Saintess Sistina

The church was as peaceful as it had ever been.

And yet, ever since I had stumbled upon Bishop Xavier's secret out on the street, I couldn't shake a peculiar tension even in the midst of that calm.

Bishop Xavier's reputation among the people was excellent. I had heard that from his days as an apprentice priest, he had spent decades helping those in need, and that he had even tended the wounded on the battlefield. He must have been serving at this church for a very long time as well.

And a man like that was actually trying to kill the Saintess?

If I hadn't heard it from the Narration, no one would have believed it. I could barely believe it myself.

Late that night, I sat on a spread of straw in the warehouse behind the church, turning the coin purse Saintess Sistina had given me over in my hands.

I hadn't spent a single coin since failing to buy anything at the weapon shop. There wasn't really anywhere to spend it — but holding onto it brought her warm smile to mind, and that made me feel a little better.

I had finally arrived in the other world I had dreamed of, and yet things had gone so poorly that just getting through each day was more than I could handle. I had pictured myself with a splendid sword at my hip, casting powerful magic, piling up fame and fortune. It hadn't been that easy.

And through all of it, Sistina was the only person in this world who had helped me and understood me without asking for anything in return.

Whether that kindness was born of a Saintess's sense of duty or simply of her own nature, I didn't know. What I did know was this: without her, I would still be stuck on the streets.

"Sistina..."

If the Narration wasn't lying, Sistina's life was in danger. The thought that the only person in this world who had been good to me might die made it impossible to sit still.

Besides, I still hadn't even confirmed whether she really wasn't wearing any underwear!

Not that I would ever be able to confirm that.

As it happened, tomorrow was the day Saintess Sistina would visit the church. I gathered my courage and decided I would find some way to tell her.

Day broke.

Because today was the day the Saintess would visit, the church was bustling from morning with priests making preparations. Bishop Xavier was there as well, of course. He wore a kind smile, chatting casually with the priests.

I wiped the windows, watching him from the corner of my eye, hoping the Narration might offer some new scrap of information.

If I could have, I would have asked who this "master" he served was. What Bishop Xavier really was. Why he wanted to kill the Hero and the Saintess.

But contrary to my hopes, the voice remained silent.

All I knew was that Bishop Xavier served some "master," and that he intended to kill Saintess Sistina.

That a man who had led the Church of Freya for so long, who had earned the respect of so many, would try to kill the Saintess... Not a single person in this building would believe a word of it.

And that was the problem.

Even if I told Saintess Sistina, she wouldn't believe me. She would think I was an ungrateful lunatic, spreading wild stories after she had pulled me off the streets. I would be thrown out of the church — but the truth was, that didn't frighten me anymore.

At the beginning, I had arrived in this world looking like the worst kind of beggar. I hadn't had a choice. But now I had decent clothes on my back, and though it wasn't much, I had the money Saintess Sistina had given me. Even if I wasn't thrown out, I had been planning to leave eventually anyway. I couldn't spend the rest of my life sponging off the church as a janitor.

So I would do what I could. And if it still wasn't enough, so be it. If I stood by knowing Bishop Xavier's scheme and Sistina was murdered, I didn't think I could live with that guilt.

"The Saintess has arrived."

One of the apprentice priests announced her arrival. A moment later, Saintess Sistina appeared inside the church, her steps quiet and demure. She was still so beautiful that merely looking at her felt as though it might add years to your life.

I still didn't sense anything unusual from Bishop Xavier. If I could at least know when and how he planned to kill her, that would have helped.

When I had seen him on the street, he had been talking to someone suspicious. Was that person involved in this plan too? I had no way of knowing.

Because I didn't know when the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠plan would be carried out, I wanted to talk to Sistina as soon as possible. In the worst case, it might happen today, and she could be murdered before I could lift a finger.

I didn't even know how to make her believe me. There was no one here who would simply accept that Bishop ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Xavier was plotting such a thing. If thinking about it wasn't going to produce an answer, I would just have to charge in.

First, I needed to create an opportunity to talk to Sistina alone. Somewhere with no eyes watching and no ears listening would be even better.

Damn it. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that even getting that far was next to impossible. Sistina was the Saintess. There was no ordinary way I was going to get a one-on-one conversation with her.

Wasn't there something I could do?

"Ah."

A thought flashed through my mind. A completely insane one.

"How are you today, Saintess?"

"The Goddess still hasn't given me an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answer. Perhaps it is because I am lacking..."

"Come now. You mustn't say such things. The time simply hasn't come yet. The Goddess will surely answer your devotion one day."

After the Saintess's prayer time ended, Bishop Xavier exchanged words with Sistina as he always did. He spoke with a kind smile and a gentle voice, but knowing his plan, I caught a small change in him. The anxious, restless look had vanished from his face.

Putting together what I knew, it was because he no longer needed to find the Hero. All he had to do now was kill Saintess Sistina and be done with it.

No one else could even imagine it. But once you knew, you could see it.

Now it was time to create a chance to talk with the Saintess alone. If she left like this, I would have to wait another week — and something could happen in the meantime.

"Alright."

I picked up the cleaning tools and stepped out of the church, making a show of going to clean outside. There were far too many eyes and ears indoors. I would look for my chance out here.

Of course, fewer people watching didn't mean I could have a long conversation with the Saintess. As always, I would be lucky to get enough time for a brief exchange of greetings. And with that kind of time, I could never explain Bishop Xavier's conspiracy, let alone convince her of it.

But I had an idea.

Even I had to admit it was a plan that could only be called insane.

I pretended to clean outside the church and waited for Sistina to come out. A short while later, she did.

I moved quickly, slipping naturally into her line of sight. I had to speak when no one else was standing too close to her.

Now.

"Ah, Saintess. Thank you so much for last time."

I bowed my head slightly in greeting, and she smiled warmly.

"Yunoa, you've been working hard since morning."

"Not at all. It's only natural. More importantly..."

I quickly checked whether anyone was close enough to overhear. There was a doorkeeper up ahead, and two priests were visible, but they were far away. Right now, I could deliver my words solely to Saintess Sistina without anyone else hearing.

"I have something important to tell you. I can see things other people can't. Your life is in danger, Saintess."

"What? What on earth are you—"

"I can't go into detail here, so please make a place where we can talk one-on-one."

I poured the words out unilaterally and rapidly at a clearly flustered Sistina.

"Hey! You there! What do you think you're doing, holding up the Saintess!"

Damn it. One of the priests was shouting at me and coming this way. I was out of time. I had to somehow create a place where I could talk to Sistina alone.

"Yunoa?"

"Please believe me. I have proof. Saintess — you're not wearing any underwear."

"......!"

Sistina's face flushed bright red in an instant. Judging by that reaction, she really wasn't wearing any.

"You little— instead of doing the cleaning you're supposed to!"

The priest approached with an angry face and finally grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. Well, whatever. I had said everything I could.

"My apologies, Saintess. I hope this fellow didn't say anything strange to you."

The priest asked Sistina as he dragged me backward. She was still gazing at me with a slightly flushed face. Then, after a moment, she gave a slight shake of her head and spoke.

"...No, it's all right. We were only exchanging a longer greeting than usual. Well then."

Whew. That took ten years off my life.

And so Saintess Sistina left. The priest was scolding me as if he were about to foam at the mouth, but his words didn't even register.

I had done everything I could. Now I just had to wait for Sistina's response.

After the evening cleaning was done, I returned to the church warehouse and collapsed onto the straw.

"Haa..."

It was still dizzying to think about. But that had been the only way to create a pretext for talking with Sistina alone.

I could still see it vividly — the way her face had gone red in an instant. Looking at her like that, she didn't seem like a Saintess at all. Just a cute girl.

For a Saintess with a sacred, pure image, having someone else find out she wasn't wearing underwear would be a tremendous shock. It was a fact no one would normally ever be able to discover, and she knew that perfectly well.

But I knew it. And I had even warned her that her life was in danger. By now she would be going out of her mind with embarrassment, and she wouldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be able to stop turning my words over in her head.

If the plan didn't go sideways, she would probably try to create an opportunity to talk with me herself before long.

There was no way a bottom-rung church janitor like me could carve out enough time to speak with the Saintess. But if the Saintess wanted that opportunity, she could make it whenever she liked.

"But why wasn't she wearing underwear, anyway..."

What's with that? If you're going to say something like that, you might as well just tell me.

You were dead silent when it actually mattered.

Whatever. There's no point getting angry at a Narration that doesn't even talk back. I would only be hurting myself.

A sudden drowsiness washed over me. I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes.

The straw spread across the floor prickled and stabbed at my skin. In the end, it was only after tossing and turning for dozens of minutes that I finally drifted off.