The Medal (1)
The medal system.
In truth, the medal system was content that only the hardcore veterans of Grand Fantasy ever bothered with.
On the surface, it sounded simple enough: accomplish great deeds, receive a medal befitting them. But true to its nature as endgame content, earning medals during actual play was ridiculously difficult. And even after all that suffering, the benefits were practically nonexistent. Getting a medal just meant a pension trickled in until you set out for the Demon Realm.
The Imperial Merit Medal, however, was different.
Imperial Merit Medal. Second only to the Imperial Platinum Medal in prestige. Considering that the empire's highest honor—the Imperial Platinum Medal—was essentially reserved for a single person, the Imperial Merit Medal was, for all practical purposes, the highest medal one could actually obtain.
And the moment you received it, a buff kicked in for a set period of time. Which was why I planned to squeeze every last drop of value out of the Imperial Merit Medal.
At a point when the tutorial was still five years away, and when I'd been reduced to a half-cripple who could barely move—I had absolutely no intention of getting it then.
"Why the hell?! Okay, fine, I can see how it happened! But still!!"
The moment I arrived at my room in the Holy See and was finally alone, I exploded. I'd had a perfect plan for snagging the Imperial Merit Medal at exactly the right moment, and that damn Four Heavenly King had completely wrecked it.
"Should I refuse the medal? But that might put me at odds with the imperial family. Or should I stall and say I'll accept it as late as possible? But there's no good reason for that."
From what I'd heard, the imperial family wanted to award me the medal as soon as humanly possible. Why, I had no idea.
Has no idea why the Fairy of Bombardment's master is fretting, but says to hang in there—mockingly.
"Thanks. In return, I'll bank one Honest Conversation."
Panics and immediately smashes its head into the ground.
"Yeah, still not letting you off. Go away."
Why does this thing keep digging its own grave with its mouth? I don't get it. Since there was no way to meet again in the mental world anyway, there was no way to have an Honest Conversation either—but the way it immediately face-planted suggested the Honest Conversation had left quite an impression.
"Anyway. You should be thinking about this too. When your master's worried, you're supposed to help, not mock me."
Says it still doesn't understand why you don't want the medal in the first place.
Says getting a medal means a steady pension, so what's not to like?
"Why would a Saintess need money in the first place?"
The Holy See fed me, clothed me, housed me—they took care of everything. Even if I received a pension, I'd planned to hand every last coin over to pad the church's budget. I'd learned that much from watching them dump Memory Mud all over my last training ground. Whenever I wanted something, the church leadership's sense of fiscal responsibility simply vanished. Padding the budget even a little this way would put my mind at ease.
Says more money is always better, no matter what.
"Isn't that a little materialistic for the spirit of a Holy Relic?"
Goddess, I'm not sure this is right. If you're going to give me a fairy assistant, shouldn't it be something bright and cheerful, devoted to me, pure of heart?
"Ah, whatever. I just want to be able to move already. Only getting thirty bombardments a day is too big a loss."
Says you seem to be showing early symptoms of bombardment addiction.
Bombardment addiction? What bombardment addiction?
There's a hard limit on how many I can fire per day, so of course wasting them is a shame. That's just common sense. It's absolutely not bombardment addiction, okay?
My hands might be trembling a little weirdly, but it's not that!
Treatment with holy power isn't omnipotent.
Once you've healed someone with holy power up to a certain point, no amount of additional holy power will do any good for a set period of time. In other words, healing has a cooldown. And that cooldown applies even if a different cleric tries to heal you.
Of course, if the second cleric is higher-ranking than the first, that's a different story. Higher-ranking clerics can heal more in a single application of holy power, and their cooldowns are shorter. So if a high-ranking cleric follows up after a regular one, they can heal a bit more and the cooldown shrinks.
Anyway, the point is that to recover as fast as possible, you need to combine holy power healing with other forms of treatment.
So why am I explaining all this?
"……Do I really have to take it?"
Because of that holy power healing cooldown, pure holy power alone couldn't get me back on my feet fast enough—which meant I had to choke down this godawful bitter medicine.
"You must take the medicine if you wish to recover quickly, Saintess."
"I know. I know, but…"
The medicine that young nun was holding out tasted so indescribably foul that I really, truly did not want to drink it.
Why doesn't this place have pills?! Why?!
Because Grand Fantasy is a medieval fantasy setting? If Grand Fantasy were a historically accurate game, I wouldn't say a word. This is a game that excuses every medieval historical inaccuracy with "it's fantasy, so it's within acceptable bounds"—and yet in places like this, it's suddenly a stickler for authenticity?!
I sighed and finally gave in. Fine. Lying around motionless every day was getting old. I needed to get better. With that thought, I gulped down the medicine the nun fed me.
"……Bleh."
Yep. Bitter.
After several days of agonizing convalescence, I could finally move again.
"Ugh. Being stuck in bed so long has left my body completely stiff."
I wonder if my close-combat instincts have completely atrophied. Parts of my body still ached, and the treatment wasn't fully finished, so intense exercise was off-limits.
"So just light exercise for now."
Oh, wait—before working out, should I fire off a quick bombardment? The thought of firing one after so long made my heart skip a beat.
……It was absolutely not because of bombardment addiction that my heart was racing. It's just that a good clean shot clears the mind. I was just missing that refreshing blast, that's all.
Grinning, I was about to head straight for the training grounds when—
"Oh, Cardinal? What is it?"
"Saintess, I know this is not something one should say to someone who has only just risen from her sickbed, but it seems you will need to visit the Imperial Palace in the near future."
"……Ah."
Right. The medal.
"The imperial family has once again requested that your medal ceremony be held as soon as possible."
…Looks like delaying it really wasn't an option. Then maybe I could at least dodge the hassle.
"……Couldn't they just send the medal to me?"
"If that is your wish, Saintess, I shall do my utmost to persuade the imperial family."
"No, never mind. That would be pushing it too far on my part."
The empire had always conducted medal ceremonies with a certain degree of formality. If they half-assed only mine, it could look like the imperial family was snubbing the Church. Still, it was a pain…
"Instead, please tell them I'd like the ceremony kept modest—no extravagant spending."
That way the ceremony would wrap up quickly. And it was a hard request to refuse. Who in the world turns down a chance to save money?
See? You've got to use your head.
"Hoh. The Saintess said that, did she?"
"So I am told."
The Emperor of the Empire, Destrian Aclessia, listened to the welcome report and smiled with satisfaction.
Indeed. This generation's Saintess was different.
Maria, the current Saintess, had been nothing more than an ordinary church orphan before her ascension. And the moment she became Saintess, she went straight to the battlefield.
No Saintess before her had ever chosen the battlefield as her first destination. The battlefield was too closely bound to death. Even a Saintess fears death. Especially right after receiving the Goddess's blessing, when her self-awareness as a Saintess was still incomplete—she was usually little different from an ordinary girl.
But Saintess Maria had thrown herself onto the battlefield without hesitation. And not to treat the wounded from the rear—she had fought the demons in bloody combat on the front lines.
Was that even possible by any reasonable standard?
On top of that, she had repelled one of the Four Heavenly Kings who appeared on the battlefield. Repelling a Four Heavenly King. An achievement no one had ever accomplished—achieved by a still-young girl.
"At last, the makings of a hero have appeared."
The empire needed a hero.
The relentless demon invasions. The slowly crumbling front lines. As this situation dragged on, the hopes of the empire's people had begun to wither. Hope was the driving force that kept the empire moving forward. They needed a means to replenish that force.
And a hero, by their mere existence, gives people hope.
In the Emperor's eyes, she had the makings of a hero.
Who else would ask that their medal ceremony be kept simple? A medal ceremony was a once-in-a-lifetime event. It was the empire's reward for achievements won through personal sacrifice. Anyone would gladly accept a lavish ceremony.
But Saintess Maria was different. Surely she had made the request wishing that the money for the ceremony be spent preparing against the demon invasion instead. She had naturally suppressed the vanity that every human possesses.
The Emperor, the imperial family, the empire—they would make the Saintess into the empire's hero. That was what the medal ceremony was for. That was why they had spread word of the Saintess's achievements throughout the entire empire.
Already, the Saintess was gradually becoming the empire's hero. And surely she would live up to those expectations and become the empire's hero in truth.