Taming the Evil Saintess

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“Let’s leave.”

“Already? We came here with such difficulty, and now we have to move again?”

We decided to depart from the Cathedral of the Saint before winter ended. Ophelia pouted, looking a bit disappointed. While it might have been nice to rest a little longer, we had two pressing reasons to move quickly.

First, the situation along the Eastern Coast didn’t look too good.

“I received information from the Knight Order. They said it’s at the level of annihilation.”

Albrecht delivered the news with a grim face. Apparently, it was from a famous knight order of the Eastern nobility, which suffered devastating losses right after facing Elgore. Their involvement in the coalition army was significant, causing the frontline to shift inland.

In other words, the balance on the Eastern Coast was gradually tipping towards Elgore. We needed to join the battle quickly.

The second reason was….

“Sir Elliot… it seems Ophelia should leave the Cathedral.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way.”

Even Belwin, who was practically Ophelia’s father, admitted that her tyranny had crossed the line.

She wasn’t just using holy relics as drinking glasses; she was frothing at the mouth and trampling on anything related to the previous pope. The idea of toppling the massive statue in front of the Holy See to replace it with a golden statue of herself was laughable.

Ophelia was rapidly becoming the name most feared by the clergy of the Cathedral.

“I will leave.”

The only solution was to keep Ophelia far away from the Cathedral.

Thus, we decided to depart.

“Laila, you guys….”

“We’ll follow. It’s called the Hero’s Journey, right?”

The Black Eagle Mercenaries decided to accompany us.

I warned that it might be dangerous and that this time we could really die, but their resolve was firm. After all, those mercenaries weren’t ones to shy away from danger.

“Besides, most of the mercenaries in the Empire are gathering at the Eastern Coast. That jerk Gersen is sending all the veteran mercenaries east because of the Empire’s influence.”

Georg chimed in.

The Empire, now short on troops, was summonsing mercenaries to reinforce the Eastern Coast. Even Mercenary King Gersen had to bend his pride to the pressure from the Empire, meaning that parting ways would only lead us to reunite in the East again. It would be more convenient for everyone if we went together.

I nodded and glanced at Ophelia.

“And Blackie?”

“I left him in the Cathedral’s stable.”

Fortunately, unlike the Ice Palace, the Cathedral was a prosperous city-state, overflowing with milk and honey. We could afford Blackie’s crazy appetite.

As she answered my question, Ophelia raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you taking Blackie with us? We can’t just leave him in the Cathedral.”

“Anyway, Blackie can fly. This place isn’t that far from the Eastern Continent.”

Taking Blackie along meant we’d be hauling food in wagonloads to satisfy his enormous appetite. It would be better to leave him at the Cathedral for now and call for him later.

“Anyway, if you or I call him, he’ll come flying, right? Let’s call him if something urgent comes up.”

“…Well, I guess that works.”

Maybe she felt a little disappointed to be apart from Blackie, as Ophelia murmured in a sulky tone.

The decision was made; all that was left was to depart.

Ophelia used her authority as pope to open the Treasure Vault of the Saint and arm the mercenaries and us.

“Hey, Elliot. You should try this out.”

“What is it?”

“It’s called a Holy Sword.”

I couldn’t help but be intrigued by that.

Following Ophelia’s lead, we stepped into the Treasure Vault of the Saint, where a single-handed sword shone radiantly inside a display case.

Ophelia forcefully pried open the lock of the display case and pulled out the sword.

“This is heavier than I thought.”

“Is this the Holy Sword?”

“Yep, that’s what they say.”

I took the sword she handed me.

It certainly felt substantial and was beautifully crafted. As I infused it with mana, the blade burst into golden flames, causing me to gasp in awe. It was easy to guess that a master blacksmith comparable to Olmen had poured their heart into forging this sword.

“They say it was used by the previous hero. After he died, the saint came to collect his remains, and it was bestowed to the Cathedral.”

“It’s a sword mixed with sorrow.”

I set the sword down.

Ophelia tilted her head in confusion.

“Aren’t you going to use it?”

“I can’t use it; it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“A bad taste?”

“You just mentioned it, didn’t you? The previous hero died.”

“…Ah.”

The previous hero died and his sword was entrusted to the saint, who later placed it in the Cathedral.

The very fact that the remains of the previous hero’s hand were now being used as a foundation for research by Princess Adelheit made it all the more unpleasant.

Hearing the story of this sword’s grim past, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. It sounded like Ophelia and I were destined for a tragic end ourselves.

No matter how good the sword was, if it felt wrong, I wouldn’t use it. Moreover, I was also perfectly satisfied with Olmen’s Holy Sword, and I didn’t feel the need to switch.

“Were the previous hero and the previous saint close?”

“Probably not. If they cherished the sword enough to store it like that in the Cathedral’s vault.”

“Hmm.”

Ophelia made a sound of contemplation, crouching down.

Then she noticed a phrase written at the corner of the display case and smirked before looking back at me.

“It seems they didn’t get along too well?”

“Hmm?”

At her words, I looked at the phrase inscribed on the display case.

It was vividly written in red.

[In memory of the fool who will never be seen again.]

“…Looks like we share a similar relationship.”

Ophelia muttered with a chuckle.

I couldn’t help but agree.

*

Ophelia pulled out a new shield and an accessory embedded with protective magic from the vault.

“About the pope’s scepter.”

The scepter itself served as a wonderful catalyst for holy magic.

However, Ophelia currently possessed the Branch of the World Tree, a supreme weapon, so this scepter was merely a nuisance. It was essentially just a cumbersome item to prove her status as pope.

Thus, Ophelia came to a rather radical conclusion after deep consideration.

“Why don’t I just detach the tip and stick it onto the branch? I tried using magic with this earlier, and holy power concentrated only on this round part. The rest is just useless.”

“…Huh?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m going to dismantle this and just attach the round part to the branch.”

“Uh… are you out of your mind?”

The blacksmith from the Cathedral gaped in shock, but Ophelia’s resolve was unwavering.

“Yeah, I’m perfectly sane. Do you have a problem with that, rug?”

“…Well, um, that proves I’m pope, but…”

“An object doesn’t prove a person; a person proves an object. I’m holding this, so it’s the pope’s scepter. If I just hold the pope’s scepter, it doesn’t make me the pope.”

It was a valid point, but the wicked smile Ophelia wore was anything but leader-like.

The blacksmith couldn’t muster the bravery to oppose the pope’s wishes, so he glanced at me, likely hoping I would intervene.

However, after listening to her logic…

“That’s a damn good idea, isn’t it?”

“…Huh?”

I was intrigued.

If we attached the scepter to the Branch of the World Tree, it would create amazing synergy.

Had it been the original work, I wouldn’t have even thought of it. But this world only imitates a game; it isn’t a game. We could indulge in these bug-like plays as much as we wanted.

“Ophelia, how do you come up with this brilliant idea? Is this what they mean by ‘positions create people’?”

“Hmm, you can praise me a bit more.”

I patted Ophelia’s head as she requested.

The blacksmith dropped his hammer in disbelief.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“You can do it, right?”

“…Uh, um.”

The blacksmith didn’t dare to say he couldn’t.

To be precise, he couldn’t.

*

Our appearance was completely different as we left the Cathedral compared to when we entered.

Unlike when we sneaked in through the catacombs like mice, we were now leaving in a luxurious wagon passing through the grand gates.

“Living life to the fullest, I’ve actually ridden in a wagon like this.”

Georg murmured with a feeling of overwhelming gratitude.

The Black Eagle Mercenaries also donned expensive armor instead of ragged clothes, all of which they had acquired from the Treasure Vault of the Saint.

“Hey, Elliot.”

Ophelia spoke to me, seated in the most honored position.

“Is that Elgore guy really that strong?”

“You saw it yourself. He crushed Blackie’s egg.”

Of course, that was more due to Blackie hatching on his own, but there was no denying Elgore’s immense strength.

“More than that, he’s using an artifact.”

“What kind of artifact?”

“It has the effect of preventing magic from being used nearby.”

“…Isn’t that incredibly overpowered?”

When we drifted to the island where Blackie’s egg lay, a distortion in time and space occurred, preventing us from using mana properly.

However, Elgore’s body didn’t require mana. He didn’t use magic either—he only overwhelmed with brute force. While he seemed similar in nature to Black Knight Negilus, the scales simply didn’t compare.

That’s why Elgore was fearsome, and despite the numerous troops of the Empire gathering, they couldn’t even handle a single pirate.

“Can we beat him? Or should we try swarming him?”

“If we feel it’s unfavorable, we’ll retreat to the sea. Then we’ll invade again where their forces are spread thin.”

“Sounds like a pirate….”

“Because he is a pirate.”

Black Water Elgore.

How to deal with him was something I mulled over during our time in the Cathedral.

“Well, he is a born warrior, so he’ll probably want to defeat a strong opponent when he faces one.”

“What a reckless guy.”

“We’ll make use of his recklessness. For now, let’s head to the Eastern Coast….”

Just as I was about to explain the plan, there was a commotion at the front.

“What’s going on? Did a wild beast come out or something?”

Ophelia muttered.

I frowned and got off the wagon, moving towards the front.

There stood Albrecht.

“What’s going on?”

“It seems… they are deserters.”

Before Albrecht were knights clad in rat-colored armor, panting as if exhausted. They looked at Albrecht in shock.

“Do you know them?”

“I don’t know each of them, but I know where that armor belongs; it’s one of the orders under my command.”

At his words, I frowned as one of the knights knelt and repeatedly apologized.

It was surprising for a knight, not just a mere soldier, to be running away from the battlefield, but hearing news of a knight order being annihilated recently made it understandable.

For these guys, it must feel like a bolt from the blue. They fled from the battlefield only to encounter their commander.

“So, Albrecht, what do you plan to do?”

“What do you mean? According to military law, a knight who abandons their duty has to renounce their title, and in wartime, it can lead to execution.”

Upon hearing this, the deserters’ expressions hardened.

However, Albrecht was a flexible commander.

“However, considering the special circumstances, I’ll leave the punishment to the commander on the field. Return to the front. If you come back, I won’t hold this incident against you.”

At Albrecht’s words, the knights’ faces filled with relief. They bowed repeatedly and hurriedly retraced their steps.

“…It seems the situation at the front isn’t good.”

Albrecht sighed and said, and I nodded.

“We’re in a hurry.”

I could feel the urgency now that we were close to the Eastern Coast.

I could smell the smoke in the air.