Before She Was the Saint
Hilde was packing her things in her room. Since she would be traveling by carriage starting tomorrow, all she needed was a few spare clothes and some basic supplies.
As she tightened the strap on her bag, a patch of callus on her palm caught her eye. It was hard to believe she had already been here for five years.
She had thought that even after reincarnating into this world, she might end up living carefree, eating well and doing as she pleased. Instead, the past five years had been the most intense of either of her lives. Even the churchfolk who had once looked at her as nothing more than a child no longer dared to treat Hilde lightly.
By every account so far, her body had been born with such extraordinary talent that one could almost say it was made to walk the path of a holy knight. If she had been looking at herself through the game’s status screen, she suspected her stats alone would have been the sort you only saw in the late stages of the game.
At this point, I might be on par with a fully cheated NPC companion.
Still, I can’t let my guard down. I have to be careful, always. There are way too many monsters in this world who make no sense at all.
This world wasn’t a game. There was no such thing as dying and starting over. If she happened to run into one of the high-ranking demons who had descended from the demon realm during her journey, she would have to risk her life and fight.
"Good morning, Hilde~."
Click. The door opened. The only person who would barge in without even knocking was one person. Irene, four years older than her, still had a mischievous streak in her.
"Your Holiness. Could you at least knock before coming in? This is my private space."
"Are we strangers? We’re always together, aren’t we? That stings a little~."
"Still, I’d appreciate it if you knocked. You know I startle easily."
"There’s no way our Hilde does~ The Pope himself wouldn’t believe that. That was kind of fun."
Hilde steadied herself before she got angry. They were always together, yes, but that was because Irene was her assigned escort, and she had plenty of complaints in her head. Still, whenever she tried to deal with Irene, the other woman always managed to drain her patience dry.
"So why did Your Holiness come to my room at this crack of dawn?"
Irene’s lips curled. Mischief sparkled on her cheeks.
"Our schedule got changed all of a sudden, that’s why. Looks like the nobles don’t trust our Hilde very much."
Idiots. Irene laughed softly, as if it were all absurd.
Honestly, the idea that a sixteen-year-old would be sent to the front as part of the Hero’s Party was ridiculous. Even playable characters started at twenty, and by the time players had leveled, built their stats, and collected decent gear, they were usually twenty-five before long.
Only then did they start grinding in the field and earning real feats. Compared to that, Hilde was far too young to go as a member of the Hero’s Party proper, or even as Irene’s personal escort. If anything, she looked far too unsuited to protect one of the most important people in the world.
Sixteen was the minimum legal age for marriage, but that rule existed because arranged engagements among nobles were better the earlier they were secured. Even knights and mages were usually still green boys and girls with no real field experience until they were twenty.
From the perspective of other nobles, Hilde was basically a brat who hadn’t even failed her exams yet, probably only a fifth-year academy student at best.
The Kingdom of Marinella.
It projected the influence of a hegemonic power over the smaller kingdoms around it, possessing strength no less impressive than an empire’s. It was a great nation that could stand toe-to-toe with the empire to the south, the true master of the continent, without being pushed back too far. The noble pillars that upheld Marinella had gathered in one place.
"Do you truly think a sacred duty to smite the impious is children’s play?"
"This is no different from saying the church sees humanity’s survival as a joke."
"Your Majesty, I beg you, please reconsider this decision!"
The day before Irene informed Hilde of the schedule change, the royal audience hall had been boiling over with complaints. Nobles who prided themselves on their refinement were openly challenging Declen Rasa Marinella, the ruler of Marinella.
Even at over fifty years old, King Declen Rasa Marinella kept his body so well trained that his physique remained powerfully muscular. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to smash those heads in immediately. But even the king found the church’s choice incomprehensible. A sixteen-year-old girl simply had no business going on such a journey.
A portion of the western continent had been occupied by demons and monsters. If humanity mobilized fully and launched a counteroffensive against the demons in the west, what would happen? The answer was simple: the demons on the continent would be annihilated.
But that wouldn’t solve the root problem.
About two hundred years ago, humanity had united once in recorded history and reclaimed the west as its own land. Countless human lives were lost, but no one doubted that a peaceful era would dawn at last.
And then calamity came. As if to replenish the monsters already there, massive numbers of gates opened in the west, and the region was quickly turned back into a hell where no one could live.
In the end, humanity realized it would have to defeat the Demon King in the demon realm itself. But they still had no way to open a passage there. The fallback plan that emerged was periodic cleansing operations carried out by Hero’s Parties.
They would keep the front lines stable with troops, and if a high-ranking demon appeared that ordinary soldiers couldn’t handle, they would assemble a subjugation force. And according to the latest reports, one of the Demon King’s closest subordinates—the Grim Reaper of Death—had appeared. If the Grim Reaper of Death wasn’t stopped, countless soldiers would lose their lives. That was why the Hero’s Party’s strength mattered so much.
The king said nothing as he turned his head and looked at an old man standing in the room.
Saint Grenolt Sermilt. The leading figure of the Central Church of Senium, and the Pope.
He kept a benevolent expression even while looking at the many people who clearly opposed him. His ability to remain serenely composed suited a pope who had served God all his life.
"So, brothers, you’re all saying you oppose our holy knight accompanying them?"
The Pope stroked his long white beard. His dignified, unruffled voice made the nobles flinch.
"That is correct. When there is a far better candidate already prepared, there is no reason to waste an opportunity like this."
Carius ban Ilate, the duke who acted as the nobles’ spokesman, met the Pope’s pressure without flinching. But the Pope only chuckled.
"Is that truly so? You’d best compare lengths only after they’ve been put side by side, wouldn’t you, brother?"
"Of course. If you look at the skill and accomplishments of Sir Ian, the captain of the kingdom’s First Knight Order, would he not be better suited to escort the Saint? No matter how gifted that young girl may be, she hasn’t even gone past the age of majority. If Your Holiness cannot agree, then how about a one-on-one duel?"
They laid out the secret card they had prepared in advance. They likely thought this reckless plan would let them expand the church’s influence. Objectively speaking, they must have assumed that by this point, the Pope would simply give in and step back.
Fuahahaha!
At the duke’s words, the Pope—who had been wearing a kindly expression—burst into loud laughter. He laughed like a child who had just heard the funniest thing in the world. A few minutes later, he stopped, and when everyone’s eyes turned to him, he returned to his usual serene expression.
"My apologies for laughing so loudly out of nowhere. Very well. Your Majesty, may I accept Brother Ilate’s proposal and proceed with the duel?"
The nobles were greatly taken aback. They had thought the Pope had finally gone senile. They had expected him to back down by now, but he refused to bend.
Sir Ian, the captain of the First Knight Order, led one of the strongest groups in the kingdom if one excluded the royal guard. He was highly skilled with aura, and the swordsmanship he had trained in since childhood was famed for its ferocity. He was not an opponent a mere sixteen-year-old girl could face.
The king, Declen Rasa Marinella, looked toward the Pope. The Pope’s expression remained as gentle as always. Was he really mad? The king agonized over it, but seeing that both sides wanted this outcome, he made his decision.
"I grant this matter. Since time is pressing, let us move quickly."
The nobles did not let the opportunity slip. If their faction’s knight captain joined the Hero’s Party, their political influence—and, on a personal level, their leverage over international affairs—would only grow. Already, they were indulging in pleasant fantasies of the power that would one day lie beneath their feet.
As he watched them continue discussing when and where the duel would be held, the Pope remained silent. Yet, unlike usual, the corner of his mouth lifted just slightly.
Heh, heh, heh! A pack of ignorant fools!
The Pope could already see their future.
Waaahhh!
Where am I? Who am I?
After eating breakfast, Hilde and Irene had left at once and arrived at the large colosseum in the capital. She had done nothing but rest for several days, yet somehow she felt like she wanted even more rest now.
"Hilde! Don’t you dare lose~~~"
Looking behind her, she saw Irene in the nearest seats, smiling brightly and waving as she cheered for Hilde. The articulated plate armor that clattered with every movement was the special PVP gear holy knights wore for one-on-one combat.
Sir Ian, the captain of the First Knight Order, looked at the girl standing on the stage and felt a pang of pity.
She looked even younger than his own daughter.
The fitted armor emphasized the girl’s curves in a way that made it seem less like battlefield equipment and more like ceremonial dress. In the course of his duties, he had seen countless nobles and princesses from other countries, yet even among them, she was beyond compare. Because she was so beautiful, the church had apparently gone so far as to make her their mascot.
Ian had no intention of opposing the church’s event or entering the Hero’s Party. Still, as this was an honorable position, the burden of responsibility already pressed heavily on his shoulders.
Following the referee’s guidance, Ian and Hilde faced each other from ten meters apart. As a rule, the one considered the weaker party was supposed to greet first.
"I am Hilde Sermilt, holy knight of the Central Church of Senium. I look forward to fighting with you."
"I am Ian Versilt, captain of the kingdom’s First Knight Order."
At the girl’s clear, youthful voice, Ian felt a bitter taste in his mouth. Ever since the day he became a knight, he had carried a knight’s resolve in his heart without the slightest doubt. But the reality before him now was that he had to fight over nothing more than the interests of the nobles.
Compared to the average woman, Hilde was a little taller than usual, but next to Ian, whose muscles and height easily exceeded two meters, she looked like a delicate maiden.
The years Ian had spent as a knight were more than twice as many as this girl had lived.
"Wouldn’t it be best if you surrendered now? I can prove that it would be no shame at all."
It was more than enough to take as insulting. Still, Ian meant it as his final mercy to the girl.
"I’m fine. Thank you for your consideration, Captain. But I won’t be backing down so easily."
"I see. Then let us begin."
The referee confirmed that both sides were ready. Then he raised the large pole bearing the flag and brought it down with all his strength. It was the signal to begin the duel.
Ian decided to give everything from the very start. It was the proper courtesy to show this girl. Dragging things out and fighting for a long time would be nothing more than the mockery of someone vastly superior in skill. Blue aura surged along Ian’s sword. It enveloped the blade completely, yet still radiated a wild, ferocious power.
Waaahhh!
The crowd, seeing aura for the first time, erupted in cheers. Aura was the symbol of strength they had only ever heard about.
Stories of knights sweeping through everything in their path, cutting down every obstacle before them, made people’s hearts race.
By contrast, Hilde merely held her sword with both hands, pointing it at Ian. Even the spectators who were thrilled by the aura were, at the same time, worried for the girl who now had to face the kingdom’s strongest knight.