Oh No, The Saintess Has Gone Menhera
Oh no. The Saintess was going full menhera. Three seniors from the Art Department stood before me, a blazing sense of justice burning hot in their hearts. 'How dare a thug like him set foot in the sacred Art Department!'
Even if it was a department with no freshmen and a building that leaked when it rained, the Art Department had its own deep-rooted traditions. Those traditions were a rigid hierarchy and mercilessly exploiting your juniors. There was a whole mountain of chores waiting—from fetching water to running errands for paint, cleaning brushes, buying paper, wiping ink, and even tidying up the dorm rooms. But this freshman named Ian Ashy gave them zero openings to exploit him. No, it wasn't even that he didn't give them openings; he was straight-up treating the seniors like they were invisible.
"Today we will absolutely crush that arrogant freshman's spirit!"
"Uwoooooh!"
Students belonging to the Art Department were usually far removed from magic or swordsmanship. Most of them had completely clogged mana circuits or lacked the arm strength to even hold a sword, so they'd fled to the arts instead. But even a rotten fish is still a fish. Anyone who could enroll in the Imperial Academy had received systematic training from their family. The three now surrounding me were the so-called elite trio who had, within the Art Department, somehow scraped together the most combat ability by learning basic swordsmanship from territorial knights or picking up rudimentary mana manipulation.
'That Dushik guy really is too soft-hearted for his species stats.'
After watching Dushik flounder helplessly against a single first-year despite his demon horns, they had decided to show him how it was done themselves.
"Ian Ashy! Prepare yourself!"
The three seniors charged toward me with valiant battle cries. That's when it happened.
"Haah, they're seriously being a pain in the ass."
I was standing with my weight on one leg when I lightly kicked at the dirt on the ground. As the dust scattered with a poof, I reached out my hand. Blue water-attribute mana clung to my fingertips.
In my head, I'd run the calculations thoroughly. 'If I pull out the black mana, these guys might actually explode for real.' They were Art Department seniors. How frail could they be? I scattered the water-attribute mana gathered at my fingertips toward the dust cloud I'd just kicked up. My plan was to turn it into something like mud and splatter their clothes with it. Nobles were weak to filth, after all.
But.
"...Huh?"
A dumbfounded sound slipped from my mouth. The moment the water-attribute mana scattered through the air touched the dust, something completely different from what I'd intended happened.
The water-attribute mana began sucking in the surrounding dirt like a powerful magnet, instantly clumping together into a fist-sized ball of mud. Then—
Whoosh!
That heavy lump of mud shot forward like a cannonball, smashing straight into the solar plexus of the senior running at the front.
"Guhk!"
With a short scream, the lead senior's body flew through the air and slammed into the ground.
"?"
"?"
The two following behind froze on the spot. A first-year Art Department student who could freely use magic of this caliber without even an incantation? This was basically combat magic, wasn't it?!
"Y-you! How dare you use combat magic in a sacred duel!"
Even as they shouted, the pair cursed Dushik inwardly. Why didn't you stop us more aggressively, you idiot!
Of course, the person most shocked by this phenomenon was me.
'What the hell? It could do something like this?'
Completely unintended magic. So this was why using magic without basic knowledge was dangerous.
But.
'Well, it's an opportunity.'
A third-rate villain had to be an opportunist. I flashed a sly smile.
"That was me going easy on you."
"Wh-what?!"
"Want to try again? Then this time I'll really turn you into mincemeat."
Blue water-attribute mana gathered at my fingertips once more. The two seniors' faces turned deathly pale.
"W-we were wrong! We made a huge mistake in our thinking!"
"Ian Ashy! We'll forget about what happened today... No, please forget it!"
Each of them grabbed one arm of their fallen comrade and bolted from the clearing without looking back. The academy's track team couldn't have been faster.
"Whew."
I let out a sigh and was about to relax when I heard a rustle. A cautious presence came from around the corner of the building.
"Who is it?"
Arina Saint was standing there. She gripped a thick, sturdy wooden stick she'd picked up from somewhere with both hands like a baseball bat, trembling violently.
I blinked, utterly dumbfounded.
"Does even the Saintess want to have a go at me?"
At my words, Arina jumped in surprise, flung the stick away, and waved both hands frantically.
"N-no, absolutely not!"
"So those senior guys were plotting this from the classroom the whole time?"
At my question, Arina kept blinking her eyes—which had grown as round as a rabbit's—and nodded her head vigorously.
"And the Saintess was planning to use that stick to..."
"I-I was trying to help! Truly!"
Tears welled up in Arina's eyes. She must have felt terribly wronged. I waved my hand to show I understood.
"I see. Thank you, Saintess."
"R-really?"
"Yes, yes."
As I answered, I glanced down at the thick stick rolling on the ground. The image of this woman casually swinging a massive mace during practice flashed through my mind. If she'd actually cracked those seniors over the back of the head with that thing, I might have ended up as the sole witness to a murder and been dragged off by the academy knights.
"Just please don't carry wooden sticks around next time."
"W-why not?"
"It feels like I'll end up in trouble somehow."
Anyway, avoiding anything that could drag me into a tiring mess was the smart move. Besides, the other party was walking death flag number one. Wasn't she the fiancée of the tyrant crown prince?
"Well then, I have another schedule to attend to, so I'll be going."
I gave a light bow and quickly turned to make my escape.
But.
Grab.
"U-um!"
When I looked down, long, delicate fingers were clutching the cuff of my uniform sleeve.
What? This Saintess? When did she get so assertive?
"Did you have something to say?"
When I asked, letting a hint of trouble show on my face, Arina hung her head deeply and mumbled in a voice as quiet as a mosquito.
"I... I have a consultation I would like to request..."
"A consultation?"
"Yes. On the day of the disaster... I was beside His Highness the Crown Prince, and His Highness was... how should I put it... giving off a very anxious and dangerous aura..."
Instantly, a sharp warning siren blared inside my head.
The Saintess menhera has exploded! Our fragile female lead Saintess was a menhera. It was only natural, since the process of becoming a saintess was basically gaslighting. The priests and the pope had tormented one young girl into becoming the Saintess, after all.
The problem was.
'Once this girl's menhera kicks in, she completely retreats into her cave.'
Our Saintess was an avoidant-type female lead. That wouldn't do. The emotional connection with the crown prince was just starting to form. If she avoided it here, it'd be a disaster.
I hardened my expression into something gentle and serious, then spoke in the tone of a worldly-wise priest.
"Do not worry, Saintess."
"Yes...?"
"No matter what darkness or anxiety lies within His Highness the Crown Prince, if it is you, Saintess, you will surely be able to guide him onto the right path."
I poured as much strength as I could into the words, giving her the most encouraging speech possible to boost the original female lead's self-esteem. It carried my desperate wish that she would stop coming to me for romance counseling and instead go burn passionately with the crown prince to advance the story.
But after hearing my encouragement, Arina's eyes trembled delicately.
"M-me? But I, I, I... In the church, I am merely a shell of a saintess with no talent, simply occupying a position..."
Her voice grew smaller and smaller. Tears welled up in her eyes once more.
Just how much of a menhera was this girl?
I firmly grasped the Saintess by her shoulders.
"Saintess."
"Y-yeees?"
"You are a far stronger and more wonderful person than you believe. So do not doubt yourself. Before long, you will shine brighter than anyone else in this empire."
Because the original story had decided it that way. If the female lead didn't shine, what were we supposed to do?
"So believe in yourself. Now I really am busy, so I'll take my leave."
"Eh?"
The Saintess stared blankly. I took that chance to quickly pull my sleeve free and escape the clearing.
That was close.
Arina Saint stood blankly in the empty clearing where Ian Ashy had disappeared, staring in the direction he had gone.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst from her chest.
"Brighter... than anyone else..."
Arina clasped her hands tightly and pressed them to her chest. Her face burned and heat rose to her ears.
The Saintess had always been quick to read the room. Having spent her entire life suppressing her emotions and watching others' moods, her intuition for detecting truth or falsehood in people's words was abnormally well-developed.
And in the words Ian had left behind, there wasn't the slightest trace of mockery or empty comfort. It was a firm, resolute acknowledgment of her worth, spoken as calmly as if stating the truths of the world.
'This is the first time anyone has believed in me—believed in my very existence—so completely.'
The priests of the Holy See had always hounded her, telling her she was 'lacking' and that she 'needed to kill her emotions even more.' But Ian Ashy was different. The person who could write such magnificent stories had declared to insignificant her that she could shine dazzlingly.
'If it's as Student Ian said... perhaps I can do it too.'
That terrible anxiety and flickering madness of His Highness the Crown Prince. Strange courage welled up from deep in her chest—the courage to embrace it with her divine power and calm it without running away.
A bright, lively smile that had been gone for so long spread across Arina's lips.
Just as she turned to leave, her heart full of overwhelming emotion—
"...Huh?"
Arina's steps came to an abrupt halt. Her purple eyes shook with bewilderment.
"Ah! Over there, Student Ian...!"
Arina hurried toward the path Ian had taken, but his black hair had already vanished completely into the academy crowd.
"Aah..."
Arina's ears drooped. Deep disappointment and gloom settled over the face that had been filled with courage only moments before.
"I should have asked... who he was going to the debutante ball with..."