Taming the Evil Saintess

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“Dammit…!”

“I told you it was just a joke!”

“You jerk!”

Ophelia said in a sniffling voice.

The misunderstanding was cleared up, but she still remained quite upset.

‘You… you’re such a jerk. You’re just toying with me.’

She had that attitude for a while. For several days, she wouldn’t even speak to me, until Laila intervened and finally got her to listen.

“You garbage, jerk.”

Of course, the misunderstanding was resolved, but her anger was still there.

Thump. Ophelia kicked my shin.

It didn’t hurt, though.

“Haha. Saint Lady, don’t hate Poppy too much.”

Laila smiled wide as she tried to placate her, but Ophelia shot daggers at my back, still disgruntled.

I might have gone a bit overboard teasing her, but I certainly wasn’t apologizing.

“So, Elliot. Where are we going now?”

“I have someone to meet in Auriga.”

“Please tell me it’s not the Demon King’s Army again?”

“That shouldn’t be the case, I hope.”

As I answered Laila’s question, we moved on.

We left Labre Territory and arrived in a small southern town that housed the Adventurer Guild.

Here, I planned to send replies to Yurede and Owen and then look for the remaining named characters in Auriga.

“Just out of curiosity, who is that guy?”

“That’s the blacksmith Olmen.”

“Ah. Looking to get a new sword, huh?”

It seemed the name Olmen was quite renowned even in Auriga.

After all, there’s no shame in calling him the continent’s best blacksmith.

Not all marks are battle-oriented. Just like Owen’s mark specialized in information gathering, there are those meant for everyday use. Olmen had been bestowed with the smithing god’s mark.

Given that my sword had shattered in the fight with Azar, I was inclined to ask Olmen to forge a new one.

“I heard that blacksmith doesn’t just make swords for anyone.”

“It’s fine.”

I figured that out and already brought a recommendation letter from Azar.

I could even show him the mark if needed.

“By the way.”

While I was writing a letter with the paper I got from the Adventurer Guild, Laila sighed heavily and leaned her body against the table.

She gestured toward Ophelia, who was sulking at the entrance.

“Are you just going to leave the Saint Lady like that?”

“Eventually, it will sort itself out in a few days. She has mood swings like crazy.”

“True, that might be the case. But it’s better to resolve emotional conflicts as they come. Being passive might just make everything worse.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“We can fight our way through problems because we’re warriors, but the Saint Lady can’t.”

Laila then gazed at a nearby stall.

It was a shop selling all sorts of knick-knacks.

“What’s with that?”

“It’s a well-known fact that women love gifts.”

“Aren’t you a woman too?”

“I’m a warrior.”

“….”

“You clumsy jerk.”

Laila slapped my back and walked toward the guild’s reception area.

After watching her brazen figure, I collected my letter and stood up.

Laila did have a point.

Upon reflection, I realized I had only ever troubled Ophelia and had no memories of giving her anything. Of course, I had never received a gift either.

“Ophelia.”

A few minutes later, I approached Ophelia, who still had her cheeks puffed up in dissatisfaction.

When our eyes met, she scrunched her face.

“Don’t make that face.”

“Shut it.”

“Here, take this.”

I handed Ophelia the item I had just bought.

A hairpin shaped like a laurel leaf.

No matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t find anything suitable for Ophelia at this rural market. So I chose the least flashy accessory I could find.

“What is this?”

“It’s a gift. I’ve wanted to express my gratitude in various ways.”

“….”

Ophelia stared intently at the hairpin, then lifted her gaze.

As if she was trying to discern my intentions, her eyes narrowed and suddenly flushed red, like a chameleon.

“W-what? This junk… I don’t need it. You’re giving me trash, hmph!”

She said that, but her earlobes were turning red.

So she must have liked it, right?

I chuckled and said, “Even if it’s junk, what matters is the heart behind it. I mentioned this when Emily visited, didn’t I?”

Indeed, Ophelia was still wearing the golden brooch.

She likely considered Emily her friend in her own way.

In that sense, Ophelia gingerly placed the hairpin in her pocket as if it were something holy.

“Aren’t you going to wear it?”

“Why would I wear your cheap gift? There are far better hairpins out there.”

“Yet you didn’t throw it away.”

“Tch! I will throw it away! I swear I’ll throw it away when I’m not looking at you anymore!”

Ophelia yelled out and then seemed to realize she might have overstepped, cautiously glancing at me.

Did she think I might be hurt by her words?

That little concern was bothersome.

So I decided to tease her.

“Well, truth be told, I was actually planning to give you a book instead of this hairpin.”

“A book? What kind of book?”

“I remembered you were staring at that explicit drawing book with wide eyes last time. I wanted to find a book that could enlighten Ophelia to have a more wholesome understanding of relationships, but sadly, nothing was found in this rural area. I figured I could find something appropriate in a big city later….”

I couldn’t finish my sentence.

Ophelia head-butted me.

*

Working in the smithy is nothing but a series of monotonous tasks.

Mostly, it’s just treading on the bellows, organizing tools, or moving iron bars.

Even that is too tough for a girl, so apprentice Iliene was busy greeting customers at the counter upstairs.

“Sigh.”

Iliene sighed.

Maybe she wasn’t cut out for blacksmithing after all.

She had been lucky enough to become a disciple of the greatest blacksmith, Olmen, but for years she hadn’t even held a hammer, just doing menial tasks.

That fact was frustrating for her. No matter how much of a craftsman’s unwritten rule there is, they should at least let her make a sword or a hoe or something.

“What a nightmare.”

Her chance for marriage had long passed her by.

Working in front of the furnace every day was drying out her skin and turning her into an unnecessarily muscular woman.

Did she really need to sacrifice her value as a woman just to become a blacksmith? Shouldn’t she just grab a decent man when she saw one?

As she daydreamed while working on her tasks, the door suddenly creaked open.

A pair of men and women entered the smithy.

The man was clad in dull armor, tall build, and had a somewhat decent face.

In contrast, the woman behind him had a petite frame and was wearing a strange iron mask.

“Uh… Are you customers?”

“That’s right.”

“And who is the companion behind you…?”

“She’s my younger sister. She’s been afflicted with leprosy since childhood, which left her with a hideous face, so she wears that mask most of the time.”

Thump.

Suddenly, the woman hit the man’s back.

“What? I hope you can understand that my personality is a bit messy too.”

“Ah, yes…”

Now that’s an unusual pair of customers.

As Iliene contemplated, the man approached her and leaned on the counter.

He admired the weapons hanging behind her, a smile creeping onto his face.

“These are some fine works.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“The locks and the forging – all top-notch among what I’ve seen. Surely, a remarkable blacksmith is at work here.”

“You have a good eye.”

Iliene felt a genuine fondness for him.

He seemed gentle and also had a keen interest in blacksmithing.

“I came to see the master of the smithy, but is he inside?”

“Uh….”

“Don’t let just anyone in.”

Olmen would always say that whenever customers arrived.

His smithy was known for its fame, and several visitors came daily. Iliene had turned them all away. Today would likely be no different.

“The master is….”

“He wouldn’t let just anyone in, right?”

Before Iliene could respond, the man took out a piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to her.

The seal on it was one she recognized well.

It was the emblem of the Labre lord, Golden Lion Azar.

“Ah….”

So he was a VIP.

Iliene quickly straightened herself.

“There’s no need to be so formal. I’m just a wandering knight.”

“Ah, I see….”

Now it made sense.

With that demeanor and robust build, she could see he was a knight.

“Um.”

Iliene felt her heart flutter.

Even objectively, the knight was quite handsome.

With his armor, he looked wealthier than most.

The perfect catch for a husband.

Shouldn’t she just swoop in and grab him?

“….”

As Iliene seriously contemplated, the girl in the iron mask stepped into view.

The piercing green eyes glowing through the mask seemed to be glaring at Iliene.

As if warning her that if she tried anything funny, she’d be killed.

Just a glance was enough to send chills down her spine; the girl’s eyes were filled with animosity.

“Uh, um. I’ll go call the master.”

Iliene hastily made her exit.

Ultimately, she had no choice but to abandon her plan to flirt with the knight.