The Saintess from the Holy Nation (2)
After a minor commotion, the saintess and her entourage headed to the imperial palace. What followed the initial shock was a vague sense of fear.
Seraphina had heard all sorts of rumors about Lydia. The most terrifying one went like this:
- The queen of the Liannen Kingdom drinks the blood of virgins!
- She bathes in the blood of innocent children!
An immortal witch, the worst of humanity, who would stop at nothing for eternal life. Those horrifying rumors were more than enough to terrify the innocent saintess…
“Welcome from afar. You're free to do as you please during your stay—rest easy.”
‘Short and sweet.’
In person, Lydia didn't quite match the image of a notorious witch. For starters, she was round and plump—and so tiny her feet barely touched the floor. Everyone here was tall and lanky, after all.
“Your Majesty, if I may be so bold—the Holy Nation's custom requires kissing the back of the saintess's hand upon meeting her.”
The nobles flew into a rage at Cardinal Baron's impertinence, but Lydia casually raised a hand to silence them.
“Very well. A saintess is, officially, the leader of a nation. If that's your custom, it makes sense to follow it. But let's keep it brief.”
Seraphina approached Lydia with some trepidation. Up close, the empress seemed even smaller. Seraphina gently placed her hand over Lydia's.
And Lydia's thoughts were…
‘What if Sisilia-nyang actually licks the real saintess?’
“……”
Something was off about this country.
* * *
As it was late, they agreed to meet again tomorrow and the Holy Nation group headed to their assigned lodgings. Since it was for the saintess, the heretic inquisitors thoroughly inspected the rooms. Sisilia tagged along out of curiosity, utterly fascinated by these inquisitors she'd never seen before.
“Do you really tie people up and burn them at the stake?”
The stern-looking female inquisitor replied coolly when Sisilia spoke up.
“Don't talk to me. It's contagious.”
Sisilia blinked, then whispered to the inquisitor.
“No one's around.”
“……”
The inquisitor stopped checking under the sofa and stood up. She glanced around, then let out a small sigh.
“You think we burn people because we want to? We do it because we're ordered to.”
“Must be tough.”
“It's driving me insane. I didn't even want to go on this long-term assignment… Got pushed into it by seniority.”
Sisilia patted the inquisitor's shoulder sympathetically.
“You'll see the light someday.”
“…Thanks. How about you? Don't you have to attend every event here?”
“We get hazard pay, at least…”
“Whoa, lucky. We don't get anything like that.”
“But you're clergy—don't you get weekends off?”
“We live for those days. Wait, don't tell me you don't…?”
Sisilia nodded glumly. The inquisitor patted her shoulder with genuine pity.
“How old are you?”
“S-Seventeen.”
The inquisitor clapped a hand over her mouth.
“No way, you're way too young.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“No way, you don't look it.”
“…For real? Hmm. I get that a lot, actually. Not married yet, though.”
Having built some rapport, Sisilia subtly probed.
“But is it really okay for me to guard the saintess up close?”
“Mm, that's what I heard.”
“I wouldn't trust someone like me. The saintess must be incredibly strong, huh?”
The inquisitor waved it off.
“Nah, no way. The saintess doesn't know how to fight or anything. But… yeah, you're right. It is weird. Entrusting Her Holiness's protection to a knight from another country.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully, then spotted Sisilia and gave an awkward smile.
“Ah, sorry. It's not that I don't trust you—we're just kinda conservative.”
“I get it. The saintess is super important, after all.”
As Sisilia's smile darkened ever so slightly, a commotion erupted.
“Oops—lost my focus.”
The inquisitor pretended to resume her inspection and hurriedly asked.
“Wh-Where did I leave off?”
“Under the sofa.”
“Thanks! Knight, take your position!”
“Yep.”
Sisilia strolled to the door with hands behind her back, glancing sideways. She confirmed the inquisitor's hand slipping under the bed and back out.
Then the saintess and her retinue of clergy entered. Seraphina lit up like it was her first time seeing the room, but quickly bowed her head at a glance from Cardinal Baron beside her.
Baron reached out to Sisilia—but no handshake. She never shook hands with men anyway.
“…Having a famed knight like you guard the saintess puts my mind at ease.”
“No trouble at all.”
Sisilia replied demurely, gazing up at him with innocent eyes.
“If you're suspicious, feel free to assign someone.”
“No need for that.”
Baron flashed a cold smile.
“Then, I leave her in your care.”
Baron departed, followed by the clergy. Alone at last, Sisilia said to Seraphina.
“Saintess, I'll step out to the restroom for a bit.”
“Ah, y-yes, of course.”
Seraphina sat primly on the bed, but a chill draft made her turn.
“!”
Sisilia had the window open and was leaping out. Seraphina panicked.
“L-Liannen folk go to the restroom out the window, huh.”
This country was definitely weird.
* * *
Late at night, the empress chatted with a silver cat that had sneaked into her bed.
“A mind-reader, huh? Impressive—both her ability and Sisilia-nyang figuring it out.”
“The trigger's probably physical contact. They're pushing it constantly.”
Lydia gazed at Sisilia with utter adoration.
‘This is why I can't get enough of Sisilia-nyang.’
No matter what mischief she caused, no matter how absurd she got—Sisilia was a knight whose strengths outweighed any flaws.
“How'd you figure it out?”
“She was flustered from the first meeting.”
“Mm… Most people are when they first see Sisilia…”
“She was flustered before I said anything. The saintess can definitely read minds.”
It started as a hunch. Confirmation came from the clergy's oddly positive reaction to handing over protection to a foreign knight.
‘Dumping a key figure's guard duty on a total outsider? Doesn't add up.’
There had to be an ulterior motive—and it likely centered on the saintess herself. If she had mind-reading powers, it fit perfectly.
“…And this is just a guess.”
“Go on.”
“The saintess is probably treated pretty harshly back home.”
No—Sisilia was half-convinced.
“…Related to her powers?”
“Likely.”
Humans once turned to gods in hard times, and the gods answered—that was divine power, the root of auras. But with the goddess's strength waning, even frontline Liannen felt it, and the Holy Nation worse.
They'd probably been losing divine power for ages. The biggest clue: that inquisitor earlier. She was well-trained—reliant on skill, not faith. An inquisitor should've been a zealot, but she was just a office worker.
In short, the Holy Nation recruited on loyalty, not faith—and even that seemed lukewarm.
“They must be scared. Of her reading their unbelieving hearts.”
Hence, isolating the saintess. Minimizing contact—physical barriers too. Her vestments were designed that way.
And most tellingly: during the handshake, Seraphina's wrists were scarred. Rope marks, chain imprints—bound so long her skin had discolored.
Sisilia seethed at the memory but reined it in.
“They went that far just to get info from us… Any guesses?”
“Obviously—to stop the evil witch-empress's world conquest.”
Lydia looked baffled, but after a moment's thought, conceded it was plausible and melted into a gooey smile.
“With a real Demon King out there, why me…?”
“You actually exist.”
“So does the Demon King.”
“But they've never seen it. To them, Demon King and goddess are much the same.”
“Hmm.”
Lydia sipped from her teacup.
“Well, no big deal then. I don't plan on conquering the world—send her back as is.”
She froze mid-sip, as if spotting poison. The tea leaves spelled out ‘Full of Complaints’.
Lydia stared blankly at Sisilia.
“…How the heck did you do that?”
“I,”
Sisilia's eyes sparkled.
“Strongly insist on annexing the saintess.”
“…The Holy Nation won't like that. Does my Sisilia-nyang want war…?”
Lydia smiled awkwardly while mentally calculating the minimal cost to annihilate them in a war. She shook it off, eyes serious.
“Sisilia. War with the Holy Nation risks world war. Win or lose, can you accept that horror?”
Beyond realism, Lydia wanted to teach her war's brutality. But Sisilia, from the 22nd century, knew it well—and that only overwhelming force deterred it.
“The Holy Nation makes a perfect example.”
Meaning: throw everything at them and wipe them out. A show of force to deter future wars.
Lydia smiled softly, stroking her.
“So spirited—I love it.”
“I'm always in top health.”
Boundless confidence, befitting Windsor Knights' vice-captain. But not an empress's call.
‘With Erterion, it's possible, but…’
Sisilia meant securing the saintess was worth some losses against demons later. But that hinged on her value. Mind-reading alone didn't justify war. Even if it did, caution was key—forced rescue might not yield cooperation.
Distance was an issue too. Dispatching the elite Windsor Knights amid the Demon King's storm was risky.
So.
“Confirm her powers, win her over, induce defection. No war. Handle the diplomacy too, Sisilia-nyang.”
“……?”
“Oh, and they'll nitpick the ‘saintess’ title on the surface—fix that too?”
Sisilia, buried in abusive workload, immediately pinned a rebel armband on her shoulder. Lydia, max-level Sisilia-tamer, didn't flinch.
“Eek, scary. Too bad—success meant I'd give you the saintess.”
“!”
Sisilia's loyalty to Lydia surged. She saluted briskly.
“Orders received: secretly annex the saintess.”
“…Do you have to say ‘annex’?”
Lydia was genuinely curious.