Chapter 9

The Saintess of the planet Raviel — no, of the entire Mechanios Sector. Erina Lohengranz.

She was a reincarnator.

Born the daughter of a fallen noble house of the Imperium, abused by her own family, despised by every servant but one.

And on the very day she was to be sold off as the seventh concubine of some nameless old duke, she was caught in a terrorist bombing by the Imperium's rebel factions — and died.

On the day she died, she had actually thought it a mercy. At the very least, she'd been spared a life spent warming an old man's bed.

Then she opened her eyes once more to an unfamiliar ceiling, and the only sound her throat could make was a baby's wail. Reincarnation.

After her rebirth, she lived drunk on happiness almost too great for her. No mother — but a father, the highest noble in all Raviel, who lavished her with more than enough love to make up for it. The Mother Superior of the convent, whom she'd feared at first but grown to open her heart to. His Holiness the Pope, whose prayers were always for her happiness alone...

Her days were so sweet she was certain she must have died and come to heaven. She had even repelled a monstrous invading army ten billion strong that had come from beyond. A perfectly safe, perfectly happy life.

And, ironically, it was because she remembered her past life that she received every last bit of that happiness with gratitude. But one single deviation. One act of fate's mischief... and her life was suddenly hanging on the brink.

All she had done was board a lifeboat from an OOPArt-class vessel on its test run, meaning to take a quick look at Raviel's scenery... and the lifeboat itself had been swallowed whole by the monsters' bio-ship.

Fortunately, the lifeboat was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠absurdly sturdy and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did not break easily. But the thing that began to fail before the lifeboat did was somewhere else entirely. A lifeboat's food, oxygen, and water are finite. And no matter how tough the hull might be, there was no silencing the banging that never let up, not for a single moment — bam, bam, bam.

Saintess though she was, she offered up a prayer she had never once prayed in her life. She had suffered so much in her past life that she had never believed in God. The Imperium's god was the Emperor, and the Emperor alone. A human being could not be a god — and so she'd had no use for religion of any kind. That conviction had not changed after her rebirth, either. And yet here she was, praying — desperate enough to clutch at a straw.

'I am... not afraid to die.'

But the people of Raviel, who had loved her — she could not bear to watch them suffer for her sake.

'So that they will not grieve... please...'

And in that moment, the miracle granted to her when she was chosen as Saintess stirred and answered. The rescue beacon, long since broken, came back to life as if it had all been a lie. But the signal was pitifully faint. Far, far too weak to reach anyone on the ground below. When Erina realized it, she despaired all the more.

"Ah..."

Of course it was. God had never existed in the first place. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes.

And then—

Skreeeee! Krraaaagh!

Screams of monsters rang out from outside. Before long, the screaming died away.

What followed was a silence so complete it raised the hair on her arms.

Vreeeee—

In the next instant, a sword wreathed in blue light punched clean through the lifeboat's wall.

"...!"

She shrank back on instinct, scrambling into the corner of the lifeboat. The blade, glowing furious blue, carved through the hull.

Then the gauntleted fingers of a suit of power armor wedged into the gap—

Kriiiieeee—!!

With a hideous shriek of metal, the wall split apart.

Beyond it stood a giant clad in massive plate. She had never seen one before, but she knew what it was. The Winter Wolf Knights of the Amirates Sector. And above all, set into that knight's helmet was—

The priest of the Order who had told her this shuddered at the mere thought of it. Even after the Grand Duke's invasion had been successfully repelled, people spoke of him at every opportunity. Most of what they said was bad. Natural enough, from the side that had been invaded.

And now that man stood right before her eyes. The man who had tried to abduct her to make her his wife... no. His broodmare. Past life or present, hers had been a life estranged from men and romance alike — but she knew all too well how wretched a broodmare's fate could be.

...She swept her eyes over the lifeboat's interior, purely on reflex. There — a flare pistol. She threw herself toward it—

"Do not."

A voice poured out, warped into something grotesque, like a demon from hell. And yet the speech itself was every bit as courteous as any of Raviel's people.

Then, the very next moment, the Grand Duke removed his helmet. He looked nothing like the rumors. They said he was a pig with greed caked layer upon layer across his face. They said his eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lewdly gleamed at the sight of any woman — a walking lump of lust...

But he was nothing like those rumors. He was a different breed from the pretty boys people fawned over — and yet, had he not been the commander of an enemy nation, she might well have found him genuinely attractive. And in his eyes there was something other than lust.

Something that suggested he wasn't looking at her as a person at all — and, naturally, not as an object of desire either — a gaze she had never once seen, in her past life or this one.

If she strained to interpret what kind of gaze it was... it was the look of someone watching a character in a novel.

While she stood there flustered, the Grand Duke slowly sank to one knee and extended his hand to her.

"Let us go, Saintess."

"...?"

"I will take you home."

The Saintess Erina Lohengranz. She was the most precious treasure in all Raviel — no, in the entire Mechanios Sector. And having her in my grasp meant... that right now, a negotiation card of tremendous value had landed in my hands.

Also — she was pretty. Disgustingly, unfairly pretty.

Hair black as polished ebony. Devilish violet eyes that seemed ready to pull you in and swallow you whole. ...I could suddenly understand why the male leads of romance fantasy had lost their minds over her. Add to that a faintly radiating aura of holiness — and, in perfect opposition, a figure violent enough to drag any man straight into temptation.

Not that I had any intention, I swore to heaven, of doing anything to her. Charm aside, if I touched her, I wouldn't lose seven billion — I'd lose every civilian and every last knight of the Order. And I'd probably die somewhere in the process too, wouldn't I?

Anyway. That was why I'd told her I'd send her home. Living well and prospering here, letting history flow exactly as the original story dictated — that was her reason for existing.

And if I returned her, I could begin rebuilding friendly relations between the Imperium and Mechanios. That, in turn, would let me dodge the imperial court's censure. Thanks to Vera staying behind a while longer, I'd be able to pass along the good news quickly. What would remain then was only internal politics and external threats. It wouldn't be easy, of course — but I had no desire to be kept in check by the imperial court, let alone the overtechnology armies of the neighboring sector.

And just as I was helping her out of the lifeboat—

"Grand Duke! Your orders have been faithfully carried out, milord!"

Knights armored head to toe in Krig bodily fluids — though when they'd arrived, I couldn't say — dropped as one to their knees before the lifeboat. And the most senior among them, Captain Avros, carefully extended a single wriggling larva.

"This is none other than the main body of the Hive Mind, milord! We entrust to Your Grace the honor of taking this monster's life!"

I took the larva carefully in hand. It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was large enough to fill a power armor gauntlet. The knights watched my hand with expectant eyes. I remembered this much — it was a custom. The custom of offering victory up to one's lord. But there was supposed to be one more part... what was it again?

Then Captain Avros bowed his head and added one more thing.

"Grand Duke. Begging your pardon, milord... but it would be even better, we believe, if the Saintess herself were to destroy it."

"...?"

For a moment I wondered what he was playing at. And then—

"Me...?"

A clear voice drifted over from behind me.

"Yes, milord! That shall put the true seal upon Your Grace's victory!"

In the moment before even I understood what he meant—

"...All right. I've been wanting to, anyway."

She plucked the larva out of my hand, wham! flung it to the floor, and—

Crunch! Crunch!

—stomped it to shreds with every ounce of force her stiletto heels could deliver. ...Even in that restrictive dress, there was something deeply unsettling about her stomping form.

"Whew."

She wiped the sweat from her brow with a refreshed air and flashed a bright smile.

"I feel a little better now. Thank you."

"...Yes. Well, then—"

KR-R-RUMBLE—!

In that instant, with a roar, the bio-ship's interior began to tilt. The Hive Mind had died, and with it the bio-ship was losing control of its own colossal body. For all intents and purposes, it was dead. I caught her reflexively as she stumbled.

"Are you all right?"

"...Yes."

She flushed red and pushed me gently away. ...Yeah, she was still uncomfortable around me. The sooner I got her home, the better.

Meanwhile, the surviving Krig had begun tearing into one another. It had never been a safe place to begin with, but now it was pandemonium incarnate.

"We're getting out! All hands, to the ship, now!"

"Yes, sir!"

I ran at the very rear, matching Erina's pace. But our escape was bogging down badly.

"Begging your pardon."

"Yes? ...Kyaa!"

In one motion I scooped her up and heaved her over my shoulder. This was, quite literally, the picture of a bride being carried off...

Just then, my eyes met Captain Avros's as he ran hard beside us.

Nod. He dipped his head, helmet and all. What was that supposed to mean...?

After setting her down with all due courtesy, I attempted to raise Raviel on comms. Enemy state or not, I judged they wouldn't open fire on a ship carrying their Saintess. Fortunately, the judgment proved correct. The planet's highest-ranking noble: Logan Lohengranz. Simultaneously, the father of Saintess Erina. Over the comm link, his hologram was impossibly calm for a man who had come within a hair of losing his daughter.

"You have... rescued my daughter."

"Yes, Count Lohengranz. She was in danger of dying at the Krig's hands. Fortunately, we arrived before it was too late."

"We are... most grateful... for that."

His words caught, ever so slightly, at moments. I wondered if it was a comm fault, but the video quality was fine. The one guess that came to mind: he was strangling his own emotions down. I was, after all, the invader who had come for his territory.

That said — that was that, and business was business. What was owed to me, I intended to collect. Honestly, I'd prepared terms that wouldn't be a burden for their side either.

"I don't want much. We didn't come here seeking anything in the first place — we came for reconciliation and apology."

"Reconciliation... you say."

In that instant, contempt flashed across Count Lohengranz's face. It was gone so quickly that, had I not possessed a superhuman's vision, I would never have caught it at all.

Yeah. Something told me this negotiation wasn't going to go smoothly. Still, I said my piece.

"The Saintess is one of yours by rights, so of course we intend to return her. But if you would permit it, there is one thing I must ask."

"Speak."

What I asked for was a single thing: that Mechanios not sever diplomatic ties with the Imperium. From their standpoint, there was nothing to lose in it either.

"So it shall be. Return the child to us, and we shall forget the past invasion entirely."

"...And I must ask you to promise not to attack us on our way home."

"I so swear upon the name of Her Imperial Majesty the Emperor."

"...Thank you. Then, farewell."

With that, we cut the transmission. And the knights immediately began to wail.

"You bow that low, after coming all this way?!"

"Handing the Saintess back, now of all times! W-we thought Your Grace had planned it all to this very end—"

How the hell would anyone plan that? I'm not Zhuge Liang.

But—

"Captain. Bring the bow about."

"Yes...? W-were we not docking?"

"No."

That conversation had settled it. The moment we docked. The moment we handed Erina over — we would die.

It didn't take the crisis sense prickling up my spine, sharper than it had ever been, to tell me that. He had sworn, in no uncertain terms, upon the Emperor's name. And this sector lay outside the Imperium's reach.

In other words, the son of a bitch had crossed his fingers behind his back and pulled a great big just kidding. Mechanios, after all, was a place that regarded the Emperor not as a god — it didn't even regard her as human.

"Um... e-excuse me...?"

And behind me stood a beautiful woman, eyes gone round as saucers. The Saintess, Erina.

"W-weren't you... taking me home...?"