The Hero and the Saintess (1)
"So, you're that legendary mercenary?"
"Yeah. That's me."
From the very beginning, Aryen had despised the Hero. Perhaps the Hero had felt the same way when he first recruited him. Both of them were well aware of it. The Hero was insufferably arrogant, and Aryen could not tolerate his dogmatic tyranny.
Their conflict, which had been simmering on the verge of an explosion, finally ruptured completely after they defeated the Third Calamity and returned triumphantly to the Royal Capital.
"Aryen, leave the party."
"What?"
"I've thought about it during our last expedition. It's for the best that you leave. I've decided this party can run perfectly fine without you."
For the best.
It was an arrogant voice. No, if it had been purely arrogant, Aryen might not have been this angry. But the Hero's voice as he glared at Aryen held a trace of anxiety. Those dull teal eyes wavered.
As usual, the Hero's office was dark, the lights extinguished. Aryen let out a hollow laugh.
"For the best, is it? Fine, let's hear your reason."
Had the bastard lost his mind after defeating the Third Calamity? Just because he had dealt the final blow, did he honestly believe he had taken down that monster all on his own? Aryen stared back into the Hero's eyes, which gleamed like those of a wild beast.
"You're too reckless. It's not just that you refuse to follow my orders; do you not realize the entire party is on the verge of fracturing because of you?"
"Seriously, how can you be this insufferable from beginning to end?" Aryen spoke, each word dripping with rage.
The bastard of a Hero, apparently having some pride left, ground his teeth, his facial muscles contorting in anger.
"That's my line. How is it that you haven't followed my orders a single time from start to finish?"
"If you had the competence to command, I would have followed them. You useless bastard."
"And who are you to judge whether I have that competence?"
Crack.
The floor beneath Aryen's feet fractured. As a torrent of uncontrollable mana flared up, the Hero also raised his own mana to counter it. At first, their momentums seemed equal, but soon, Aryen's mana grew overwhelmingly powerful, as if to swallow the Hero's whole.
"You have eyes but refuse to see. You're no different from a blind man."
"Then you, who have ears but refuse to listen, must be deaf."
The tension in the room swelled to the bursting point. Aryen, veins bulging in his neck, was about to argue further, but stopped himself. He realized there was absolutely no reason to cling to this. He never had a sense of duty to begin with. He didn't hold much affection for this world anyway.
And more than anything, he hated the thought of dragging himself around the world with this dog of a bastard.
"Fine. Good luck with that."
Aryen drawled out the word "good" as he turned around. Wasting any more breath on him felt like a waste of time. The Hero was the one kicking him out, so that bastard would have to bear all the responsibility alone. Aryen had done nothing wrong.
Aryen grabbed the doorknob and looked back at the Hero. He wondered how long those arrogant eyes would last once he was gone.
"I don't know how much longer your little Hero act will last, but..."
Aryen opened the door and paused. Leaving everything behind like this, there was still one lingering concern.
Isis.
The Saintess who, alongside him, had rebelled against this clueless, flower-brained Hero. And a comrade-in-arms who had suffered through even worse hardships with him.
Isis.
Aryen gritted his teeth again as he pictured her eyes and her smile. It weighed on his mind to leave her behind, but to keep her out of trouble, it was better for him to slip away without a word.
"At the very least, don't be a burden to the rest of the party."
Slam.
Aryen packed his bags, left a single note behind, and boarded a night carriage. No matter what, he wanted to get out of the Royal Capital first. He wanted to leave this country that had dragged him away from his free mercenary life just to clean up after this mouse-haired Hero.
"Well, I won't be able to work as a mercenary for a while."
Inside the rattling carriage, Aryen's eyes shifted. At the edge of the starlit night sky, the faint lights of the Royal Capital flickered. Aryen glared at the city with hatred before closing his eyes.
"Maybe I'll try being an adventurer for a bit."
He pushed the image of Isis's face to the back of his mind. He had left a note, so she would eventually find out what had happened.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Isis was the first member of the Hero's party. Even before Elroy was chosen by the Holy Sword and given the title of Hero, Isis was already performing her duties as a Saintess.
She knew nothing of destructive magic or swordsmanship. The only reason she could become a Saintess was her mana, which possessed the rare attribute of healing.
"Ah... Saintess! Thank you... Thank you!"
"I thought I'd have to live the rest of my life with one arm... Thank you..."
Whether bones were shattered, stomachs punctured with spilling entrails, limbs severed, or eyeballs gouged out—as long as the head wasn't cut off, Isis's mana could heal it.
As soon as the Holy Kingdom discovered Isis's talent, they made her the face of the Church and gave her the embarrassing title of "Saintess." Though the title made her blush, Isis took great pride in her duty.
"...We are going to defeat a Calamity?"
The squinty-eyed bishop, who always wore a benevolent smile, nodded.
"It is a decision made during the recent summit between the Kairos Kingdom and the Holy Kingdom. A person chosen by a sacred relic has appeared. The people of the kingdom are already calling him the Hero."
At the word "Hero," Isis's blue eyes widened. Seeing her reaction, the bishop let out a soft chuckle. The dim candlelight faintly illuminated his smile. The bishop turned his head toward the relief on the wall where his shadow flickered and sighed softly.
"It was something the Holy Kingdom... specifically, our Orthodox Church, had to do eventually. It is a welcome development that the Kairos Kingdom, which possesses the Holy Sword, made the proposal first. For this task, the Holy Kingdom will recommend you, Isis, to assist the Hero. And it would be best if you volunteered to be the very first to join the party."
She had always lived for her duty, so this was nothing unusual. Isis nodded confidently. When it came to a sense of mission and justice, she was confident she wouldn't lose to anyone—even if that person was the Hero chosen by the Holy Sword.
"Then, will it just be the Hero and me?"
"That would be impossible. The Kairos Kingdom will mobilize all its resources to support this expedition. With such a noble cause, other nations will surely roll up their sleeves to help."
The bishop spoke reassuringly, but Isis couldn't help but worry about the support from other nations. She doubted they would truly understand the weight of this expedition and provide proper aid.
But once the party was formed, who could have guessed that the Hero himself would be the biggest problem?
"I will take the lead here."
"No, fall back. I will step forward."
The Hero was dogmatic and reckless. He didn't listen to a word his party members said, and whenever trouble arose, he would immediately draw his prized Holy Sword and charge. He was so impatient that he often threw himself at monsters without thinking, putting the entire party in danger more times than she could count.
"Don't interfere."
The Hero wasn't weak. But he was weaker than the mercenary who joined them mid-journey. The worst part was that the Hero developed an inferiority complex and resentment toward the mercenary.
The Hero party's first journey—the path to defeating the Third Calamity—could be summarized as a battle of pride between the Hero and the mercenary. The only difference was that the Hero merely flaunted his pride, while the mercenary had no need to flaunt his.
It was only natural that the Saintess came to rely on the mercenary more than the Hero.
Why did such an inadequate person become the Hero? Wouldn't the journey have been much easier without him? Along with these thoughts, her resentment toward the Hero grew.
To make matters worse, the Hero, completely lacking in self-awareness, openly made it obvious that he liked Isis. Frankly, this was one of the hardest things to endure.
Let's bear it. As long as Aryen is here, I can get through this.
And just a few days after they defeated the Third Calamity, Isis heard a shocking piece of news from Georg.
"He kicked him out? Aryen?"
Without a second thought, Isis rushed to the Hero's hideout, with Georg hurriedly following behind her. She threw open the door and poured out her grievances at the Hero. No, they weren't just grievances; they were the harsh reality of this Hero party.
The Hero, who had been listening to Isis's words while pretending to be calm, eventually wore a blank, dazed expression.
"Fine. If you're just going to stand there like an idiot without offering a single explanation, then I'm leaving this damn party too. Searching for Aryen would be a much better use of my time than staying with you."
Isis resolved to leave and find Aryen. The Holy Sword was merely a secondary factor. If they were to continue their journey to save the world, it would be far better to convince Aryen to travel with her than to stick by this pathetic Hero.
"Who said you could leave this party?"
Even at this moment, the Hero seemed to mistakenly believe he held all the cards. Isis spat her words right into his foolish face.
"Ha! Whose permission? Mine, of course. You have no power to bind me. You know that perfectly well."
"Wait—"
"Save it. I don't want to hear another word. Unless you want to cause friction with the Holy Kingdom, don't try to stop me, and don't follow me."
Isis knew that the Holy Kingdom would ultimately take her side. And she could clearly see the path the Hero party would tread after banishing Aryen. The Kairos Kingdom would also support her rather than the Hero, as the kingdom's key figures didn't seem particularly fond of him either.
With those thoughts, Isis left the Royal Capital.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Two weeks passed.
Now, Isis looked less like a Saintess and more like an ordinary female adventurer. Wearing a cloak to avoid drawing attention, Isis sat in a tavern in a remote village, her blue eyes gleaming.
"...Wait for me. I'll find you soon."
In Isis's hand was the note Aryen had left behind.
I'm leaving. I can't stand that arrogant bastard of a Hero for another second. Our conflict has reached its limit, and I refuse to follow his incompetent commands anymore. I'm planning to head out of the Royal Capital and work as an adventurer for a while.
Don't look for me, but if you must... I'll be heading towards the frontier.
— Aryen
Isis folded the note carefully, slipped it into her pocket, and let out a deep sigh.
"Oh, so you've come from the Royal Capital, sir?"
Just then, Isis overheard a conversation between the tavern keeper and a customer. At the mention of the "Royal Capital," Isis perked up her ears to listen.
"Yeah. I'm not an adventurer, just arrived today on a temporary dispatch mission."
"Any interesting news from the capital lately? Is the Hero's party still doing well?"
The Hero's party. Isis's blue eyes darkened. She didn't particularly want to know, but it was information she needed to keep track of.
The customer glanced around before lowering his voice.
"Word is the makeup of the Hero's party has changed drastically. Apparently, the Saintess and the mercenary both left."
"Really? Why on earth would they..."
The customer put a finger to his lips, gesturing for the tavern keeper to quiet down.
"Shh. Keep this to yourself. You know what to do for sharing this, right? I only know because I work near the palace. It's not something you just blabber about to anyone."
"Of course, of course. Order whatever you want on the house. Just tell me the rest."
Hearing the customer's next words, Isis couldn't help but let out a hollow chuckle.
"Besides that, it seems the Hero's party is facing all sorts of scrutiny right now. I heard the royal palace is actually holding a hearing because of it."