Taming the Evil Saintess

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There’s a saying by Chekhov about a gun.

It’s the belief of some writer from a cold country that if a gun appears in the first act, it must be fired in the second or third act.

In that context, my blunder was envisioning the crazed bandits who planted bombs on the train, while Anton Chekhov diligently wielded his powers in this world.

Boom!

“Ugh!”

A train exploding in mid-motion was an experience I had never encountered, even after all my trials and tribulations.

There was no way around it. Wrapped in a thin shield made of mana, I simply waited for the shock to pass.

The train spun in the air several times, and even the cargo tied in the hold flew wildly in the air.

The dizzying sensation lasted only a moment, and then the train crashed to the ground, expelling all the air from my lungs.

“Ugh.”

No internal injuries.

My body wasn’t weak enough to sustain wounds like this.

However, my fellow bandit who was targeting the same object seemed to have had a different fate.

“….”

The bandit who had pointed a sword at my neck was now nothing but a mess, crushed under the cargo container that had been flying around during the train’s spin.

At least for him, the fact that he had been turned to mush without leaving a trace meant he escaped without suffering.

“Tch.”

I clicked my tongue in a gesture of sympathy for him.

I had wanted to figure out the backer behind it all, but it seemed he had made his way to hell first.

Regardless, I had to check on Ophelia’s condition now.

I picked up the treasure chest that Gersen had commissioned and moved towards the passenger car.

“Hey! What have you done? We almost died!”

Fortunately, Ophelia was unscathed.

In fact, having lost the debuff of motion sickness, she looked healthier than when the train was still running.

All around, terrified passengers watched me in fear, wearing masks.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Do you think anyone would believe you in that state?”

“Hmm…”

Indeed, that was hard to argue against.

Ophelia stood up, pulled her hat low, and stepped out of the tilted train.

“So, have you found it?”

“I found it… but that’s not the problem.”

I checked the situation outside through a gap in the crumpled train wall.

About six or seven silhouettes were approaching the train.

“It seems a lot of people are after this treasure.”

“Gersen didn’t mention it was dangerous.”

“So I’m planning to give him a good smack when we get back.”

I was serious about that.

Either way, it was crucial to navigate this situation first to get a shot at Gersen.

As I handed the treasure chest to Ophelia, I tucked my sword into my cloak and tore open the entrance to the passenger car.

“Let’s get out first. Staying inside brings us no benefits.”

“What about those guys?”

Ophelia frowned as she looked at the panicking passengers.

Thanks to Ophelia’s protective magic, the nobles in the passenger car hadn’t sustained serious injuries.

However, if the bandits were bold enough to blow up a train, they’d certainly kill the remaining witnesses as easily as swatting flies. Ophelia was pointing that out.

Her personality might be rough, but she doesn’t accept injustice as a given.

That’s one part of what makes Ophelia, Ophelia.

“…Right. Let’s take them with us.”

Hearing that, the passengers looked back at me with eyes full of doubt, but…

I removed my mask and tried to give the kindest smile I could muster.

“Just follow me. If you listen, you won’t die, at least.”

But the flaw was that my face can’t pull off a kind smile.

“B-bandit!”

It backfired.

*

Possessor Morgan salivated while watching the completely wrecked train.

He had spent thirty hours just to rob this single train in the scorching heat of the desert, all for a tiny object no bigger than the palm of his hand!

“What will we do?”

“What do you mean what? First, we have to dig everything out and search.”

“It might be damaged.”

“If it were that easy to damage, it would have been packed better.”

Morgan answered indifferently to his subordinate demon’s concerns and drew his weapon.

A weapon with sharp spikes attached to it.

It was an artifact he’d deemed too ugly to use when he looted it in the game, but now as a mere minion, it felt like too much.

“It’s a special order from Lord Idmien. If we can’t retrieve it, we might as well be dead.”

No way, right? They wouldn’t actually kill him.

He’d just be punished harshly instead.

And Morgan knew well that defying a high-ranking officer of the Demon King’s Army was tantamount to death.

“Didn’t you see that guy Ian? If you mess up… you could end up like a Chimera.”

Recalling the tragic end of Possessor Ian, Morgan licked his dry lips.

He raised his weapon and approached the train.

He’d confirm the deaths of all survivors and take the treasure they were commissioned to retrieve.

It was a simple task.

But….

“C-captain?”

“…”

“There are too many people… though?”

He hadn’t expected that the number of survivors crawling out of the train would be in the dozens.

Morgan’s eyes widened.

The train had spun in the air three times. The bomb planted on the rail wasn’t something you’d find on the market; it was far more dangerous than standard mana bombs. How were they unscathed?

He realized the answer the moment he spotted a woman emerging from the crowd.

“…Saintess.”

One of the demons muttered.

Since the news of Plague Lord Vermina’s gruesome death, Saint Ophelia Meredein was treated like the angel of death within the Demon King’s Army.

And now, here she was, right before his eyes.

He had heard tales of the hero party being between Auriga and the Empire.

Why was she emerging from the train?

“R-run away.”

Morgan took a step back.

There was no way to win this.

This woman already had two possessors dead at her hands.

To be fair, unofficially it was more than five.

“Y-you? But… Lord Idmien…”

“Run away!”

With his weapon clutched tightly, Morgan fled.

However, even quicker than that, the skull of a demon behind him exploded.

The moment Morgan saw the neatly severed fragments, he realized this was no magic.

It was….

“Couldn’t have guessed you’d be a possessor.”

Before him stood a well-dressed man.

The outfit didn’t suit his appearance at all, and he had already closed the distance behind Morgan.

And Morgan knew this man’s name.

“Hero, Elias.”

“It’s Elliot.”

Elliot raised his sword, wearing a devilish grin that wasn’t fitting for a hero.

*

It was more a hunt than a battle.

Rather, it was a massacre.

“P-please, spare me!”

It took barely a minute to take down all the demons.

They were that pathetic. Comparing them to the demons Vermina commanded would be an insult.

“So, what are the demons doing all the way down in Auriga?”

The possessor who fell in a single hit—apparently named Morgan—pleaded for his life.

With that magical weapon in hand, he seemed to be somewhat skilled for a possessor used to close combat, but the problem was that this was Auriga Desert, an open field.

There was nowhere to escape, and above all else, he had lost the will to fight once he laid eyes on Ophelia’s face.

“Why did they flee upon seeing my face? It’s not like I was the one.”

“Can you blame them?”

While Ophelia was beautiful and graceful, judging by her record until now, she was in a league of her own when it came to doom level.

“What’s Doom Guy?”

“Someone who looks like you.”

No more small talk. I grabbed the neck of the golden goblin named Morgan and lifted him up.

His physique was surprisingly frail, to the point where I had to raise him high just to meet eye level.

“So why did the demons come this far?”

“T-that is—”

“Is saying it’ll cost you your life? Okay, just know this: if you don’t talk, you’ll die here.”

“…Ugh.”

I received the treasure chest from Ophelia and shook it in front of his face.

“You came for this, right?”

“….”

He didn’t say anything, but his expression couldn’t hide it.

“What’s this treasure worth drawing the Demon King’s Army’s attention?”

“Shall we open it?”

Ophelia chimed in.

I dropped Morgan and stepped on his back as I pulled the latch on the treasure chest. I expected magical security, but it opened rather effortlessly.

The contents were quite shocking.

“…What is this…?”

Before I could continue my sentence, I instinctively sensed another presence.

I handed the chest to Ophelia and readied my weapon.

On the other side of the ridge, dozens of humans were approaching. Each brandishing weapons that looked more suited for military use.

“Hey, did you have a crew with you?”

“N-no! It was just me!”

Morgan desperately protested.

It didn’t seem like a lie.

“Who are these people?”

I braced my sword and prepared for an attack, but….

“Hey, hey, those guys are imperial soldiers.”

Hearing Ophelia’s words and looking closely, I noticed the golden insignias on their chests.

The emblem of the Empire’s elite troops.

And the commander leading them wasn’t as foolish as the stubborn one we encountered in the Ice Palace; at least he recognized my face.

“Hero Elliot.”

At last, the commander frowned as he looked at the treasure chest in Ophelia’s hands.

“First, please follow us.”

This item should have been turned over to the Imperial Palace. Naturally, it was expected to call the suspects present at the scene.

There was no way to escape or refuse to comply.

“This is an imperial decree.”

He added that for good measure.

“Elliot….”

Ophelia pulled on my sleeve.

“I think things just got a bit more serious.”

“I know right.”

I couldn’t agree more.

A sense of unease blossomed, knowing we were caught in a much bigger incident than anticipated.