Taming the Evil Saintess

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“Forget what you just saw.”

Carried on my back, Ophelia whined.

Ophelia had hurt her leg because of that jerk Benedict, which meant she would be unable to walk for a while. Though Holy Magic had staunched the bleeding, it seemed the deep wound would require several days to heal.

More than anything, it appeared that Ophelia was more psychologically scarred than physically injured.

“Emily that bitch, if she had just told me beforehand, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Haha.”

“Don’t laugh. I’ll bite you.”

Ophelia, caught in her Holy Garment and accidentally showing off her bare skin, must have been beside herself in frustration.

Ultimately, right after that, Ophelia put her Holy Garment back on. Fortunately, since Albrecht and Owen had gone off to deal with the Knight Order, I was the only man present, and the entire ordeal was thoroughly supervised by Emily, who called herself the sheriff, so I avoided the unfortunate scenario of witnessing Ophelia’s outdoor strip show.

“Don’t even think about peeping. You might die.”

Before changing her clothes, Ophelia said that to me.

In an attempt to reassure her, I replied:

“Haha, don’t worry. I don’t even have the slightest itch to sneak a peek.”

And then came her absurd retort.

“Consider it an ant’s tear!”

Confused, I turned to Emily, who had turned as red as a tomato and was subtly looking away.

I couldn’t comprehend Ophelia at all.

Anyway, Benedict was taken care of, and now only the final reckoning remained.

“So, Ophelia, what do you want to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I want to give the Pope a really good punch.”

“Really? Elliot, what a coincidence. I was just thinking the same.”

“Shall we go?”

“Let’s go.”

At that moment, we were on the same wavelength.

We promptly returned to the annex, and by now, the inside had been tidied up with a mere word from Albrecht and Owen.

The priests were trembling in fear at my blood-soaked appearance. They looked at me as if they were staring at Satan.

“Do I look that fearsome?”

“Yep.”

That was Albrecht’s immediate response.

We sought the Pope, but before we could, Ophelia called me over, saying she had something to discuss.

“Yurede.”

“Oh. It’s you again. Impressive.”

Yurede was still hanging there like a wall-mounted TV.

Ophelia cast Holy Magic to heal him. The sight of his bones returning to their original state was almost grotesque.

“Oh. This is the blessing of the Saint Lady…! I, Yurede, don’t know where to put myself! I swear my loyalty with my life from now on! Ah, right, Gears. Let’s use Gears!”

“Tell that guy to shut up.”

“Impossible.”

*

Pope Yudor was on the top floor of the annex.

Seeing the door firmly locked, I prepared to break it down. But Ophelia struck my back and pulled out a hairpin.

“Hey, you idiot, that’s why you’re suffering. Use your head a little.”

With that, she picked the lock with the hairpin.

Before I knew it, Owen had followed us and was shocked by her ridiculous skills.

“Is it difficult?”

“Usually, you need specialized tools…”

Now that I think about it, Ophelia’s lock-picking skill was quite high in the game.

In any case, thanks to her, we could enter the Pope’s room without bloodshed.

Naturally, Pope Yudor and five cardinals were staring at us as if they had seen ghosts.

“Hey, you little brats. How have you been?”

That was Ophelia’s line. She strutted like a general riding a white horse, crossing the room to stand by Yudor’s desk.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing…! Do you have any idea where this place is?!”

Yudor shouted, his Holy Garment adorned in gold shimmering dramatically.

However, no one present bothered to listen to him.

“Alright, Mr. Pope. Let’s view the situation rationally. Who’s in a disadvantageous position here?”

I tried to speak calmly, but Yudor grit his teeth and pointed at me.

“Apostate Elliot! What gall do you have to speak to me like that! Hey! Sword Saint! What on earth is happening here!”

“Hmm.”

Albrecht glanced at me.

The hero is myself, so it’s only proper I take the lead.

I subtly slipped off my gloves and fanned myself.

“Ophelia, isn’t it hot?”

“Yeah. It feels hotter than Auriga Desert. Is that jerk losing his mind? Hey, cardinal, it’s so hot I might die. Could you open a window or something?”

But neither the cardinal nor the pope looked inclined to open a window.

All their gazes were fixed on the back of my hand.

Thud. The pope slumped into his chair, his expression filled with despair.

“Hero, huh….”

“Are you starting to understand the situation a bit more?”

Attempted murder as a hero. Kidnapping the Saintess. All committed within territory not even his.

If he hadn’t been caught, it wouldn’t have mattered, but not only was he discovered by the Sword Saint, but he was also thoroughly punished.

The gravity of the issue was severe.

“….”

Carrying Ophelia, I walked right up to Yudor, and the cardinals couldn’t muster the courage to stop me.

The title of hero carried a certain weight.

Though I felt bad about being called a hero through some backhanded means, those privileges weren’t too shabby.

Seeing the Ophelia on my back, Yudor showed a rather cowardly expression.

“Ophelia, you are my avatar…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“…Uh, um.”

Normally, the pope would have been shouting like a madman, but he couldn’t help but turn into a mute.

After all, the Sword Saint and other Mark Holders had their eyes wide open, watching this whole spectacle.

More importantly, I, the hero, was glaring at him with the intent to kill.

“If you act foolishly, there won’t be a Cathedral of the Saint or anything left.”

“….”

Under my intimidation, Yudor, looking around at the cardinals, quietly spoke up.

“Where is Benedict…?”

“Dead.”

“….”

Setting Ophelia gently onto a chair, I placed my hand on the backrest.

“Don’t you have an apology?”

“…Hmm.”

Yudor’s eyes flickered.

Then again, an apology to his adopted daughter must have been unthinkable in his position.

So, I drew my Holy Sword and thrust it deeply onto the table.

Yudor flinched.

It seemed there was something wrong with a world where even this kind of thing was regarded with reverence.

“If you don’t apologize…”

“Elliot, that’s enough.”

Ophelia interjected.

“I wasn’t expecting an apology anyway, and I don’t want one. It’s fine.”

“…Ophelia.”

“Just let me deliver my message.”

Ophelia muttered that and looked at Yudor.

“I am….”

Whether collecting her thoughts or choosing her words, Ophelia held her breath for a moment before pouring out her words.

“I am not your tool….”

What began as Ophelia’s statement continued.

“I am not the agent of God, nor does my action represent the will of God. I am neither your avatar nor my mouth your tongue.”

Words she had always had to utter whenever she went to the Holy See.

“I am not the bringer of light, and I am certainly not a Saintess. And most importantly….”

Somehow, Ophelia was starting to choke up.

Perhaps it was from all the resentment she had carried.

She really was a crybaby.

“I am not Meredain.”

Declaring that, Ophelia frowned but still spoke her piece.

“I’m just Ophelia. So don’t block my path.”

“….”

Everyone was left speechless by her bold proclamation.

I placed my hand on Ophelia’s shoulder, and she finally stopped trembling.

Our gazes locked. With tears brimming in her eyes, Ophelia was grinning like a mischievous child.

“And this is my answer.”

Ophelia said that and—

Thwack.

Pope Yudor’s face turned pale.

Why? Because Ophelia had kicked him right between his legs with a swift move.

And a solid one at that.

*

The conference was postponed.

A few days later, a new continental meeting was scheduled to take place.

If I were to attach a web novel-style title to that meeting, it might feel something like this.

‘A Trash Hero Has Appeared!’

Suddenly, a hero showed up, rallied the Mark Holders in the Grand Assembly Hall, and started beating the Pope who was in the annex.

Only one person, but there was even a reported death.

But furthermore, it turns out he committed the crime in the Cathedral!

Those who heard the circumstances thought a thorough discussion on how to handle it was necessary.

Thus, I found myself, along with Ophelia, being put under protective detention, not exactly a confinement.

“So are you going to be sentenced to death?”

“Who’s crazy enough to execute a hero? Well, with the Sword Saint, Archmage, and Information Bureau stepping in, I don’t think it’ll be a huge issue.”

“No, why are they discussing the hero’s qualifications when the Saintess is vouching for me?”

“That’s about Ophelia’s usual behavior.”

“Shut up.”

Grumbling, Ophelia placed her bandaged leg on my body, and I massaged her leg without a word.

I’m not her grandmother.

“It hurts.”

“You’re young!”

“Eew. You sound so old!”

“…”

When Ophelia saw my expression, she shrieked and leaned back.

“Sorry.”

“That’s fine.”

I let out a low sigh.

“Well, it looks like we succeeded in turning the Cathedral upside down.”

“Right.”

A few days earlier, Belwin in the Cathedral had sent me a letter full of worries.

Yesterday, Yurede had come by on crutches with all sorts of news.

And just a few hours ago, Emily and Eldarian dropped by with a ton of snacks for tea time.

In any case, things were quite smooth sailing.

“How does it feel to be free?”

“Hmm. I don’t really feel it.”

“That’s freedom. It’s not really a big deal.”

Smiling at my response, Ophelia also smiled and turned around, resting her body on my lap.

Our eyes met.

Her green eyes danced.

“Is it comfortable?”

“No, it’s too hard, so it feels awful. I can’t use it as a pillow.”

Engaging in such trivial chatter, we had been enjoying each other’s company for three days now.

Of course, it wasn’t hugely uncomfortable. Dinner was served regularly, and whenever Ophelia said she was hungry, snacks would come in. If she said she was bored, books would arrive, and if she said she was sick, the doctor would check on her.

In truth, it was like heaven on earth. I had never had such good treatment since escaping the Cathedral.

But even this would inevitably become dull over time.

I stretched my stiff body.

Thud.

Isn’t it about time for the meeting to start?

Just as I thought that, the door opened.

Standing in the doorway was Sword Saint Albrecht.

“Knight Elliot, and, um… Excuse me, Ophelia.”

“Has my treatment finally been decided?”

“Kind of.”

Albrecht shrugged.

Seeing that relaxed expression, I guessed there wouldn’t be any big problems.

“So, what happens to me?”

“Nothing much.”

Albrecht continued speaking.

“From now on, you will be put on trial.”

“….”

Nothing much, huh?