Taming the Evil Saintess

---

“Your eyes look like you’ve seen a ghost, huh?”

Oksana, the Tsar’s daughter and the Possessor, casually remarked as she began to circle around me.

I wasn’t exactly sure of the details, but the fact that Oksana was a Possessor was part of why the Ice Palace had grown hostile toward Possessors, allowing the Purification Church to rise to power.

And there she was, right in front of me.

I couldn’t kill her.

If I captured her and handed her over to the Tsar, she’d likely execute me based on her personality.

That certainly wasn’t a conclusion anyone would welcome.

Fortunately, Oksana was quite chatty. More importantly, among the Possessors I had encountered, she seemed relatively normal.

“Probably, the Sword Saint is fighting that guy Aaron now.”

“Albrecht?”

“Yeah, Aaron came here saying he would defeat the Sword Saint. They say without magic, he can’t possibly beat a Mark. Well, he was like that in the game too. A weird guy filled with inferiority complex.”

I held my Holy Sword at the ready to respond at any moment, but she didn’t let me close the distance easily.

Above all, the distance Oksana maintained was confusing even for someone like me, who had some real combat experience.

It wasn’t due to the effects of the territory. Definitely not from the Mark. This was solely her own skill.

“You’re good at hiding your presence.”

“Well, turns out this possessed body has trained in martial arts in its own way. I can use the swordplay and movements from the Ice Palace quite proficiently now.”

She spoke dismissively, but as Albrecht mentioned, most Possessors were Dark Mages. It’s rare for them to fight using their bodies like I did.

Thus, there was plenty of reason to be on guard.

“Where’s Ophelia?”

“Lieutenant Petinus. You know him right?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s the one who spread the territory. Seems the Saint got a scratch on her pride when she purified the plague she spread. He’s out for blood and ready to kill her.”

So, it turned out the plague that circulated the forward base was indeed the Demon King’s army’s doing.

Hearing that gave me a strange sense of relief.

“Oh? You’re not flustered? If the Saint dies, the Demon King might not get caught, you know?”

“True. That would be the case, but that’s only if Ophelia dies.”

I pointed my Holy Sword at Oksana.

“Ophelia is a combatant I’ve personally trained. She won’t die against a mid-boss.”

“Hmmm…”

If it were someone else, I might be worried, but Lieutenant Petinus was someone Ophelia could easily handle.

Oksana frowned in confusion but then hardened her expression and began approaching me.

Close.

Just as I felt that moment, Oksana launched the first attack. A thin sword that sprang from her hands grazed my temple, and then twisted toward my heart.

I hurriedly raised my Holy Sword to block. Oksana’s sword didn’t stop just from being blocked; it continued to batter my body through the recoil. Forced to twist my body and twist my wrist to thwart her attacks, Oksana clicked her tongue and stepped back.

I was internally impressed. It wasn’t powerful, but it was a great technique for assassination.

“Wow, you blocked all that. Still, you’ve just been swinging a sword since you possessed this body.”

“Seems my body is more talented than yours.”

“Hahaha, that’s a funny story.”

Just as Oksana finished speaking, she dropped her unarmed arm.

In an instant, I saw a silver flash in my vision. Reflexively turning my head, I felt a sharp pain on my cheek. Blood flowed from the long cut on my cheek.

It truly was a sudden blow. If I was a little less lucky, my face could have been split in half.

“It’s a steel wire. I painstakingly honed it as a surprise attack… Well, if you can dodge this, there’s no more way to get through to you.”

Oksana honestly admitted as she raised both hands.

A sign of surrender.

But I spoke to her without lowering my guard.

“Isn’t it too easy for a subordinate of the Demon King’s army to surrender like this?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m truly following them… To be honest, I was just planning to stall for time. You’re stronger than I thought.”

Oksana pouted, as if to say she was serious.

“Stalling for time?”

“I originally planned to fight the Ice Warrior Cecilia, but I felt like if we crossed paths, it’d become a hassle.”

“…Indeed.”

Oksana, on the surface, was the Tsar’s daughter.

And Cecilia was the captain of the Imperial Guards of that Ice Palace.

If the two met, it would indeed lead to a troublesome situation.

“Just surrender quietly.”

“Well, I guess so.”

Oksana giggled as she approached me, extending her hand.

Just as I was about to pull a rope from my pocket to bind her, another silver flash sparkled.

“Don’t pull any funny moves!”

I swung my sword horizontally instinctively.

My Holy Sword pierced Oksana’s waist, and her body split in half.

Just a moment of realization.

Creak.

“…”

I stared wide-eyed at the sight of Oksana’s severed torso falling to the ground like a wooden block.

The Possessor I had fought against was nothing more than a puppet embedded with Dark Magic.

Oksana herself must have been controlling the doll from a safe location.

No wonder I found it difficult to gauge her presence or the subtle distance; all of it stemmed from this.

“Tch.”

I clicked my tongue while wiping the magic circle stuck to the wooden block.

A swordsmanship specialized for assassination, wires, and then a substitution technique.

“Just like Naruto.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if she was from Japan on Earth.

I sighed and got to my feet.

According to Oksana, Albrecht was currently fighting the traitor Aaron.

But I wasn’t particularly worried about that.

In the original story, the Imperial Knight Aaron, who appeared as a boss in the Sword Saint’s recruitment quest, was on the verge of execution after losing in a duel with the protagonist, but he goes on to become a mercenary after sparing Albrecht’s life.

However, in this world, Aaron wasn’t just a traitor; he had killed Albrecht’s subordinates and comrades with his own hands.

“There’s no way he’d let that slide.”

At least Albrecht knew how to discern right from wrong.

One could safely say he wouldn’t mess things up due to past ties.

No matter how much Aaron attacked using magic, Albrecht was undeniably recognized as the continent’s greatest swordsman.

There was no way he could lose.

Ultimately, what was important right now was Ophelia.

I tried to pull apart the curtain of territory that Oksana had blocked, but before I could even lay a hand on it, the curtain vanished completely.

At the far end of the clear view, I coincidentally bumped into Cecilia, who was loitering.

“Knight Elliot, are you alright?”

Cecilia, rushing toward me, froze in surprise at the long cut that ran across my cheek.

“It just grazed me. I’m fine.”

“Ah, thank goodness.”

I frowned as I looked at the flickering candlelight above my head. The light wasn’t swallowed. The curtain no longer covered the surroundings.

This meant that the Dark Mage’s territory had vanished.

“Did you happen to kill the Dark Mage, Cecilia?”

“No, I merely wandered through the passage and dealt with the monsters.”

Then…

I gazed down the western corridor, thick with poisonous energy.

If Ophelia’s gears were true, the moment she died, I would have too.

The fact that I was alive meant…

“Ophelia really caused a scene, huh.”

This dazzling light meant the Saint had single-handedly succeeded in taking down the mid-boss.

*

“I can’t understand this, gurgle.”

Petinus lay on the ground.

He was sprawled out, staring at the ceiling, not lifting a finger.

No, there’s an issue with that statement.

Petinus’s limbs had all been severed by the Saint’s Branch.

So, it would be more accurate to say he could not move a single finger.

“Truly, is the Saint an apostle of the heavenly gods?”

Petinus, turning his only remaining head, gazed at the Saint, who was panting and seated not far from him.

As a demon who had lived for hundreds of years, he’d been utterly defeated by this frail human girl.

His hooks couldn’t inflict lethal injuries on her, and his carefully honed plagues and poisons couldn’t penetrate her Holy Magic.

It was a complete failure. The result was so one-sided that he couldn’t refuse to accept it.

“Saint, you are strong.”

“You’re just weak, you idiot.”

“A strong enough person has something to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

“The Hero.”

Petinus recited information he had heard from Aaron, Oksana, and other Demon King’s army officials.

“That man is a Possessor. He is using you.”

“…”

“The Hero is—”

“Wait, are you saying Elliot is a Possessor who’s approaching me, using me?”

Petinus blinked his one remaining eye a few times in agreement.

But the Saint scoffed, lifting her foot to stomp on Petinus’s forehead, where his eye was lodged.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know such a thing?”

“…”

“Of course, I know.”

Wincing as if in distaste, the Saint continued speaking.

“That bastard, calculating his approach to me, trying to manipulate me as he pleases — I know everything!”

“…Then why?”

“Hmm, I guess I just like him. Seems I’m quite attached now. That must be it.”

“…I don’t understand.”

“Right. You wouldn’t. You’re a monster.”

While muttering that, the Saint shook her head.

“Damn, what am I even saying? Just forget it.”

“Ugh….”

Petinus stared at the Saint silently, then turned his body slightly.

“ Apostle of the heavenly gods.”

“Just die quietly, why don’t you?”

“Take the poison sac inside of me.”

The poison sac.

It was the source of all the plagues inside the bodies of Vermina’s subordinates.

It was something akin to a mana core for humans.

“My poison sac is an artifact. It has accumulated extreme poison over hundreds of years. It’s deadlier than any poison in this world. Where to use it is your choice. Gurgle. Just use it wherever you want.”

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because I recognize you as a worthy opponent.”

“What are you talking about, moron? You think I’m going to be defeated by you.”

“…”

“You think I can kill that Plague Lord or something with this?”

“It would be difficult. Not with that poison.”

“What? You useless piece of junk. Well, still, it looks expensive, so I’ll take it.”

As I rummaged through Petinus’s insides, he slowly closed his eyes.

The aftertaste wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

“Hey.”

Just before consciousness faded, I heard the Saint’s voice.

“Aren’t you scared of dying?”

“…Not at all.”

“What a strange guy.”

“Demons are like that. Gurgle.”

“Hmm.”

“Survival of the fittest. I was simply weaker, so I got eaten.”

At that remark, the Saint sighed as if the ground was collapsing beneath her.

“Well, Petinus. You’re not too badly disliked, and besides, since you gave me a gift, I’ll bless you on your way.”

“Blessing?”

“Something like a funeral.”

Before she could finish, a blasphemous golden light revealed a dark perspective for demons.

“Petinus, try to go to heaven if you can.”

Of course, that was also a blasphemous statement.