Chapter 23
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Midterm Exam (5)
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"What in the world is going on..."
The Saintess had invaded my inner world.
I was utterly flustered by this unprecedented situation, but I decided not to dwell on the question of how it was possible.
After all, she wasn't just anyone—she was the Saintess.
In a world where gods held absolute power, nothing she did seemed out of place for someone beloved by the divine.
So, my task was already clear.
Drive this woman out.
Better yet, make her lose interest in Roel.
Honestly, neither seemed easy.
"It's okay. I'll beg the Lord for forgiveness on your behalf. Your punishment, all of it... I'll..."
But then.
The Saintess I now faced head-on reacted completely differently from what I'd imagined.
Ortela suddenly grabbed my hand.
She wrapped both of hers around it tightly, pressing it to her forehead as if in prayer.
A damp sensation spread across my captured hand.
"You poor soul..."
Those were tears.
Wait a second.
She's... crying?
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, my apologies. Such unseemly behavior..."
Ortela pulled away in a hurry.
I roughly wiped the tears from my hand and stared at her silently.
"..."
What was I supposed to say?
I had things to say, but that scene had shocked me so much I'd forgotten them all.
In the end, unable to recall them, I just asked what was on my mind.
"Punishment?"
"Ah, you don't even realize your own plight. Oh Lord, what grave sin has this one committed..."
I'd posted some nasty comments, sure.
I mulled over words I hadn't voiced aloud as I waited for Ortela's next ones.
"I can see things others can't. The evil within a person, the sins they've committed, the karma they've reaped."
"And?"
"I've seen it all. About you, too."
Ortela's eyes filled with sorrow.
Her face looked ready to burst into tears at any moment, but this time she held them back.
"You're being forced to become 'evil.' Just to survive, you have to keep up this childish charade. Trapped here, always alone..."
She was sad, but also angry.
"No sin warrants a punishment like this. And yours isn't even that heavy. This isn't right. It's a fate that shouldn't exist."
Had anyone ever gotten mad on my behalf before?
At least not since I'd come here.
"Enough."
I stopped Ortela, who had been rambling on alone.
Of course, sympathy felt good, but this wasn't the time for it.
"Honestly, I didn't expect things to turn out like this. I thought you'd attack me."
I quietly released the sword I'd been gripping.
For a brief moment, a sharp clang echoed through the white space.
"Glad we don't have to fight. That's all I'm thinking right now."
"..."
"You called me a poor soul, right? Then do me one favor."
This was perfect.
Having the Saintess as an enemy would be a hundred times worse than revealing myself to her.
"No matter what happens from now on, don't talk about me."
"...Pardon?"
"To Roel or anyone else. What you've seen, my existence—keep it all secret."
Ortela was probably the only one who could detect malice like this.
If she kept quiet, there'd be no reason to turn the church against us anymore.
Ortela's eyes widened.
"B-but that's..."
"It shouldn't be hard, right?"
The reason I'd specifically included Roel.
I didn't want my precious protagonist feeling pity for me.
Because in the end, I had to become her enemy.
"...So you've decided to play this cruel role."
"That's right."
Ortela bowed her head.
"Your 'evil' is so meticulously crafted. It can never be real, but no one will see through the facade."
She reached out her hand.
A small, pale hand approached.
I hesitated a moment, then offered mine.
"Even so, you'll accept this fate?"
Ortela lifted her head, her face etched with deep concern.
As if it were some grand resolve, when it really wasn't.
"Not a lot of choices."
"I see..."
Ortela assumed a prayer pose again, like before.
"Please grant this one unbreakable strength, so they may never falter..."
Once the prayer ended, silence returned.
I awkwardly pretended to look around.
"Funny thing. Even this prayer will reach the god you speak of."
It probably wasn't her god who'd put me in this mess.
I didn't say it outright.
It would be blasphemy to a believer in the one true god.
"Sorry for the late apology. I barged in uninvited."
"Eh... It's fine. I got something out of it."
Ortela's body began to glow faintly.
She was about to leave.
"I'll remember you."
"Me?"
"Yes. So if it gets too hard to bear, come find me. I'll help however I can."
What a kind heart.
Saintesses weren't made just anyone.
"See you later."
With that farewell, I saw Ortela off.
Soon, she vanished.
I was alone again.
"...A-are you okay?"
Roel couldn't hide her fluster.
She'd been on guard after the cryptic words, but then the Saintess had suddenly collapsed with a thud?
The fainted Saintess on the sofa, and me just sitting there.
If that guard from earlier walked in...
"Wake up! Hurry!"
She was sick of these weird misunderstandings.
And the opponent was the Saintess—no telling if she'd be executed on the spot for funny business.
Roel shook the unconscious Saintess vigorously.
"...I-I'm fine now, you can stop shaking me."
"Ah, sorry."
The awakened Ortela rubbed her neck.
Roel wondered if she'd shaken too hard—then noticed something else.
"...Tears?"
"Ah..."
Ortela hastily wiped her eyes.
She gave an awkward smile, acting like it was nothing.
"I was shocked too. A demon too much even for me to exorcise. Must be the backlash."
"...Failed?"
"Yes, a truly dangerous demon."
Her brazen attitude deepened the suspicions, but Roel couldn't press further.
That expression looked far too sorrowful.
No.
Maybe it was wrong to try understanding the Saintess from the start.
She was no ordinary person.
"No immediate measures possible, so let's call it here for today."
Roel pondered briefly, then nodded.
If even the Saintess couldn't handle the Demon, maybe it was safe.
She decided to be grateful for getting past this moment.
"...See you next time."
Ortela left like that.
"Please forgive this deception..."
She seemed to mutter something, but her voice was too soft to catch.
Roel spaced out for a while before finally standing.
Her mind was still a mess, but with her match imminent, there was no time to sort it.
"What happened?"
—Not telling.
"Figured as much."
They arrived at the spectator seats.
Sera wasn't in her spot.
"Laila."
"Eek, Roel?"
"Where's Sera?"
Roel woke Laila, who was sprawled across Sera's seat too.
Laila snapped to and answered.
"Went to the waiting room. Probably her match next."
"Got it."
"...But why are you here? Thought you'd gone to the waiting room ages ago."
"Had some business. Time for me to head there now."
Laila yawned as she got up.
"Then hurry. That match looks about done."
Evan was in the arena.
His sword swings were precise, like calculated strikes.
He deflected every incoming spell from all directions.
Clear dominance.
Once those spells ended, he'd finish it quick.
"Uwaa... Big trouble. Be right back!"
Roel hurried off.
She barely made it to the waiting room on time—Sera was there.
"Where've you been?"
"Haha... Had some stuff to handle."
"You look deep in thought."
Sera stared straight at her.
"..."
For a moment, Roel was at a loss for words.
Sera's condition had improved a lot lately.
They could talk normally now, and she didn't flinch even standing close.
But eye contact had still been hard for her until recently.
Now...
"Thinking about something else?"
Not a trace of fear in that gaze.
Roel was inwardly thrilled but tensed up.
And realized.
This wasn't the time for other thoughts.
"No. Gotta focus."
"Good."
Sera exited the waiting room first.
Real sword in hand, heading to the arena—like in their last duel.
Roel stood too.
She gripped her real sword, the one she hadn't used last time.
"Demon, don't help this time."
A lot had changed.
Roel had grown stronger, and Sera had become a friend.
In this match, only one would taste defeat.
She left the waiting room.
Through the long corridor, onto the arena.
Referee: Professor Patrick.
Two Hero candidates facing off.
They each took five steps back simultaneously.
Patrick gave the signal.
"One."
She cleared away all unnecessary thoughts.
No doubts, no suspicions—none needed now.
"Two."
She assumed her stance.
Neither broke eye contact.
"Three."
Believe in the self she'd grown into.
She could win.
"Begin!"
The duel began.