The Villain's Choice (4)
Timothy, the Archbishop, pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a long, weary sigh.
“Father… you said you wouldn’t scold me, right?”
The silver-haired girl watched the Archbishop’s gesture, then lowered her head slightly as if sizing him up, speaking carefully.
“But it’s so boring… Coming all the way back to Westford just to pray all day… and there’s not even a single thing to do in the village! I ran away from the nagging adults and hid here, but I never expected guests to show up! How was I supposed to know you’d bring up something that important…? Hehe…”
“Saintess, I am not scolding you. I simply need you to recognize your own position. As a figure who should set an example for the faithful, can you not plot pranks behind curtains or eavesdrop on others’ conversations?”
Her playful spirit, inherited from her saintly title, carried a curiously childish edge.
Archbishop Timothy had experienced situations like this before. He had noticed the faint ripple of the curtain during his conversation with Edwin and understood that the Saintess was hiding there.
That was precisely why he had not immediately agreed to Edwin’s request not to tell anyone.
The Saintess herself was already listening in silence from behind the curtain.
At Edwin’s urging, Timothy finally answered with a firm “Yes.” Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—he left without realizing the Saintess had been hiding behind the curtain the entire time.
Yet even now, he was not entirely certain whether his actions had been correct.
“In the end, I’m going to get scolded! You said you wouldn’t, didn’t you?! Dad is such a liar. Even an Archbishop like you lying… Ugh.”
The girl let out a light, contemptuous snort, then threw herself onto the sofa in the center of the reception room and began rolling around wildly.
“Whew… She’s tall, but she’s still just a little kid, really…”
The Archbishop watched her unbefittingly light behavior and again placed a hand to his forehead.
But the Saintess was far from finished.
“I’m not a little kid! You don’t understand. What’s a saintess? You don’t even call me by name anymore. I finally escaped those nagging old women and came here, and even here it’s the same! No fun at all!”
“I am, after all, the Archbishop of this diocese. How could I possibly speak to the Saintess so casually? If the ministers of my own country saw this, they would punish me severely…”
“…Does that mean even at the Academy, I have to keep addressing everyone with honorifics?”
“The Academy claims neutrality, but it is, after all, part of the Empire. The majority of its students are also Empire citizens. Foreign students can bend our customs somewhat, but as a national Archbishop like myself, the situation is different. So please, stop pretending.”
“Well, that’s good at least… But I don’t understand. Father is so stupid.”
Archbishop Timothy sighed at the Saintess’s lonely murmur and briefly recalled the past.
He had once taken in a scruffy orphan from the back alleys and raised her as his adopted daughter. He never imagined she would one day be chosen as a saint and grow into such a proper young woman.
The Saintess had been summoned to the homeland at a young age for several years of training. Now, with her Academy studies approaching, she had returned to Westford—her true hometown—for a brief respite.
“Sigh… Anyway, Father, is it really true that a hero will be born among the Academy students? And this year? Even if that’s the case, isn’t it strange that a hero would appear among students?”
“That is something we cannot know for certain. There is a legend that the First Hero, Valerio, was chosen by the Holy Sword at an age well before the legal majority. The Saintess is also typically chosen around ten years old. So, as long as a hero is possible, there is no reason it cannot happen. And Saintess Erich’s prophecy has never once been wrong in eighty years. It is only reasonable to conclude that it will come true this time as well.”
“I honestly don’t know. The Bible says that when the world is plunged into chaos beyond human control, the gods will send a hero as their representative. But is the world not that chaotic right now? The state of our homeland’s old men is truly deplorable, but that does not make it a threat to the very essence of the empire.
The Great Demon has not returned, the demon worshippers are few, and the last war between the Empire and the Western Kingdom was fought a hundred years ago.”
“We must not judge the gods’ will by human standards, Saintess. What the gods have declared must have a purpose. Moreover, the world is not entirely peaceful even now. Although the Great Demon fell, the miasma still lingers in the Forbidden Zone. The number of monsters sighted each year keeps rising, and our homeland is corrupted and unable to perform its duties. There is no reason to be surprised if demon worshippers swell their ranks once more. How can we call this peaceful?”
“Mmm…”
When the Archbishop countered, the Saintess let out a soft groan and fell into thought.
“Even if the world appears peaceful for now, it can turn to ashes in the blink of an eye with a single gesture. We must never forget that the Great Demon’s arrival on the East Continent took less than a single day. The gods have arrangements even for lambs. Our duty is simply to follow their will without question…”
“I know, I know. So there really will be a hero… Then, perhaps Edwin could be the one chosen by the Holy Sword? He looked like a young man close to my age, so he must be studying at the Academy. He behaved with maturity far beyond his years, his actions carried clear purpose, and his face—”
“Hehe, he has the same striking features as his father. But one does not choose a hero by appearance. If the gods heard that, they might burst into laughter.”
“Oh my, really? Do you think Edwin could be chosen? You said so earlier when you were talking to yourself.”
“I did think about it for a moment, but how could we possibly understand the gods’ lofty intentions? The choice of a hero rests entirely with their will. And, Saintess—whatever you heard earlier, you must never reveal it anywhere—”
“Sigh, really! Father! I know that much. I swear on the name of the goddess—I will never tell anyone. Not even the person involved. Isn’t that enough?”
When the Archbishop brought up the past incident again, the Saintess puffed out her cheeks in reply.
“Besides, Father, when it comes time for Academy studies, I’ll need to go earlier. Not just earlier—maximum acceleration. I’ll convey my wishes directly to the Academy side. Please handle the official correspondence to the homeland. If I send word myself, the old archbishops will just chatter nonsense. Understood? Sigh, just thinking about it gives me a headache…”
“If that is what the Saintess desires, then there is no reason it cannot be done… But did something change your mind overnight? Until yesterday you wanted to enjoy maximum rest before going… and entering mid-semester may also make academic adjustment difficult.”
“Hehe… I’m not the old me anymore. In the homeland I was already known as a child saint. How could I be troubled by starting Academy studies a little late? Besides, seeing Edwin made me even more curious. I wonder how someone like him lives at the Academy.
He seemed like a proper gentleman with refined manners. He’ll probably guide me kindly through all sorts of things, won’t he? He’ll introduce me to the handsome, beautiful classmates as well. If we become close, before long I’ll be calling them by first name, playing together, and enjoying a fun school life. There are so many such pleasures waiting for me, how could I endure boring Westford for months? That would be torture—pure torture.”
“Sigh… Very well.”
“And thinking about it, I’ll need to keep my identity hidden for a while. If I flaunt ‘I’m the saint’ everywhere, who would want to befriend me? It doesn’t matter as long as the principal knows, right?
I’ll handle the rest myself later, so please arrange for an appropriate alias.”
“Haa… Very well. I will take care of the small matters. Please focus only on preparing for Academy. Really, whose daughter’s temperament is this…”
Timothy shook his head gently and smiled faintly, then soon changed his expression into one of genuine worry as he looked at the Saintess.
“But… are you truly certain this is all right?”
“What do you mean?”
The Saintess pretended not to understand, and the Archbishop repeated his earlier words.
“If Saintess Erich’s prophecy comes true, the Holy Sword Selection Ceremony will soon be held among the Academy students. If the sword chooses its bearer and a hero of this age is born, the Saintess will be entrusted with the role of encompassing him—regardless of her own wishes.
Public opinion will naturally demand the same. The homeland will continuously press for it. The union of hero and saint is an excellent image for the empire. And we already have a historical precedent of delivering a First Hero to the Empire, do we not? With such precedent, the high-ranking officials of the Holy Kingdom will naturally be anxious, and they will come to pressure you at every opportunity…”
“Ah, I get it.”
The Saintess cut him off with a casual wave of her hand.
“Don’t worry, Father. I made that decision when I was chosen as saintess before. And in a way, it’s fortunate. Even though the previous saintess, Erich, lived her entire life in celibacy for lack of a suitable partner, I at least have a hero as a partner, don’t I? A hero is an unbeatable first-rate fiancé no matter where you look.”
“Still…”
“Don’t worry at all, Father. I am not saying this lightly. I am extremely satisfied with my current situation. I was once an orphan from the back alleys, but thanks to your kindness I became a noble, and now I have reached the highest, most beloved position among the saints in the eyes of the entire world. Living once is our fate—how could there be a better life than this?”
She paused, took a breath, and continued.
“And if I shine with the hero and the world knows my name, my position within the Holy Kingdom will only grow stronger with each passing day. Even the Pope had to yield to Erich’s authority, yet with a hero by my side, the power would be immeasurable.
So you have no need to worry. When the time comes, I will personally uproot every last maggot devouring and siphoning the Holy Kingdom’s blood while the people’s hearts are ripped out…”
The Archbishop sighed deeply at the Saintess’s increasingly harsh words.
“Saintess… No, my daughter. Christina.”
“Ah, Father?”
Archbishop Timothy stepped closer and gently stroked her silver hair. For the first time in several years since her childhood, she felt a flicker of surprise.
“Such purification, such authority—these things are not your duty. Those are my responsibilities, Tina. You must not concern yourself with them. The saint is, of course, the most honored position among those who serve the gods, but you need not be bound by the role entirely.
I deeply hope you enjoy a carefree school life with your peers at the Academy, but that is all. The choice of whom to befriend is yours alone—not under external pressure.”
He fell silent for a moment, then looked into her eyes with a melancholic smile.
“I am sorry you were burdened with too heavy a weight for so long. It was clearly my fault that you came to harbor such bitterness… I have always prided myself on living without a single speck of dust, yet in truth I merely turned a blind eye to injustice.”
“No! Father, you don’t—”
The Saintess tried to protest, but he continued without pause.
“Yet today that boy who crossed my path kindled a spark within me. Although it is still faint, it is a spark that may one day blaze brightly…”
“Father…”
“Fighting is my duty as your father. The only thing you must pursue is your own happiness. Remember that well.”