Taming the Evil Saintess

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“Welcome back, Sword Saint Albrecht. Has it really been almost five years?”

Imperial Knight Aaron’s appearance was so gruesome that it made the title of ‘Knight’ seem utterly ridiculous.

The sword at his waist was the ceremonial sword of the Imperial Knights, but beside it hung yet another blade.

“Aaron….”

Sword Saint Albrecht was understandably taken aback by the sight before him. He bit down hard on his lower lip as he stared at Aaron.

Albrecht was one of the few sane individuals in this party, quick to notice that the soul of the knight before him was indeed the same person he once knew.

Aaron flashed a grin, raising both arms in mock display.

“Do I still look like a possessor to you, Sir Albrecht? Kidnapped by the Demon King, losing my original soul, and stamped with a mark to be exploited as a pathetic, miserable human?”

“…No.”

Albrecht slowly shook his head.

“You are not a possessor.”

“And what’s your basis for that?”

“The way you grip the hilt, your basic stance—those are textbook principles straight from the Empire’s manuals, just as I know you, Aaron.”

“Haha. I see I can’t underestimate you. You must possess keen insight to carry the title of Sword Saint.”

Aaron chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why is that? Why are you here, Aaron? If you were alive, you should be in the capital…”

“Go back to the capital? Why on earth should I?”

“What?”

“Sir Albrecht, I know you. I know your rigid life, your proud knights, your overbearing meddling, your hypocrisy—everything.”

“…”

Aaron’s expression shifted. He looked as if he had bitten into something unpleasant, disgust written all over his face.

“Do you know how repulsive that was?”

“Aaron, what do you mean by that?”

“I disliked you. You filled your position not on merit but merely because you bore the Mark of the Sword Saint, the legitimate heir of Ridensstein.”

“…”

“But you prattled on about how status doesn’t matter, that what’s essential is chivalry—all while you basked in the benefits of your privilege.”

At this point, Aaron sounded exactly like a jealous player from a game explaining why he betrayed Albrecht.

“Is this jealousy, Aaron?”

Upon hearing Albrecht’s words, Aaron chuckled softly and took a few steps back.

“Think whatever you like. How could a noble like you possibly understand a humble monk?”

“…”

“You’ve always been a hypocrite.”

Albrecht’s expression hardened. Perhaps he was shocked to be betrayed by someone he thought was close.

But that thought was fleeting. The Sword Saint slowly drew his sword.

“I see. So that’s what you’ve been thinking, Aaron.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you’ve aligned yourself with the Demon King’s army?”

“Correct. I may be a traitor now, but I serve as the Plague Lord’s lieutenant. Isn’t that quite the spectacle? At least here, they don’t discriminate based on status.”

Aaron smirked as he glared at Albrecht, who had drawn his sword. However, Albrecht merely closed his eyes briefly before opening them again.

“Aaron, I am the Sword Saint, and I am the sword of the Empire. You are now a public enemy of the continent. So let me say just one thing.”

Albrecht’s sword seemed to melt into liquid, then transformed into its formal two-handed sword shape as it materialized in his hand—all done flawlessly.

The standard sword of the Imperial Knights.

“Was it the Plague Lord or you who killed the other knights?”

His expression was laden with hostility. Aaron pondered for a moment, then instead of answering, merely tapped the sword’s hilt.

Albrecht’s sword tip trembled slightly, but it was only for a brief moment.

“Aaron, you know as well as I do that I don’t wield my sword with personal feelings attached.”

“Right. You are the Sword Saint, the sword of the Empire—a sword steeped in principles.”

Aaron waved his hand.

Mana began to coalesce.

“Moreover, the Hero, the Golden Lion, the Ice Warrior. And the next Archmage and the continent’s Saintess as well. Unlike others, I know my place. Therefore, I have absolutely no intention of fighting you directly.”

“…”

“I have friends who can take my place.”

As soon as his words ended, the ground trembled.

Simultaneously, monsters began pouring out from the underground waterways.

There had to be at least a hundred.

“Huh.”

I clicked my tongue. I heard they had run out of supplies, but how could they still have so many left?

“Have you heard of Loneliness? Monsters created by the Plague Lord that possess special poisons. They are the elite of the elite, having survived after repeating fratricide among their kin. They are ruthless and dangerous, incomparable to ordinary monsters.”

Aaron nodded slightly.

“I hope you survive, Heroes. But especially you, Sword Saint—I hope to see you within.”

“Aaron….”

Despite Albrecht’s blazing gaze, the circumstances surrounding us were grim—if not hopeless.

Hundreds of monsters faced off against our mere seven.

“…This is a disaster.”

Ophelia muttered, and I inwardly agreed.

With a wicked grin, Aaron waved his hand, and the greenish-brown monsters charged at us.

*

Swish!

I swung my sword horizontally.

Despite pouring all my mana into it, the monsters had bodies as tough as solid rock. With both hands gripping the Holy Sword, I split one open, and fluorescent blood gushed forth.

[Keek!]

Another monster rushed forward.

It looked like a mutated insect, true to its name, ‘Loneliness.’

I narrowly dodged its claw, flipped my sword, and plunged it into its belly, cleaving it open.

Entrails spilled out like a gushing tide of blood.

I became soaked in it. The blood seemed infused with poison because I started gasping for air and the sensations in my limbs went hazy.

I thought I had built some resistance to poison during the fight with the Shadow of God and Benedict, but that was a grave miscalculation.

“Damn it.”

The moment I opened my mouth, blood splattered on my tongue.

A piercing sensation suddenly swept through my entire body.

Paralysis venom and nerve poison.

No, this was simply extreme poison.

“Focus.”

I patted Cecilia on the back a few times, then slashed at the largest monster in sight.

Its poison sac burst, drenching me in venom.

If I had the Mark of the Hero, I could shake it off more easily, but the penalties of that mark were too severe. I still had plenty of enemies left, including the Plague Lord and other possessors. I couldn’t afford to expend all my strength on just one mid-boss like Aaron.

“Ugh!”

Was it due to my distracted thoughts?

At some point, a horn from the monster had embedded itself deep in my shoulder.

There was no pain, but not feeling pain was even more problematic here.

It meant the poison had already spread within my body.

“Damn it, manage your condition while you fight!”

At that moment, I heard a sweet voice laced with harsh words.

A golden halo radiated from around me due to divine power.

Cleansing and healing through Holy Magic. My senses returned to me.

However, it was not good that Ophelia was expending divine energy right now. I turned to her, visibly fatigued.

“Ophelia, it’s nice you want to help, but save your strength as much as possible. You’re already worn out, aren’t you?”

“Am I just supposed to stand by and watch you die? What do you think I am, a fool?”

“There are still many enemies left, including the Plague Lord.”

“Even so!”

Ophelia shouted angrily.

Then she pointed her finger and poked me sharply in the chest.

“You’re planning to use the Mark again, aren’t you?”

“…”

“You’re just ignoring the promise we made?”

We had made a promise, but there are moments of force majeure. Before I could even voice that argument, Ophelia struck first.

“Don’t use the Mark. If you die, I die too.”

“Ophelia, don’t say such ominous things…”

“No, it’s the truth.”

I frowned, puzzled, but Ophelia revealed the front hem of her Holy Garment, displaying the shining mark of the Celestial Deity.

“…It’s Gears.”

“What?”

Gears. Why was it popping up out of nowhere?

When I asked in confusion, Ophelia gave a bitter smile and playfully smacked my cheek.

“Actually, our lives are linked.”

“Our lives are linked? What the hell does that mean?”

“I didn’t say it, but it’s been true since Ridensstein.”

Ophelia winked slightly.

Of course, she had shrunk back a bit, fearing a scolding.

Gears. Ridensstein.

Carefully, I pulled out one of the possibilities that had cautiously traversed my mind.

“Wait, you mean back in Ridensstein when you used Gears to save me…”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me the content was….”

“Exactly what you’re thinking.”

Ophelia was watching me closely as she continued.

“If you die, I die. If I die, you die. We’re bound by a fateful contract, so we will die together. That’s how we obtained our powers.”

“…”

“So to speak…”

Ophelia stuck out her tongue.

“We’re in the same boat.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Well, I thought you might get mad.”

That was indeed the answer.

With a thud, I punched Ophelia lightly atop her head.

Of course, I controlled my strength.

“Crazy girl.”

“Didn’t you know? I’m really crazy.”

Unintentionally, I had put someone else’s life on the line without even wanting to.

“But do you know something?”

“What?”

“You’re just as crazy as I am.”

That was hard to deny.