Chapter 19: The Saintess
Several days before Ian and his party returned, the Tronen royal palace was thrown into utter chaos. The cause was a woman who had suddenly appeared before the castle gates, introducing herself as the Saintess.
The title of Saintess held special significance in the Kingdom of Tronen, where the main goddess was the state religion. Much like the emperor who ruled over half the continent's empire, only one person on the entire continent could bear that name. For the Saintess was personally appointed by the main goddess herself as her messenger. No one—no entity—dared to use it lightly. Not even the Mountain Kingdom, which worshipped the goddess of the hunt as its state deity. Not the Yuldo nation in the continent's east, which rejected all goddesses. Not even the mighty empire that revered the dragon god. It was an honor bestowed upon just one individual: the envoy sent down from the heavens by the main goddess to the Holy Nation.
Yet here was someone boldly claiming to be that very Saintess, demanding the castle gates be opened. In a world governed by the main goddess's grace, no fool would dare impersonate her out of fear of divine retribution... which meant this woman who had appeared out of nowhere must truly be the Saintess. But why had she suddenly come knocking at the castle gates? Why now, when the Saintess was known to seclude herself in the Holy Nation, rarely venturing out?
Aria, the current princess of Tronen and crown princess poised to become the next queen, clutched her throbbing head upon hearing the report.
"...The Saintess? For real?"
"Yes, Your Highness. No one would have the audacity to impersonate the goddess's messenger, the Saintess. It is certainly her."
"But why the Saintess? Why here at our castle?"
No prior word from the Holy Nation, not even a whisper. Aria's retainers were just as baffled.
"Has anyone heard of her causing some incident? Does anyone know why the Saintess would leave the Holy Nation?"
"I've heard she departs only when an oracle from the goddess descends."
"An oracle? Hm. Has anyone heard of a recent divine oracle?"
"That's... we don't know either, Your Highness."
"Tch, what a pain. Fine. Escort her inside for now."
Regardless of the reason, the Saintess had graced them with her presence. They had no choice but to receive her properly. Failure to do so would be seen as irreverence toward the divine, giving ammunition to hostile nobles—and even friendly factions might criticize them.
"Yes. And what shall we do next?"
"What else? I'll go greet her personally."
"Understood."
With that to her retainer, Aria quickly wrapped up her work, left her office, and hurried to the reception room with her attendants in tow.
Upon entering, she saw a woman clad head to toe in pristine white robes, sitting alone on the sofa and sipping tea. No skin exposed whatsoever. Her hair fully veiled. White gloves on her hands. Skirt hems trailing to her ankles. Even her face shrouded in a thin cloth mask up to her chin—its shape vaguely visible, but no details discernible. Only her lips peeked out when she drank. An oppressively modest outfit, yet it somehow suited her, blending with the sacred aura she exuded.
"Greetings."
Aria wasn't sure if the woman knew of the uproar she'd caused in the royal family. Her voice was serene as she offered the greeting. Aria introduced herself politely.
"Greetings. I am Aria, crown princess of Tronen."
"Ah, the crown princess. Nice to meet you. I'm Ashera, the Saintess."
"I've heard of you, Saintess Ashera."
"Oh? You know me?"
Aria nodded at the Saintess's question.
"Of course. The Saintess, messenger of the main goddess. Guardian of the Holy Nation. A being who's existed for centuries, perhaps longer. Who on this continent doesn't know you?"
Aria wasn't young herself, but the Saintess predated even her—a legendary figure. Saintess Ashera. Hundreds of years, maybe more. Her achievements as the goddess's envoy were commonplace in history lessons across the continent. Scholars studying the past felt a strange familiarity with her name; it cropped up so frequently. As a princess, Aria had been drilled on Saintess Ashera's tales until her ears blistered.
The silhouette of eyes behind Ashera's mask curved in amusement at Aria's words.
"...Hmmm. Is that so?"
"More importantly, may I sit here?"
"Of course. This is your castle, isn't it? I'm the guest here—no need to ask my permission."
"How could I presume? Before the envoy of the goddess who rules all creation."
"Hmm, true. But the hospitality here's excellent. I love the scent of this tea."
"I'm glad."
"Yes. Reward the servant who brought it later. In my name."
"A reward in the Saintess's name. That servant will boast of it for generations."
Ashera sipped her tea again. A gentle curve to her lips. Watching the smile, Aria asked a servant for her own cup, then turned to the Saintess.
"To be direct: why have you come to Tronen so suddenly? Was it a divine oracle?"
"Straight to the point, I see. I like that."
"...Could you answer first? I'm worried sick."
"It's nothing major."
Clink. Ashera set down her teacup and smiled faintly.
"I've heard there's an adventurer named Ian in this kingdom. Do you know him?"
"So the Saintess is looking for me?"
"Yes, that's right."
No sooner had we dismounted the carriage than we clambered right back on, racing toward the royal capital without a moment's rest. Hearing Sierra's explanation, I was dumbfounded.
I mean, why the hell would the Saintess be looking for me?
"Why? I have zero connection to her."
"That's what I'm wondering too. When Aria told me, I was floored. I even asked if you had any ties to the Holy Nation... but you said no."
"Hmm..."
"Or hubby, did you commit some blasphemy or something?"
"Me? Blasphemy? Pfft..."
I'm not crazy—blasphemy in a world where gods actually exist? A bottom-feeder like me, living like a nobody, wouldn't do that... Wait. Actually!
My original world had no gods. Or at least, none that chatted with people or smote you for trash-talking them. Sure, myths had gods punishing insults, but those were just stories...
Anyway, before meeting Cheong-ah, I remembered cursing the goddess every night before bed. Especially on rough camping nights—I'd go full meltdown. Hey, getting isekai'd into a shit life? Of course I'd vent. Surely the goddess would cut some slack for that?
But despite my shameless rationalizing, cold sweat trickled down my spine.
"Bella, what are you saying? There's no way my husband would do something so crude."
"Yeah, beast. Our Yeonja wouldn't."
"Right? Hubby's a perv, but not an idiot."
"..."
"Yeonja, why've you gone silent all of a sudden?"
"Uh, would complaining about my lot or cursing the goddess while drunk count as blasphemy?"
"Did you do it, hubby?"
"Ah, yeah. A bit...?"
Honestly, a lot. Every damn night, like I said.
"Hah, I thought my hubby just had special powers, but he's got balls too—cursing the goddess."
"..."
"Kidding, kidding. Relax, you dope. It'll be fine."
"Yeah, like Bella said, no big deal. The goddess is merciful. If venting curses got you smited, you'd have been zapped ages ago. No way she'd send the Saintess over something petty."
"Yeah, true."
"Exactly."
Petty god striking for a few curses? And if she did, Sierra was right—I'd have been toast by now. Reassuring myself like that, the carriage sped on toward the castle.