out like a notebook of past mistakes whenever they hit a wall.

...Unfortunately, the moment I arrived here, I'd spent a full half-year barely surviving from one day to the next as a street urchin. Maybe because of that, much of my memory of the original had become blurry.

And since I'd dropped the series midway through, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I remembered almost nothing.

I barely even remembered the protagonist's name.

The one saving grace was that the arc I'd been reading right before dropping it had been about the Eris Order, and maybe because the developments had been so shocking, I still remembered quite a bit about it.

It was honestly strange that I could barely remember the protagonist's name yet still recall even small details about the Eris Order.

[Pope Sylvester: Fell ill, was imprisoned by Cassian, then died alone.]

[Captain Vargas: Never appeared in the story. I think it was mentioned that the previous captain died in the Demon Realm.]

[Leonid: This bastard was the captain in the original. Don't remember much, but I do remember he was a fucking delinquent.]

[Cassian: Fucking piece of shit]

Hmm... I've squeezed my brain dry and written down everything I can remember... How am I supposed to come up with countermeasures?

“First, keep Grandpa Pope healthy... Tell Captain Vargas to be careful whenever he goes into the Demon Realm, or go with him... Leonid's still young, so I can beat him into becoming a decent person... Hmmm... But what the hell am I supposed to do about that fucking bastard Cassian?”

And so, right before bed, I'd scribble down whatever fragments of memory occasionally surfaced in my mind.

Time flowed like water amid those busy days.

After living diligently like that, I entered real combat for the first time when I turned fifteen.

I would've loved to pull some overpowered-protagonist nonsense and smash everything apart like in a novel, but the moment I saw those horrific demonic beasts, I froze in terror, trembling too badly to do anything.

Several Holy Knights were badly injured because of me. It taught me painfully well that training and actual combat were two entirely different things.

Still, having experienced real combat once, during the next expedition I barely managed to keep my head together and cut down a demonic beast.

Of course, afterward the sensation of cutting into a living creature—even if it was a demonic beast—lingered in my hands, leading to the unfortunate event of seeing everything I'd eaten that day come back up, and I barely slept that night either.

Once those inexperienced days passed, I'd become bold enough to joke around with the Holy Knights after killing demonic beasts, while my spear techniques improved by leaps and bounds.

Time passed, and by the time people were calling me the Silver Holy Spear, I'd turned twenty and undergone my coming-of-age ceremony.

As a congratulatory gift, the Goddess personally bestowed upon me the Sacred Vestments and the holy spear Astra.

Astra truly was the perfect spear.

Its length and size adjusted to fit my body, its shaft was sleek and beautifully crafted, no one but me could even lift it, it could change form for easy carrying, and its conductivity for divine power was excellent.

Well... I could praise it endlessly if I wanted.

When I first received Astra, I loved it so much I even hugged it while sleeping in bed, so that should tell you enough.

...But the damned Sacred Vestments that came with Astra were a different story.

The first time I eagerly used divine power to put on the Sacred Vestments.

I kicked open the prayer room door, grabbed the Goddess by the collar, and shook her back and forth.

Well, she hadn't actually descended in person, so to be precise, that's what I wanted to do.

“Goddess, are you insane?! How the hell am I supposed to walk around wearing this?!”

I was in such a hurry that I didn't even close the prayer room door after kicking it open and started screaming at the Goddess like some blasphemous lunatic. I heard old Bartolomew, who'd been waiting outside, clutch the back of his neck and collapse, but that wasn't important.

[My, what an enthusiastic reaction. Do you like the Sacred Vestments that much?]

“Like them, my ass! What is this? You call this clothing? It's a few scraps of fabric!”

The Sacred Vestments blatantly exposed my cleavage, while the sides were completely open, leaving bare skin exposed.

[You don't understand your own value. That perfect body, those beautiful curves and supple skin. Hiding a body that is nothing short of a divine masterpiece beneath dull armor would be a sin.]

“No! What kind of perverted bullshit is that?! The Saintesses of the other Orders wear modest ceremonial robes that cover them all the way up to the neck, so why am I the only one dressed like this?”

[If you are to serve me, the Goddess of Love and Battle, shouldn't you first embrace your own beauty? Think about how the other children of our Order dress.]

“Uh...”

She had a point. Compared to the other Orders, the priestesses of the Eris Order dressed very freely and showed a rather daring amount of skin.

Far from being ashamed of it, they treated displaying their beautiful bodies as a point of pride.

“...But my Sacred Vestments take exposure to a whole different level.”

Come on, this is too much! Honestly, there's more uncovered than covered!

[My, you're the highest-ranking woman in the Order. Naturally, you should display your beauty even more. And you're an adult now, aren't you? Hehe, waiting until you came of age was terribly difficult.]

“...So even you knew this outfit would be a problem if a minor wore it?”

I lowered my head and glanced at the Sacred Vestments, then squeezed my eyes shut at the festival of exposed skin and replied sarcastically.

[Of course.]

“Don't admit it that easily!”

We bickered for quite a while, but Goddess Eris stubbornly declared, in the most childish manner possible, ‘I can't change the Sacred Vestments I've already given you. Go back. If you don't wear them, I'll sulk!’

And just like the joke that exposure and defense are inversely proportional, their actual performance was incredible, so I had no choice but to begrudgingly accept the Sacred Vestments.

Anyway, equipped with the Sacred Vestments and Astra, I threw myself into the Demon Realm and spent another year there.

I've summarized it simply, but haven't I lived one hell of an eventful life?

Thinking back, I'd worked without rest for thirteen years since possessing this body. I should've lived this diligently in my previous life too.

The problem now was that I had absolutely no idea when the original story was supposed to begin. Cassian would probably enter our Order around then too.

...Was there some event I'd recognize? How did the original story start again?

“...Sis. Sis!”

While I was thinking about that, a familiar voice struck my ears and dragged me out of my thoughts.

“...You're loud. Why are you so desperate for my attention, Leonid?”

Putting my memories aside, I turned to the side. Apparently Leonid had woken up at some point and was calling me insistently.

The huge lump sticking out of the top of his head looked so ridiculous that I couldn't keep a snicker from slipping out.

“Don't laugh. Do you have any idea how many times I've called you?”

“So why were you calling me so desperately?”

“We're almost back at the Order.”

“Oh, we're already there?”

I looked up at the sky and realized that deep darkness had already settled over us.

“Yeees, we are. But what in the world were you thinking about that you couldn't hear me no matter how many times I called? Were you dozing off? You've been whining lately about not being able to sleep.”

“No, I wasn't dozing. I was just... lost in thought, I guess?”

“...Oh? I didn't know you were even capable of something as refined as contemplation, Sis...”

“Go on. Please, continue.”

“No, ma'am.”

Why does this bastard only ever say things that make me want to hit him?

Maybe he likes being hit?

“...Hmm.”

I rubbed my chin and narrowed my eyes at Leonid. He looked perfectly normal on the outside, but did he secretly have that kind of weird preference?

“Sis, the way you're looking at me is making me uncomfortable.”

“No. Never mind.”

Well, I suppose people's personal preferences ought to be respected.

Having reached that conclusion, I nodded and turned my gaze forward again.

“I don't know what conclusion you just reached by yourself, but I can assure you it's absolutely wrong.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Could you at least pretend to care when you answer me?”

Leonid grumbled unhappily.

“We're almost there, so take proper charge of the members. Count everyone several times and make sure no one's missing. Send the injured straight to the healing room. Check them for any lingering demonic energy and ask the priests to purify them too.”

“You do realize that's normally your job, right, Sis?”

“Sorry, but I'm hopeless when it comes to healing or purification.”

“What an impressive thing to brag about.”

For a moment, irritation surged through me and I clenched my fist, but I held myself back.

We had arrived at the Order, which meant the Holy Knights now needed to be organized and dismissed properly. And that was the vice-captain's responsibility, not the Saintess's.

Most of the members on this expedition were apprentices. Their attention hadn't been focused on us while marching or immediately after the battle, but now was different. I had to preserve at least some of their vice-captain's dignity in front of them.

...And just as I'd said, I really had no talent whatsoever for healing and purification.

I could use recovery spells to some extent, but I fell far short of what you'd expect from a Saintess.

My purification skills were worse than an apprentice priest's.

That was because most of my sacred arts were heavily focused on combat.

Still, my combat buffs were good enough to earn praise even from the impossibly strict old Bartolomew, so wasn't that enough?

Every Order has its own strengths and weaknesses depending on its nature, right?

I'm the Saintess of Eris, who isn't only the Goddess of Love but also the Goddess of Battle, so there's nothing strange about it. Mm-hmm. Exactly.

“I'm heading in now. Good work.”

“Yes, yes. Get some proper rest, Saintess.”

“Yep.”

After saying that, I turned to head toward my room inside the Order.

“...Huh?”

But sudden dizziness struck me, and the world began spinning.

“Saintess? Are you all right?”

Fortunately, Leonid quickly stepped over and supported me, sparing me the embarrassment of collapsing onto the ground.

Smack-

But the instant our bodies touched, it felt as though the sensation from those sinister dreams that had tormented me throughout the expedition came rushing back. Without thinking, I violently slapped Leonid's hand away and staggered several steps back.

“Why are you getting mad when I'm just trying to help? Now you're making things awkward.”

“...Sorry. You just startled me.”

I apologized to Leonid with a guilty expression.

After all, coldly swatting away the hand of someone who'd stopped me from falling was a shitty thing to do.

“Saintess, go inside and get some proper sleep. You seriously look awful.”

Normally, he would've joked, ‘The Saintess is actually apologizing?’ but Leonid spoke without a trace of playfulness, his expression genuinely worried.

“...Do I really look that bad?”

“Yeees. You were out of it the entire time in the Demon Realm, and you seriously look terrible. Give it a little longer and those dark circles will reach your chin.”

“Got it. I should go straight to sleep.”

“Rest well.”

I lightly waved in response to Leonid's farewell, then headed toward my room.

...Praying that tonight, for once, I wouldn't have that fucking dream.