The Eve of the Entrance Ceremony (1)
A fresh wind was blowing through the Imperial Academy.
First came the news that a Hero chosen by the sacred Holy Sword had appeared in the Empire. Soon after, rumors spread like wildfire that this very chosen warrior would be enrolling at none other than Arhen Academy.
When those rumors were officially confirmed as fact, it was only natural for the students to be swept up in a frenzy of anticipation and excitement. To share an era with a Hero—a figure who might appear only once in a century, if at all—was an immense honor in its own right.
Yet, had that been all, the Empire would hardly have been stirred to such heights. There was another rumor stirring the Academy into a fever pitch:
A Saintess had arrived from the Holy Kingdom of Varkan to enroll as well.
Blessed with the greatest divine power and talent in recorded history, she was revered by the battle-hardened souls of the northern Demonic Realm as practically a living deity. Catching a mere glimpse of either the Hero or the Saintess in one's lifetime was a rare blessing. Having both of them enter the Imperial Academy in the very same year was unprecedented in the entire history of the Empire.
On top of that, the Emperor's children were either currently attending or due to matriculate soon. The entire populace buzzed with excitement, whispering that a grand new era was truly at hand.
“Extra! Extra! Read all about it!”
A freckled boy shouted at the passing crowd, brandishing a fresh paper from a bag bursting at the seams. But with countless discarded broadsheets already littering the cobblestones, not a soul paused to heed his cries.
“Get lost, brat.”
“Whoa—!”
People scowled at the lad as he blocked their path, thrusting papers into their faces; some even spat and shoved hard past him.
“Urgh... ahh...”
Jarred roughly by a heavy shoulder, the boy lost his balance and crashed headlong to the ground.
“O-Oh no...!”
Papers scattered in every direction. Terrified that he might ruin the precious job he had begged so desperately to secure, the boy ignored the sharp throbbing in his scraped knee and scrambled desperately to gather them up.
It was then.
A quiet rustle stirred the air.
“Huh...?”
A shadow fell over him, followed by the appearance of a slender, pristine white hand that gently gathered up the scattered sheets. Wide-eyed and dazed, the boy traced the cascade of shimmering platinum-blonde hair as he lifted his gaze.
Standing before him in immaculate vestments was a girl of breathtaking beauty. Her eyes were closed, and a gentle, benevolent smile graced her lips as she extended the papers toward him.
“[Are you unhurt?]”
Her lips had not moved in the slightest, yet the voice flowed straight into his mind like a warm, soothing stream. Belatedly realizing her words were addressed directly to him, the boy nodded dumbly.
He tried to scramble to his feet to offer his thanks, but the nasty tumble across rough cobblestones had left his leg searing with pain. As a grimace twisted his features, the maiden seemed to perceive his injury instantly. With a soft, compassionate smile, she laid her hand over his knee.
A gentle warmth washed over him, seeping into his skin, and the boy froze in utter disbelief at what followed.
“M-My scrape...”
Though his trousers remained torn from the rough tumble, the raw flesh that had been trickling blood only moments before was completely healed, smooth and unblemished.
“[Take greater care henceforth.]”
The boy looked up in bewilderment, but she had already drifted past him into the crowd.
“The Saintess...” Gazing blankly at the path she had taken, he murmured under his breath. “It's the Saintess...! It had to be her...!!”
Could today possibly be the greatest day of his entire life?
Staring down at his torn knee, the boy grinned from ear to ear. Letting out a triumphant whoop of sheer delight, he threw himself into hawking his newspapers with renewed fervor.
Every single copy was sold before sunset.
Several years had passed since I was chosen as the Saintess.
Literally, several whole years.
Ever since taking up the mantle, my days had been an endless blur of relentless activity. Since I had only just become the Saintess back then, an insurmountable mountain of clerical studies and decorum awaited me, not to mention the minor detail of announcing my existence to the entire realm.
While absorbing the fundamental duties expected of a Saintess, the very first task I undertook was, naturally enough, healing the wounded. And to do so, I set off straight for the northern Demonic Realm, where the greatest number of people fought desperately on the brink of death every single day.
The Demonic Realm... honestly, it wasn't anything too mystical. In the northernmost reaches of the Empire lay a frozen wasteland crawling with vicious demonic beasts. In the original game, it served as a mid-game leveling zone that players had to conquer sooner or later.
Since I've already been there, my strategy guide for the place is flawless.
It was a territory we would have to revisit and conquer once I enrolled in the Academy and linked up with the Hero anyway, so scoping it out early made complete tactical sense. That was why I had chosen it as my initial pilgrimage destination. Thanks to that tour of duty, I had even built solid political ties with the Northern Archduke, which was a huge win in my book.
Truth be told, part of me had wanted to charge straight onto the front lines and swing a blade beside the Northerners, but once you're crowned a Saintess, you have to watch your speech and conduct at all times... More importantly, the Grand Duchy folks treated me like a piece of gossamer porcelain that might shatter in a stiff breeze. Venturing onto an active battlefield under their watchful eyes was completely out of the question.
Even now, they say the North is perpetually starving for priests...
I lingered up north for quite a while, saving as many souls as humanly possible. Fitting for a place called the Demonic Realm, the baseline injury for almost every casualty was at least a severed limb or two. Frankly speaking, it was sheer, unadulterated bliss day in and day out.
There were even a few terrifying moments when the overwhelming euphoria of absorbing their agonies nearly caused me to blow my cover. That was how intoxicating it was. Since ending up in this female body, I had never once engaged in self-pleasure, but back then, I felt absolutely no need for it. Every single day was packed with visceral, sensory ecstasy.
Fortunately, normal people never fathom that someone could experience agonizing pain as rapturous pleasure, so no one ever looked at me with suspicion.
Sensual perks aside, I genuinely couldn't bear to stand by and watch comrades I cared about bleed out, so I gave my absolute all to keep them alive. Perhaps because I threw myself into healing with complete disregard for my own flesh—ready to tear off a limb or two, or even have my torso crushed and skull caved in—the people of the Demonic Realm came to revere me even more than the Emperor himself.
...Though for some baffling reason, they also fretted over me like anxious parents watching a toddler teeter by the edge of a cliff. Well, I suppose that couldn't be helped.
Feeling the phantom ache in my knee fade into pleasant warmth, I made my way back to my seat, where a familiar voice greeted me.
“Saintess... did you exercise your authority again...?”
“[It's fine~ Surely you can let something this minor slide, right?]”
“...As if you would listen to a word I say regardless.”
Danas let out a deep, defeated sigh. Seeing him clad in the gleaming plate of a holy knight still felt surreal.
“[I really never imagined we would cross paths again like this, Danas.]”
I truly had not expected to be reunited with him as my designated escort knight for the journey to the Academy. You have no idea how shocked I was back when he accompanied the holy knight retinue assigned to protect me in the Demonic Realm. Up until then, I had only heard that Danas had quit the adventurer life to become a holy knight, but we hadn't actually met in person since my promotion.
Once I became the Saintess, I was far too prominent and busy, making it virtually impossible for an ordinary knight like Danas to request an audience with me. Which made our reunion all the sweeter.
“[And how are things with Sister Melina?]” I chuckled playfully and nudged him for details.
“W-Why in the world are you asking about that out of nowhere...!?”
Danas stammered, his usual stoic composure crumbling into rare fluster. Oho. Judging by that priceless reaction, something had definitely happened between the two of them.
Living in this world as a Saintess for so long seemed to have made me oddly invested in other people's happily-ever-afters. In Danas's case especially, since I had nearly thrown my life away to save him back during my days as a novice nun, I felt an extra layer of fondness. Even back then, his dynamic with Melina had been delightfully ambiguous. I wondered how far they'd come.
“...We are to be wed next month.”
“[Oh my goodness...! Congratulations, Sir Danas!]”
Marriage, of all things! To think they're actually tying the knot—he really was officially off the market now.
Must be nice...
Back when I was a guy, I had wanted to date girls, fool around, and eventually settle down into married life too. Well, now that I was stuck as a woman, that dream was well and truly dead in the water.
“Which is all the more reason why I have striven so long to stand by your side, Saintess—to serve the one who sacrificed herself to pull me back from the threshold of death.”
“[...Bringing up such embarrassing praise out of nowhere puts me in an awkward spot...]”
Mm. This man hasn't changed a bit, then or now...
Ever since he witnessed me bathing in blood while tending the wounded in the Demonic Realm, he seemed to treat me with an even heavier aura of reverence. It was almost burdensome. Just as I was inwardly sighing at my escort knight's stiff formality—
“We have arrived.”
At long last.
Extending the divine senses that had become as natural to me as my own limbs, I took in the sprawling expanse of Arhen Academy. When I recalled the grueling ordeals I had endured just to reach this point, tears practically threatened to well up.
“[So this is...]”
“The pinnacle of imperial education—Arhen Academy.”
Finally, the main story begins.