I'd like you to die now.
I'd like you to die now.
"It's morning...."
I didn't get a wink of sleep all night.
I couldn't sleep even for a moment, worrying that Elisia, who held me in her arms, might go on a rampage again.
Even when I tried to at least slip out of this embrace, the moment I moved my body even slightly, the arms hugging my waist tightened, making it impossible.
In the end, I had to hold out until dawn broke by stroking Elisia's back and combing her silver-white hair.
Thanks to that, now that morning had come, my eyelids were as heavy as boulders.
Even in the midst of this, I had to work, so here I was, at my desk in the aide's office.
On the other hand, Elisia was completely fine, as if she had never had a seizure at all, actively disturbing me.
"Tea."
Lying on the sofa in the aide's office, Elisia held out her hand, demanding that I place a teacup into it.
"Drink it yourself. I am busy."
"I don't want to."
"Isn't it right in front of you?"
"I know."
"Your hands are perfectly fine, too."
"I'm tired."
I'm the one who's tired, so why the hell are you tired?
I stopped reading the documents, got up from my seat, and tried to hand her the teacup myself.
However, this troublesome spoiled brat Elisia didn't even think of sitting up and merely parted her lips slightly.
"Don't tell me you want me to feed you the tea?"
Seriously?
Elisia didn't even speak now and just took it for granted that she would be waited on.
Genuinely exhausted and finding everything a hassle, I obediently brought the teacup to her lips.
"Tsk. You're no fun."
After taking a sip of tea, Elisia set it back down on the table just like that.
She looked so nonchalant that it was hard to believe she was the same person who had cried and trembled last night.
'If only she were genuinely nonchalant.'
To be precise, she was just pretending to be nonchalant.
Since this morning, Elisia had not brought up a single word about last night to me.
And whenever I tried to open my mouth first, she forcefully shut me up.
It was an obvious expression of intent that she did not want to talk about it.
Because of that, I hadn't bothered to touch upon it yet.
Everyone has things they want to hide, after all.
I probably shouldn't ask until Elisia tells me herself.
Of course, that was my line of thinking from back when I played through the route in my original world.
'Here, I'm a mad dog. Who gives a shit.'
"Saint-nim."
"Yes?"
"Last night..."
Just as I was about to clearly ask what had happened, the sound of a knock came from the door.
Ttok, ttok.
"Aide Rhea-nim."
The voice of a nun was heard from outside the door.
"Archbishop Bertion-nim has visited the Saint's Palace. Shall I let him in?"
I immediately stopped my attempt to interrogate Elisia.
Because something far more important had just occurred.
Bertion.
There was no way I couldn't know that name.
Rather, he was a figure of such caliber that I wondered how on earth I hadn't thought of his name until now.
The person in charge of the Stigma Imprint Ritual in Saint Maker, the highest authority on divine power amplification research, and the archbishop who oversaw the education and examination of Saint candidates in the religious order.
Though he appeared as a benevolent old man in the game, he was the being most closely related to what happened last night.
And he was the bastard who dared to carve the stigma directly onto Elisia's body.
Thoughts like 'Why did he come right now?' didn't even cross my mind.
Because anyone could reach the conclusion that Bertion was the one who triggered the stigma's rampage.
I looked at Elisia, who must have heard Bertion's name.
Lying on the sofa, her expression hadn't changed at all.
Her blue eyes were half-closed as if annoyed, and her red lips held their usual displeasure.
However, it was distinctly different from usual.
The fingers touching her collar were clearly trembling.
To anyone looking, it was a symptom of revulsion.
"Shall I send him away?"
At my question, Elisia slowly looked at me.
"Why?"
"It is a visit without prior notice."
"He could come."
"You don't want to meet him, do you?"
At the blunt question, Elisia pushed herself up from the sofa.
As if pointlessly anxious, she gathered her hair with her hands and completely covered the nape of her neck.
"Saint-nim."
"What is it?"
"Do you really want to meet him?"
"Do as you please."
Her voice was still that of her arrogant, insolent self.
Yet the fingertips clutching her silver hair did not loosen in the slightest.
I wondered if it was okay to let her meet him like this, but if only for Elisia's sake, she had to face him someday.
I nodded to the nun waiting in front of the door.
"Show him to the reception room."
"Understood."
After the nun left, I helped Elisia, who was slumping limp like a cat refusing to go, to her feet and headed to the reception room.
As we entered the reception room, a white-haired old man rose from his seat.
Splendid liturgical vestments blending white and gold, and eyes curved downward benevolently.
In his hand was a staff symbolizing the authority of an archbishop.
Archbishop Bertion.
He looked not a single bit different from how he appeared in the game.
"I greet the Saint-nim."
Bertion shamelessly bowed deeply toward Elisia.
A stigma technician who visits the very next day after the stigma went on a rampage.
Isn't that a bit too blatant?
Even while casting such a gaze, I quietly stood behind Elisia.
Without even acknowledging his greeting, Elisia took the head seat.
"What business do you have without prior notice?"
"An urgent matter arose that required verification, so I have braved the discourtesy to visit."
"If you know it's discourteous, get lost."
This wasn't the usual Elisia.
She blatantly wants to send him away.
She wants to send him away, not kill him.
Yet Bertion maintained a benevolent smile even after being insulted.
"You are as full of vigor as ever."
"I told you to get lost."
"Those were words you often said to me during your childhood as well, Saint-nim."
Wearing an overtly mocking smile, Bertion continued.
"It puts my mind at ease to see that nothing has changed from back then."
"You've grown old, so your eyes must be ruined as well."
"The way you make such fierce eyes whenever you look at me remains unchanged too."
Bertion's gaze slowly drifted down from Elisia's face.
Toward her fair, slender neck.
And toward the stigma engraved on that neck.
I stepped forward beside Elisia, as if cutting in between the two of them.
"What is the matter that requires verification?"
"So you are the newly appointed aide."
"I am Rhea Valentia."
"The Saint-nim does not keep one person by her side for long, so this is quite interesting."
Bertion scanned me up and down.
It was not a gaze that merely looked at my face.
It was unpleasantly persistent, as if trying to ascertain what was contained inside my body.
However, soon seeming to lose interest after discovering nothing, he turned his gaze back to Elisia.
Meanwhile, I have plenty of interest in you, bastard.
"State the reason for your visit."
"Quite impatient, aren't you."
"I dislike people who waste Saint-nim's time."
Beside me, Elisia glared at me out of the corner of her eye.
Under normal circumstances, this was the timing where she would have snapped at me not to use her name as an excuse, but today she said nothing.
Instead, for some reason, she merely grabbed my wrist in an attempt to hold me back.
Because where she held my hand was under the table, it was out of Bertion's line of sight.
Slender fingers wrapped tightly around my skin.
Yet her fingers, which had always been warm, were now as cold as a sheet of ice.
"A massive wave of divine power, seemingly belonging to the Saint-nim, was detected."
Bertion said.
"Last night, it was to the extent that it could be felt all the way at my mansion."
As expected, last night's rampage was the reason that had already drawn Bertion here.
What more will this old geezer say, I wonder?
"There is a possibility that an anomaly has occurred with the stigma, so this old man has come to inspect it."
At those words, Elisia smirked.
Even if I didn't know, Elisia would certainly have anticipated whose fault it was.
Did Bertion step forward so shamelessly even while knowing that?
Yet why on earth did the supreme Saint fear the person presumed to be the cause so much, wishing only to drive him away?
Bertion picked up his staff and rose from his seat.
A staff fitted with a jewel that had been unpleasantly murky since earlier.
That's it.
The Sacred Artifact connected to Elisia's stigma.
Because it could only be seen after playing all the way through to the late game, I was a bit late in recognizing it.
For that Sacred Artifact to be that murky meant that something had gone wrong.
"I shall check it myself."
He approached Elisia's side.
Sitting in her chair, Elisia merely looked at him without moving.
Outwardly she wore her usual expression, but the strength in the hand grasping my wrist was gradually increasing.
Thanks to that, my bones creaked.
Enduring the pain, I stepped in front of Bertion, blocking his path.
"Halt."
"Aide."
"Saint-nim has not granted permission to approach."
"An issue might have arisen with Saint-nim's stigma. As the one who engraved it, it is only right that I inspect it."
"Let us ask Saint-nim. Whether she needs your help or not."
Saying that, I looked back at Elisia.
I'll kick him out for you, so just play along.
Elisia, still holding my hand with bone-crushing force, immediately grasped my intention and replied.
"Rhea."
"Yes."
"I don't like that old man coming close."
Elisia said coldly.
This is an order.
It was not something like a plea for help.
Although I always disobey orders, for some reason, this time I wanted to obey.
Give the order, quickly.
"Throw him out."
At that single word, Bertion's gaze changed.
He probably never expected Elisia to tell me to throw him out directly.
Just how ruthlessly did he terrorize young Elisia for him to react to an expulsion order like this?
Laughing inwardly, I firmly stepped between Elisia and Bertion.
"Did you hear that?"
"This is for the Saint-nim's sake."
"Saint-nim said she dislikes it."
"You know nothing about the stigma."
Know nothing my ass.
I'm just pretending not to know.
Except for how to carve it, I might actually know better than you do.
"At the very least, I know well enough that one should not trust a bastard who carves such scars onto a person's body."
Bertion's expression rotted.
Hearing such words from a mere aide must be utterly humiliating.
Too bad, though.
Elisia likes a young and pretty woman like me way more than an old geezer like you.
"You wretched wench...!"
"Please leave immediately. Didn't Saint-nim tell you to leave?"
Bertion stared at me for a while.
Beneath the mask of a benevolent old man, something squirmed.
Then, his face relaxed brightly, and he backed away obediently.
To an extent that was somewhat eerie.
"Interesting."
"I do not find it interesting at all."
"I shall withdraw for today. Seeing as I have already done what needed to be done."
"What would that be?"
"Is there any reason for me to inform you of that?"
"Then farewell. I shall see you out myself."
Bertion lifted his staff.
"However, the inspection of the stigma is an absolute necessity. Next time, I shall bring an official order bearing the seal of His Holiness the Pope."
He cast a final look at the nape of Elisia's neck before looking back at me.
The benevolent expression Bertion showed other Saints in the game was nowhere to be seen, replaced by that of a monster gazing upon an intriguing toy.
"I look forward to seeing if you can stop me then as well, Aide."
"Try it if you can."
I opened the door and smiled.
"That is, if that time can even come."
Bertion and I left the reception room, leaving Elisia behind.
Because there was something very important I had to do with this Bertion.
"Archbishop Bertion-nim."
"Insolent bitch. For what purpose did you call me?"
"I would appreciate it if you just died now."
"What?"
There's no reason for you to stay alive for Elisia's True Ending, is there?
Besides, who knows when you'll try to mess around with our Elisia's stigma again?