Taming the Evil Saintess

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Lying on the luxurious king-size bed of the inn,

Ophelia stared intently at the golden ring on her left ring finger.

“Ugh.”

Air escaped my lips before I even realized it.

Yeah. It’s not laughter; it’s just a gasp.

I’m not laughing. I’m not happy either.

Well, maybe I could be happy.

“It’s expensive, after all.”

This ring is an artifact.

Not just any artifact, but the Star of Dawn Ring, the only one of its kind on the continent. Even Ophelia, who lived in the Cathedral, had heard rumors about it countless times. Its value is astronomical; if taken to a store for magical items, it might be enough to control the whole village around it.

That precious object is sitting right on her finger.

Ophelia has a rather materialistic personality for a saintess.

Naturally, she couldn’t help but feel delighted.

But…

“Why the hell did that jerk…”

The thing is, it was Elliot—second to none in the Cathedral—who gifted this ring to Ophelia.

Of course, the Star of Dawn Ring is much better suited for her. In fact, wearing it filled her with divine power and made her smile involuntarily.

Yet, Ridensstein’s treasury was full of artifacts that Elliot would covet. Still, he skipped all those treasures and specifically chose the Star of Dawn Ring for Ophelia.

He didn’t even hesitate. It was like he had already decided.

Above all, Elliot had personally put the ring on her.

Yes, on her left ring finger.

“…”

Having lived as a saintess, Ophelia had officiated at more than a few weddings among the high nobles. Thus, she was very aware of the significance of this ring on her left ring finger.

Eternal love.

Love. Yes, it’s love.

“Ugh, ahh.”

Unable to hold on any longer, she stomped her feet and flopped down on the bed.

It was utterly incomprehensible. The very same Elliot, whom she considered a rival, had given her a ring. A ring that looked like an engagement ring, no less.

Was there no foreshadowing?

“No….”

Was there none?

There were a few hints.

It was Elliot who pulled her out of the Punishment Room. He was the one who endured the pain of being shattered against the Shadow of God to protect her. It was also he who rushed to save her after she was captured.

From that series of events, Ophelia was able to conclude one thing.

“That jerk, pretending to be a man.”

In the end, even the mountain-like Elliot had succumbed.

“Ophelia… this sinful woman…”

Muttering to herself, Ophelia slapped her cheeks.

It felt unreal.

Ophelia had never acted in a way that would please Elliot at all.

“That jerk, is he stupid?”

Just in case, she looked into a mirror and saw a dignified-looking woman.

Certainly, Ophelia belonged to the category of very beautiful women in this world. But she didn’t think that Elliot would be so easily swayed by just her looks.

What else could it be?

Lost in thought, Ophelia heard footsteps ascending the stairs. Unlike Elliot’s usual pace, this one was quick and purposeful.

“Eep.”

She quickly composed her face, tidied her bed, and sat demurely.

She didn’t understand why she was acting like this. She had shown a disheveled appearance to Elliot countless times—no, dozens of times.

Finally, Elliot entered the room, taking in the untidy scene before clearing his throat.

“Ophelia, I brought dinner. Shall we eat together?”

Thus began the meal in silence.

It was a dish of cod. Ophelia quite liked fish. Even while bringing the food to her mouth, her gaze remained fixated on Elliot.

“…Please, eat.”

“Uh, okay.”

Elliot delicately removed the bones from the fish with his fork, serving only the tender meat. Each thoughtful act of his reinforced Ophelia’s growing suspicion.

How much time had passed?

Elliot finally broke the silence.

“I met Azar.”

“Yeah, that jerk. I heard he came to the capital. What did you talk about?”

“I discussed the possessors.”

“….”

Possessors.

Ophelia wasn’t entirely sure, but they seemed to be souls from another world, serving loyally under the Demon King.

“And why’s that?”

“Just curious. What do you think about possessors, Ophelia?”

“What do I think? I have no thoughts on the matter.”

And that was indeed true.

Responding as such, Elliot seemed to hesitate for a moment before setting down his fork.

Strangely, he appeared anxious, unlike his usual self. Though he tried not to show it, Ophelia couldn’t help but notice. After all, she had seen his face for years; how could she miss even a slight change in expression?

“Um, Ophelia.”

“Yeah?”

“I have something to confess.”

“….”

Naturally, Ophelia immediately linked this with what had happened earlier, adding Elliot’s words to her thoughts.

The human who put that expensive ring on her left ring finger now had something he wanted to confess.

What else could it be besides “that”?

Ophelia swallowed hard. Then she leaned back, pulled her chin in, and neatly placed her hands on her knees.

For some reason, she felt like she should be sitting up straight for this. At the same time, she thought of the words she could use to react to his confession.

“Hmph. You think you can climb a tree I’ll never let you reach?”

No, would saying something like that even make sense?

“As a saintess, I can’t accept your confession ‘yet’. Sorry.”

…That would probably be the right answer.

After all, it was important to leave some room for possibilities.

“Room?” Ophelia felt confused. Why was she leaving space for that jerk’s confession?

Cold sweat trickled down her back.

As her lips quivered, Elliot let out a small breath before speaking.

“Ophelia, I’m actually…”

“Uh, okay.”

“I am….”

His words continued, and Ophelia, overwhelmed with excitement, spoke first.

“Sorry, as a saintess, I can’t accept your feelings…”

“I’m a possessor.”

At that, cold silence fell.

…

An eternity seemed to pass in that moment.

Ophelia stared at me as if she had been hit on the head.

Of course, she did. It’s only natural to be shocked when someone close to you comes out as a possessor.

Let’s just wait for her response.

And whatever reaction Ophelia has, I’ll take it humbly.

“…You.”

Ophelia finally opened her mouth.

“Is your confession really this?”

“…Yes.”

“Is it the fact that you are a possessor?”

“Correct.”

“….”

Ophelia shivered for a moment.

Then, whoosh!

She practically threw her cod dish at me.

“…I’m sorry.”

The apology came out naturally.

She was right to be angry. After all, I had deceived Ophelia all this time.

But it seemed the reason Ophelia was angry was not that.

“I knew.”

“Pardon?”

“I knew you were a possessor.”

“….”

I was flabbergasted.

Staring at Ophelia with wide eyes, she twisted her lips into a smug smile and crossed her arms.

“Richard told me.”

Now that I think about it…

When Ophelia was carried off at Golden Lion Castle, he had said something strange.

He mentioned that he had heard something from Dark Mage Richard.

Could it be that?

“But why…”

“Why didn’t I tell you?”

Ophelia sighed and stuck her tongue out.

“Are you stupid?”

“…Pardon?”

“You didn’t tell me first. If you didn’t reveal it yourself, I thought you must have had a good reason for keeping it hidden.”

“Ophelia, you’re really not angry?”

“Angry about you being a possessor? Not at all.”

Ophelia sneered.

“Although, I might have cared back when I was in the Cathedral.”

She looked genuinely annoyed explaining that, as she stabbed her fork into the table.

“But you and I are in the imperial capital now. I hate to admit it, but you faced the Cathedral head-on and smashed the Pope to rescue me. I mean, can I say there was some hidden agenda?”

“No.”

“Do I look like a pawn to you?”

“Definitely not.”

“Good. Then that’s settled. But you seem to be thinking of me as some kind of doll without a soul. You thought that if I found out you were a possessor, I’d hate you, right? That you were deceiving me?”

“Yes.”

When I answered truthfully, Ophelia let out a deep sigh.

“You’re so straightforward.”

“I told you I don’t lie.”

I looked at Ophelia.

I had always thought of her as just a kid.

But Ophelia was more than capable of thinking and judging for herself. I felt pathetic for thinking that she would hate or be angry with me.

It seemed Ophelia shared the same sentiment.

“You were sulking like a wet kitten, so I thought you were deep in some profound dilemma? To think this is what you were tormented by… what a pathetic hero.”

“Haha.”

“Quit smiling like that; it’s gross.”

Ophelia pouted and shot me an annoyed look.

“Here I was thinking… I must have been delusional.”

“Delusional?”

“Yeah, that kind of thing exists.”

“Hmm?”

Did she think I was going to say something else?

As I stared intently at Ophelia, she retrieved her fork from the table.

“Such things do exist.”

“What do you mean?”

Swish!

Suddenly, a piece of fish flew and slid down my nose.

For some reason, Ophelia’s face turned red.

“Shut up. Don’t ask.”

With a fierce glare that looked like she might stab me in the head with that fork, I kept my mouth shut.

“Fine, since the food is ruined, go buy some more. No, let’s just go to a nice restaurant instead.”

“You ruined the dish, Ophelia.”

“I told you to shut up!”

Ophelia rose from her seat, rubbing her left hand.

“So what’s the sudden talk about possessors?”

“Well… the situation has gotten a bit awkward.”

“Is it tough?”

“Sort of.”

At that, Ophelia looked into my eyes for a moment, then let out a chuckle.

Then she puffed her chest out.

“Okay. I’ll be your therapist. Big sister will give you a consultation.”

“…”

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll kill you.”

I forced a bitter smile.

Still, my heart felt light.

“Okay, so the problem is the Sword Saint, right?”

In a fancy restaurant in the capital.

There were no ears to eavesdrop.

This was an upscale restaurant, and though we didn’t even reserve a private room, the head chef came out as soon as he saw our faces and led us to the VIP room.

I conveyed all the details to Ophelia, and she absentmindedly tapped her spoon on her plate, pondering deeply.

“Wouldn’t it be better to just reveal it?”

“I heard that the Sword Saint used to have a severe hatred for possessors, going so far as to hunt them down to kill.”

“That’s what you heard.”

Ophelia tilted her head, looking puzzled.

“What was the Sword Saint like when you met Albrecht?”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“Wasn’t he the same way in that little game you played?”

“That’s right.”

“Then what are you worried about? Do you think he’ll try to kill you just because you revealed you’re a possessor? I don’t think Albrecht is that much of a lunatic.”

That wasn’t wrong.

As Ophelia continued the conversation, she suddenly looked my way, as if she had just remembered something.

“If you’re really worried, should I mediate?”

“Are you serious, Ophelia?”

“For now, I’m unaffiliated, you know. With someone like me around, do you think they’d start swinging swords at each other?”

“Hmm…”

Has anything good ever come of Ophelia mediating?

Even when she was merely the Saintess in the Cathedral, didn’t she once throw the Emperor’s private letter on the floor?

But the fact remained that I had no better alternative.

With a sigh, I bowed my head.

“I’ll leave it to you.”

“Okay, okay.”

Ophelia looked satisfied and brought food to her mouth.

“But hey, what were you like in your original world? You seem to wield a sword well; were you also a mercenary there?”

“…Hmm, the world Ophelia imagines and the one I lived in is quite different. In a sense, there were hardly any mercenaries in the world I came from.”

“How intriguing.”

Ophelia showed little interest in the world I mentioned earlier.

Instead, she was curious about me.

“You had no friends there, right?”

“….”

“I knew it.”

She was teasing me.

It felt oddly annoying that she was acting all proud as if she had found an advantage.

“Well, you, Ophelia, don’t have any friends either.”

“I do.”

Her assertive reply caught me off guard.

When our eyes met, Ophelia quickly looked away and murmured.

“I have friends.”

Ophelia’s earlobes turned pink.

“A precious friend.”