Taming the Evil Saintess

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Ophelia tightened her grip on the sword’s hilt.

Every training session, Elliot had repeatedly said that grip strength was the most important for a knight. Of course, Ophelia wasn’t a knight, but his teachings had their own effect now.

Crack!

A black bullet shot by the Dark Mage collided with Ophelia’s sword, altering its trajectory.

The heavy recoil tore the flesh of her palm, but she healed it with Holy Magic.

The Dark Mage gritted his teeth at the sight.

“Why is the Saintess wielding a sword?!”

“Because some bastard taught me against my will.”

“Against your will…?”

“Exactly.”

Ophelia grimaced and stepped forward a few more paces, while the Dark Mage summoned a Black Thorn in terror.

However, the menacing thorns, which seemed ready to devour everything, instantly evaporated upon contact with the divine power Ophelia had widely sprinkled.

Magic creations are weak against Divine Power. That was common knowledge.

And Ophelia was probably among the most favored by God next to the Hero in this world.

“Uwaaaa!”

The Dark Mage’s desperate attacks couldn’t break through Ophelia’s barrier. Even if he managed to find a gap and inflict a wound, Ophelia concentrated her divine power, and it simply closed up.

Thus, the Dark Mage’s chances were completely sealed. As Elliot had said, his combat power was utterly pathetic.

Feeling a strange sense of disappointment, Ophelia closed the distance and swung her sword.

“Graaaah!”

Blood spurted, and his wrist was severed.

The sensation of cutting a human was slightly different from that of slaying a monster.

“Gack… Hah! Stop… Pleaaaase…!”

The Dark Mage, now wrist-less, seemed to have lost the will to resist, kneeling and pleading.

“Why the hell should I spare you? You tried to kill us, didn’t you? Doesn’t that mean you were prepared to die, too?”

“…That wasn’t my intention. I swear!”

“Yeah, well, if you’re feeling wronged, go tell that to the Judge of Hell, not me.”

The Dark Mage was left speechless, and Ophelia raised her sword.

Only then did he hurriedly bow his head.

“I know! I know about you! I’ve seen you!”

“What have you seen?”

“I… I’ve come from another world. I’m a Possessor, that is, a soul from another world. And in my original world, I observed this world as if it were a game. So I know the Saintess very well. Kind, with a dislike for killing. I know everything.”

“….”

Ophelia could only tilt her head in confusion.

What a load of nonsense.

The Dark Mage’s expression was so serious that it couldn’t simply be brushed off as a delay tactic.

After pondering over his words, Ophelia furrowed her brow.

“So… you’re saying I’m kind and have a distaste for killing. A good and noble woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes. I see the Saintess as…”

“Are you an idiot?”

The Dark Mage’s expression froze.

“Y-yes?”

“Don’t spout nonsense without limits. Do I seem like a doormat to you, you moron?”

“….”

The Dark Mage looked bewildered.

As if his common sense was being undermined.

“Do you think I look like a good person?”

Ophelia was someone who could objectively assess herself.

She was well aware of her own flawed nature.

The Dark Mage asked in a daze.

“W-why?”

“Why? Because I’m not Ophelia Meredein, just Ophelia.”

With that, Ophelia adjusted her grip on the sword.

“Now, before you die, spill everything you know.”

—

Crack.

Azar’s heavy strike met my sword.

Contrary to my expectations, the outcome was indecisive.

“….”

My sword, unable to withstand the limits, and Azar’s hand axe shattered simultaneously.

I clicked my tongue, looking at the remaining hilt. It was the sword I had received during my Knight ceremony. It was crafted with a different sharpness and quality than the one I had used in the North, so I had a certain attachment to it.

Sighing in disappointment, Azar expressed honest admiration at the sight of me defending against his attack.

“Impressive. No one has ever taken that hit before.”

“The ones you’ve fought must have been pathetic, then.”

“Even if your words are rough, a Hero is a Hero, I can’t deny that.”

I didn’t like the tone of Azar’s sarcastic smile.

It felt as though he had already given up.

Was it reasonable for him to act like that just because a weapon was broken?

“What are you doing, you?”

I frowned and stepped forward, readying my stance. My legs spread shoulder-width apart. One hand delicately gripped my waist while the other curled into a fist in front of my chest.

Just because I lost my weapon doesn’t mean the fight is over. That’s the nature of battle. It’s normal to fight until one side is dead or incapacitated, and in that process, weapons are merely tools, not the essence.

So…

“Throw a punch. Don’t you know this as a Warrior?”

I’d decided to lay into that guy.

I assumed a posture to throw a punch, but Azar slowly shook his head.

“As much as I’d like to, I don’t think it’s necessary.”

Azar clasped his hands behind his back and took a step back.

“Didn’t you notice?”

“What?”

“The sound of rain.”

At that, I looked towards the window.

The black barrier that had surrounded us had disappeared at some point. The starry night sky was visible, and a gentle sound of rain rang out in the stillness.

That meant…

“Yeah. The fight is over.”

“….”

“You’ve won, and I’ve lost.”

Azar said that, then removed his helmet and dropped it to the floor.

Acknowledgment of defeat in a duel.

“The Dark Mage is dead.”

“….”

“Probably Aria too.”

Azar’s final words trembled faintly.

He pulled out a dagger from his cloak and threw it to me.

“Kill me. I have no regrets.”

“Don’t get all dramatic on me. I said I’d bash you, not that I’d kill you.”

“Is that so?”

Azar let out a hollow laugh, placed his hand on his forehead, and slumped down.

He looked too small for the Golden Lion title, almost like a frail kitten.

Minutes later, Azar spoke again.

“Hero, even in that game world, I was without Aria.”

“Yeah. You were almost living at your wife’s grave in a broken state.”

“How pathetic. What will happen to me now?”

“What will happen? You’ll pick yourself up. You’ll try to forget your wife; that’ll be her wish. Then you’ll become a Hero’s companion and overthrow the Demon King.”

“…Is that a certainty?”

“Yeah. I swear on the Hero’s name.”

“…I see.”

Azar made no movement afterward.

I hurriedly headed down the staircase, leaving him behind.

The battle with the Dark Mage. I anticipated I would win, but I never expected to suffer this much. Right now, above reassuring Azar, it was more important to check if Ophelia was safe.

As expected, Laila lay buried among the corpses of the Chimera and Demons near the corridor.

“Are you dead, by any chance?”

“…I’m hurt enough to feel like dying.”

Laila replied in a feeble voice.

Her body was covered with wounds, proving she had been through a lot, but the scales of a Dragonkin were thick. It wasn’t fatal. I had seen her walk away from worse injuries during our mercenary days.

As I lowered myself to check on her, she waved her hands and raised a finger.

“Quick, go! The Saintess went in alone.”

Following Laila’s words, I headed to the workshop.

And there.

“…Ophelia.”

“You’re late.”

Ophelia was slumped against the workshop wall.

The workshop was neater than I expected.

There were almost no traces of battle.

And the Dark Mage—

“Did you know? That was the first time I killed a person?”

“….”

It seemed the Dark Mage had been impaled through the heart by Ophelia’s sword, dying instantly.

His eyes wide open, blood pouring from every orifice of his face, honestly, it wasn’t a sight one could look at without feeling disturbed.

I withdrew my gaze from him and approached Ophelia.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I got pricked by a thorn, but it hurt enough to make me feel like dying; pouring divine power in made it heal quickly. I guess the Mark does have its perks.”

Divine Power is the ultimate counter to Magic.

With the Mark, Ophelia effectively could not lose a power struggle involving magic.

Moreover, thanks to nearly two years of training under me, she had significantly developed not only her swordsmanship but also her toughness.

For the Dark Mage, it would have been a perfect counter. There would be no way for him to defeat Ophelia.

“Elliot.”

“What?”

“I can’t walk.”

“Weren’t you just saying you weren’t hurt?”

“I just… can’t walk for some reason.”

Wondering what was going on, I saw that Ophelia’s face was chalk white. Her hands trembled as if she was afflicted with Tremor.

The first murder. When I first killed a human in the North, I swung my weapon solely focused on survival. I felt no guilt. I had to kill to live.

But for Ophelia, raised in an environment where survival wasn’t an issue, it seemed the experience weighed differently on her. It was no wonder her legs were weak.

“….”

There’s no helping it.

I picked her up.

The so-called princess carry.

“Uwaah….”

“What’s with that silly scream?”

“Y-you just picked me up without warning!”

Ophelia’s initial panic was short-lived as she leaned her head against my chest.

“What happened to that guy Azar?”

“I got him to surrender.”

“Injuries?”

“Unfortunately, none.”

“That monster of a man.”

I shrugged.

Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to block my Smite so easily. The Hero’s Divine Mark seemed to work far better than I’d imagined.

“Hey, Elliot.”

While we walked through the underground corridor, Ophelia spoke up.

“Before that bastard died, he said some nonsense to me.”

“What kind of nonsense?”

“He claimed he came from another world. He called himself a Possessor.”

I halted in my steps.

Ophelia continued.

“He said he had seen me in another world. He was in some strange game. Isn’t that strange?”

“….”

“I found it hard to believe. It didn’t seem like a lie. According to him, he didn’t want to do what he did. So… he begged for his life. It was pitiful.”

“What did you do?”

“I stabbed him first. His magic was stirring in his heart. If I left it, it was bound to explode.”

“You did the right thing. It was the correct decision.”

“And he said something even weirder last….”

Ophelia lifted her head.

Our green eyes met. She hesitantly began to speak.

“Elliot, you….”

I felt like I had a rough idea of what was coming.

I tried to maintain my composure, searching for the right words, but Ophelia never finished her sentence.

“No, never mind.”

“….”

“Just….”

However, before Ophelia could finish speaking, I lowered her back to the ground.

She frowned but I couldn’t afford to care.

I dropped to the floor, my legs giving way beneath me.

“Hey! What’s wrong?”

“It’s….”

It was nearly impossible to speak; my whole body ached like crazy.

The duration of the Hero’s Divine Mark is 10 turns.

So that’s 10 minutes in reality.

The backlash was beyond imagination.

The Hero in the game wouldn’t have experienced this.

“Well.”

I’m not a proper Hero.

I’m just a counterfeit who received the Mark. It wasn’t surprising my body couldn’t handle it.

Lying on the ground, I glanced at Ophelia.

“Ophelia….”

“What’s wrong! Are you hurt? Where? Do you need a doctor? No, no, do you need Holy Magic? Where does it hurt! Just tell me and I’ll….”

“I have muscle pain.”

“….”

“I can’t walk either.”

At my pathetic words, her lower lip quivered.