Taming the Evil Saintess

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“Do you like me?”

The moment I heard those words, it felt like my brain had short-circuited. I never imagined Ophelia would say something like that. Given her prideful nature, it’s not something she would casually bring up.

In other words, it was the truth borne out of drunkenness.

If she weren’t actually drunk, Ophelia would never have said it. Reflecting back, during the last Empire Festival, Ophelia was also inebriated.

But unlike that time, there were no cheers from the crowd or fireworks illuminating the sky. Just silence in my bedroom. Pretending I hadn’t heard her was simply impossible.

“Can’t you hear me?”

“No, I hear you well. Too well.”

As I answered Ophelia’s question, I slowly backed away and placed my hand on the doorknob.

“If you run away, I’ll kill you.”

“…. ”

“So just answer my question. Do you like me?”

“Well, Ophelia… I think you might be a bit too drunk, so maybe you should just go back to your room….”

“Shut up.”

I was outright rejected.

Ophelia shot up, grabbing the amulet around my neck as if it were a leash. The sharp scent of alcohol washed over me, and her finely shaped features were right before my eyes.

A flushed face. A prominent nose. Eyes shining with an emerald hue. Had I ever seen Ophelia’s face this closely before? I lost my train of thought for a moment.

“You… what are you?”

How much time had passed?

Ophelia spoke in a halting, but clear, manner.

“What on earth are you?”

“What do you mean….”

“Why do you keep being nice to me?”

Ophelia’s expression was oddly complex.

The tip of her nose was red.

“Sometimes you treat me like an enemy, and other times like I’m the most important person to you.”

“…. ”

“I don’t have proper parents. It’s been a thousand years. I received my mark against my will, was captured, so I’m unlearned and have a terrible personality. I’m trash unworthy of being called a saint. I know that.”

Indeed, Ophelia had a good grasp of self-objectification, true to her character.

She tightened her grip on the leash and spoke, pressing closer to my face.

“Yet, why are you being nice to someone like me? I’ve never met anyone who cared about me in my life.”

Well, that was true.

Ophelia’s childhood was so unfortunate that even Belwin testified to it.

She clenched her fists, as if she couldn’t bear to imagine what she had been through, and cautiously asked.

“Is it because… you see me as a character from that game you played?”

“…that’s absolutely not it.”

I immediately shook my head.

That much wasn’t true.

Of course, my initial approach to Ophelia had been purely strategic, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

Now….

“Then why are you acting like this?”

Ophelia scrunched her face in annoyance, stomping her foot.

“Why do you keep confusing me? I always….”

Her voice trailed off, lowering to almost a whisper.

But it seemed like she was spilling her heart out in her drunken state.

“…. ”

Establishing our relationship, then.

It seemed that the vow I made at the Forward Base regarding Ophelia had not reached its conclusion.

She needed a definitive answer.

“Ophelia.”

After a moment of thought, I opened my mouth.

“I asked if I liked you.”

Honestly, I hadn’t taken the time to reflect on it deeply enough to have an answer ready.

When I was a Knight of the Cathedral, I had been busy cleaning up after Ophelia’s outrageous antics. It was impossible for any romantic feelings to arise.

However, since I learned about her background and spent time with her, I no longer saw this woman as just a game character or a saint.

It would have been more accurate to say that I no longer couldn’t see her that way.

“I think of you, Ophelia.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“So, to me, you’re not anything but simply Ophelia.”

Yeah.

She’s just Ophelia.

“So you asked why I keep being nice to you?”

“Uh, um, mmm.”

Ophelia nodded obediently.

I bit my lip, then said.

“Because I want you by my side.”

“…. ”

In the Cathedral, I had seen her crying like a child. At the Continental Assembly, I had witnessed her silently weeping alone.

This wasn’t mere protective instinct.

It was….

“Meaning.”

Reluctantly acknowledging it, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

I wet my parched lips, then said as if I were confessing.

“Yeah. Just as you said, I think I like you.”

“…. ”

Ophelia’s mouth opened halfway.

Feeling indifferent, I continued as if driving the point home.

“Since coming to this world, there hasn’t been anyone else I’ve been as close to or spent as much time with as you.”

I’ve realized the desire to protect you through this journey, through my earlier conversation with Yurede.

It was just difficult to articulate it.

Drunken truth, they say.

Just as that saying goes, I felt I was intoxicated by the atmosphere.

“Is that enough?”

“Uh, uh, uh….”

Ophelia cautiously released her hold on the amulet and stepped back.

Then, hitting her heel on the bedpost, she collapsed onto the bed.

“…Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine, so… don’t touch me….”

Regaining her posture, Ophelia hugged her knees, looking up at me.

The imposing demeanor she maintained until just moments ago was nowhere to be found.

What lay before me was the spoiled Ophelia.

“Elliot, so… I…”

“…. ”

“I also….”

She probably wanted to say she likes me.

But Ophelia faltered, her face contorting in frustration. Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat and looked up.

“You told me not to become the Pope.”

“I did.”

“Is that for me? Because you don’t want to see me get hurt or struggling?”

After gulping, Ophelia continued.

“So you like me?”

“That’s… kind of the case.”

“Yeah.”

Nodding, Ophelia seemed to come to terms with it, then decisively said.

“I’m me. And, I hate to admit it, but I’m also a saint. So, I can be the Pope or whatever.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I….”

“No.”

I frowned, about to argue back, but Ophelia’s following words came out more quickly.

“I can do it. I just need you by my side.”

“…. ”

“Just you, beside me.”

In the end, she had gone around in circles to say she likes me.

Ophelia pouted halfway closed eyes and said.

“So, don’t leave me.”

That was the end of that.

Watching Ophelia, who collapsed on the bed like a doll with a loose string, I confirmed the state of the room, as if a storm had just passed through, and let out a huge sigh.

“Is that it?”

Naturally, as the calm settled in, feelings of shame and embarrassment surged from my throat up to my brain.

“Ha.”

I sat in a chair, cradling my head, moaning for a while.

What had I just said?

“Crazy bastard… did I really confess to her…?”

I had confessed.

To Ophelia.

As something I thought could never happen became reality, all that was left was denial.

“Worst-case scenario.”

So when I laid eyes on sleeping Ophelia and a smile crept onto my face, I convinced myself it was only because my mind was shattered.

….

Of course, it was denial.

*

I stayed up all night with my eyes wide open.

The next morning, when Laila energetically patted my back to greet me, I looked like a complete wreck.

“Hey, puppy. What’s with that corpse-like appearance? Did something happen last night?”

“…A hell of a lot happened. But I can’t really say.”

“Y-Yeah.”

I pressed down on my throbbing temples, splashed a glass of water on my face to wake myself up.

Around that time, Ophelia ambled down the stairs. She looked unsteady as if her spindly legs were those of a calf fresh to the world.

“…. ”

At the same moment, our eyes met.

Just half a day prior, we had shared words that straddled the line between acceptable and unbearable.

There was no way it wouldn’t be awkward.

“Ugh….”

Ophelia jumped when our gazes crossed, then hurriedly approached and sat next to me.

Silence fell.

Awkward silence, to the point of discomfort.

Then suddenly, Ophelia pulled her chair closer. Just as I thought the distance was too close, Ophelia leaned closer and whispered in my ear.

“Um, Elliot….”

“What?”

“Well, there’s this….”

I stole a glance at Ophelia.

She had a look as if she would burst into tears at any moment.

“What did I say yesterday?”

“…What do you mean?”

What on earth was she talking about?

When I asked, completely bewildered, she looked about ready to cry, saying.

“I-I don’t remember what I said yesterday….”

“…You don’t remember?”

“E-Emily said it was because I was so drunk….”

“….”

In other words, it meant her memories were fuzzy.

I blinked a few times before asking.

“Uh, since when haven’t you remembered?”

“…Since the first floor….”

“First floor?”

“I had some drinks.”

“Had drinks?”

“I went up the stairs.”

“You went up the stairs?”

Ophelia nodded.

“Th-That’s all.”

“And after that, you have zero memories?”

“U-uh huh.”

“….”

I was silent, and Ophelia seemed a bit frightened as she tugged at my clothing.

“N-No, did I say something strange? Really?”

“….”

“Hey, what’s with that expression? C-Come on, just say something….”

With a sliver of relief.

At the same time, a genuine impulse to kill arose.