Taming the Evil Saintess

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“Is that even something you should be saying right now?!”

With a frown, the Shadow of God Benedict turned his head to the side.

It had been a long time since he, a skilled assassin, had experienced a slap like that. Yet, he could neither get angry nor draw his weapon.

After all, it was the Pope he was dealing with.

Pope Yudor Meredein was spitting everywhere as he ranted on.

“What do you mean you couldn’t even deal with a single apostate? You used curses, tricks, and even poisons, and you lost three valuable squad members? And on top of that, you resorted to using paralysis poison on the Saint? What were you thinking if it left lasting effects?!”

“…I apologize.”

“Above all, the biggest mistake is that you left that apostate, Elliot, alive!”

“…But that was the Sword Saint’s…”

“Silence!”

Smack!

The Pope was trembling, his hand raised in indignation.

He exuded no dignity befitting the leader of the Saints.

“If you launch an attack in someone else’s territory, the least you could do is leave no trace! You couldn’t even kill a single apostate and had to call in the Sword Saint? Do you truly believe your level is worthy of the name Shadow of God?!”

“I have no excuses. It’s all due to my lack of ability. The deaths of my squad members and the harm done to the Holy Lady…”

Though he said that, Benedict felt a bit aggrieved.

Initially, the report indicated that Elliot was no more than a level 2 threat. He had believed three Shadows of God could handle him, but Elliot turned out to be far stronger than they anticipated.

Out of seven squad members, three were dead, and three were severely injured. Essentially, Benedict was the only one still able to move properly.

Of course, such a defense would mean nothing to the Pope. Here, bowing his head was the only sensible choice.

Though it didn’t mean he’d take it without a fight.

Whoosh.

A hot teacup flew through the air and struck Benedict on the forehead.

After ranting, the Pope shook his head furiously and turned away.

“Useless fool.”

“…”

Benedict suppressed the urge to curse as he shook off the droplets clinging to his hair.

In any case, he was grateful for the success of the mission. Had he failed even that, he might have ended up with a blade in his back.

The Pope stomped into the middle of the room and collapsed into a chair.

“Benedict.”

“Yes?”

“A conference is about to start.”

The Pope had somehow brought several cardinals with him.

The Shadow of God, who was supposed to remain shrouded in mystery, had summoned Benedict to publicly humiliate him.

It was infuriating, but he endured.

“During the conference, the leaders cannot concern themselves with outside matters. Do whatever it takes to clean up the mess.”

“…Understood.”

“If that apostate is still alive, you must kill him by any means necessary. He’s the only witness to this incident. Leave no trace behind.”

“I will remember that.”

It was an impossible command.

Benedict could not defeat Elliot alone.

Assassination? Impossible. The guy had seen right through his stealth techniques in the dark.

Blowing them both up? That was equally impossible. Elliot’s body wouldn’t crumble from a mere explosion.

There was only one method left.

Using the Holy Lady as a hostage.

“I will do whatever it takes to fulfill this task.”

“Good.”

With that, the Pope ceased his humiliation for the moment.

Benedict returned to his place.

However, silence didn’t last long.

Bang!

The door flew open, and a high priest rushed in.

He was in such a hurry that his glasses were barely hanging off his nose.

“Your Holiness!”

“Maintain your composure.”

“I apologize…! However, it’s an urgent situation…”

“What is it?”

The priest spoke shakily, relaying the information.

“Downstairs, Cathedral Knight Rowan and Inquisition Officer Yurede are fighting.”

“Fighting? What kind of fight?”

“…A sword fight.”

At that, the Pope and the cardinals frowned in unison.

In the Grand Assembly Hall that wasn’t even within the domain of Saints, a Cathedral Knight and an Inquisition Officer were actually clashing fiercely.

How could such a thing happen?

While everyone was thinking this, the priest added one more thing.

“And… the Holy Lady has escaped.”

“Wha—what do you mean?!”

That news elicited a fierce reaction from the Pope.

Ophelia had been forcibly captured. Naturally, she wasn’t cooperating with the Saint or the Pope. They had intended to wrap up the conference and throw her into the Punishment Room, thinking that six months in there would properly re-educate her.

But now, the Holy Lady had escaped.

And this was the Grand Assembly Hall where leaders from across the continent had gathered.

Though she was the asset of the Saints, she was also the asset of the entire continent.

If her existence and the deeds done by the Shadows of God were publicly revealed, it would lead to countless issues to address.

In the worst-case scenario, it might even trigger a war.

“Benedict.”

Naturally, the mission of tracking the Holy Lady fell to Benedict.

“Yes.”

“Capture her. Whatever it takes, you must. It’s fine to use poison. It’s acceptable if you have to sever a limb. You can always reattach it. But it mustn’t be discovered by outsiders. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I will obey your orders.”

Just as Benedict was about to bow his head, another priest rushed in through the now wide-open door.

“Your Holiness! I have something to report!”

“What now?!”

The Pope exclaimed with evident annoyance, and the priest stuttered as he spoke.

“Uh, the Sword Saint, the Hound, the next Archmage, and the Archery Master… Lastly, the apostate Elliot has come to the annex.”

“…”

A moment of silence.

The Pope tilted his head slightly.

Benedict did the same.

“…Huh?”

The news was absurdly unbelievable.

*

Though hastily assembled, our party could only be described as this.

The Avengers.

“Tell the Pope to come out.”

First and foremost, the party members were overwhelming.

Without a doubt, the most famous swordsman on the continent, Sword Saint Albrecht.

A girl adored by the Archmage, Emily, who was a disciple of the Archmage.

Owen, the Hound, who’s regarded as the very best agent in the Information Bureau’s history.

Erwin, the Archery Master from the Vinheim Tribe, known for his outstanding skills even among the Great Forest.

And then there’s me.

“Uh, um…”

The appearance of such a lavish squad would confuse the Cathedral Knights guarding the entrance, especially when they demanded entry.

Were they here for a conference, or had they genuinely come for a fight?

I imagine they only figured out what was going on after I sent one of them spinning three times in the air with my punch.

“Isn’t it a bit much to throw punches first?”

“We’re gonna fight anyway.”

The Sword Saint said with a reluctance in his voice, but I didn’t care.

To be honest, my patience had worn thin with these Saintly types.

With that, I kicked the door to the annex open, and inside, priests and Knights looked at me as if they had seen a ghost.

I must have looked terrifying.

Drawing my sword, I declared, “If you don’t want to lose your heads, get the hell out of my sight.”

And their reactions were as follows.

“C-Citizen invasion!”

“Apostate Elliot! Capture him!”

This is precisely why I can’t stand priests.

They would charge in knowing they would lose, like moths to a flame.

Albrecht let out a deep sigh as he unsheathed his sword, while Owen and Erwin stepped back to observe. Naturally, I also swung my sword casually but with my strength dialed down.

“Gack!”

Of course, even a mere strike from the holy sword would hurt more than a regular club.

Not killing them was simply because it would complicate things later. I couldn’t slay every Knight in the Saintly Order just to save Ophelia, and my hesitation stemmed partly from our previous shared meals.

But Emily was a different story.

“Return the Holy Lady! You son of a b*tch!”

Bang! Bang!

The sound of air bursting echoed repeatedly.

Emily was unleashing magic on every priest in front of her with fervor, seemingly producing physical force from magic to strike her enemies.

If one were to name that form of magic, perhaps it could be called ‘Air Punch’.

In any case, thanks to Emily’s unseen punching, we didn’t need to move at all as we ascended the stairs leading to the second floor.

We proceeded down the corridor and opened the door leading to the central passage of the annex.

There, we found…

“Yurede…? You still alive?”

Yurede was slumped against the wall, his joints twisted in unnatural ways, covered in blood but not dead.

Upon hearing his name, Yurede turned his gaze toward me. Despite his ragged body, his eyes were bright and alert.

“Oh, you’ve come. I was waiting.”

“Not exactly the kind of situation that looks like you were waiting.”

“Yes. I wasn’t really waiting. Just had a bit of a ruckus. Those Cathedral Knights are surprisingly tough.”

With those words, Yurede’s gaze shifted, and following it, I spotted Rowan, who had rolled his eyes back and was unconscious.

“Did you two fight?”

“It’s a draw. No, since I’m the one awake, I guess it’s my win. Heh heh.”

“…Doesn’t seem like something to be proud of.”

“I’m proud. Because I bought time until the Holy Lady could escape.”

“Where’s Ophelia?”

“She went out to the corridor and headed toward the main building.”

If she had slipped past…

I clicked my tongue, about to step away when I glanced back at Yurede.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Um. I think I’m fine.”

Even Yurede seemed unsure, muttering in a barely audible tone, “Maybe…”

“You’re not going to die, are you?”

“I won’t die. I think I have a pretty long lifespan. Well, my body isn’t in great shape, but… at least I can heal with Holy Magic. Haha.”

As he spoke, Yurede raised his oddly bent thumb as if he didn’t feel any pain, causing Emily to step back in horror.

Owen, standing behind, placed a hand to his forehead as if he were having a headache.

“Are all Inquisition Officers like this?”

“Probably not.”

Even I wasn’t sure.

*

Meanwhile, Ophelia was dashing down the corridor.

The distance between the main building and annex wasn’t particularly far. The problem was that Ophelia’s strides weren’t very wide.

“Huff, huff. This is so hard… huff…”

She had already been running for a few minutes and had barely made it half the way.

The corridor stretched endlessly, and on top of that, Ophelia was barefoot.

She could feel shards of stone embedded in her soles, blood trickling down.

She hadn’t healed with Holy Magic. She knew she’d just get hurt again.

She planned to get to the main building, where she could ask any Knight or Archmage for help, and then she could deal with her injuries then.

Just as she took a moment to catch her breath and was about to step forward again…

“Stop right there.”

A chilling voice.

Ophelia recognized that voice.

“Damn it. Between that bastard Dick and you, why are you all so eager to eat me alive?”

Turning her head, she found the Shadow of God Benedict standing there.

“It’s the Holy Father’s orders.”

“Is that so? Then how about I give you the Holy Lady’s command? Why don’t you just bite your tongue and die right here?”

“I cannot do that.”

Benedict slowly approached Ophelia.

He didn’t seem concerned about her defenses. After all, Ophelia was practically defenseless.

“Please cooperate. We need the Holy Lady.”

“What for?”

“To kill that apostate, Elliot.”

“…”

Upon hearing those words, Ophelia’s expression completely changed.

What had been simple displeasure morphed into near rage.

“You bastard, how dare you…”

“Um…”

Even Benedict seemed taken aback by the sudden shift in Ophelia’s demeanor as he frowned.

Ophelia raised her hand. Divine Power gathered in her grasp.

“It won’t work. A barrier wouldn’t protect you against my sword energy…”

Benedict, who had been speaking, abruptly shut his mouth.

What Ophelia was conjuring wasn’t a barrier.

It was a sword.

A sword made of golden Divine Power.

An entity similar to sword energy had formed in Ophelia’s hand.

“Let’s die together today.”

“Wha—”

Ophelia nonchalantly lowered her shoulder, tilting her sword, while Benedict realized the origin of that posture.