The Saintess
Waking up completely refreshed without a shred of a hangover—no matter how much booze I poured down my throat the night before—could truly be called a blessing.
For some reason, my bed was soaking wet and my entire body ached, but I had stopped caring about that quite a while ago. It was probably just because my wounds hadn't fully healed yet.
"Ugh... yaaawn~"
Stretching out my stiff limbs with a languid yawn, I fumbled around on the mattress out of habit, searching for a bottle of liquor.
Squish!
"...Hm?"
Instead of the cold, hard touch of a glass bottle, my fingers sank into something warm, soft, and remarkably supple. Cocking my head in bewilderment, I slowly turned my gaze.
"......"
"Jesus fuck—!"
Standing over me, two eyes gleaming in the dim light, was a dark silhouette. It scared the living daylights out of me.
I had been so thoroughly startled that my tongue twisted, mangling my curse into an undignified squawk.
Oh, and for the record, what I had just grabbed was her thigh.
"Mu-Muriel...? What are you doing?"
"...Have... you awoken. Lord, Alzen..."
"...H-Huh?"
A mutter bordering on a chant, an unsteady pitch, and a staccato voice cutting off abruptly between syllables. It was an utterly abnormal reaction. Frowning in confusion, I scooted back to put some distance between us.
"What's wrong with you? Are you okay?"
"I am, fine. At present... I am, in the middle... of sleeping, so..."
"...Sleeping? You're talking to me right now."
"My consciousness, is... awakening... The required, sleep duration... will be filled shortly... So please, bear with..."
"You aren't some kind of robot, are you?"
Seeing her like this was completely foreign to me. Come to think of it, I recalled having some vague conversation about sleep with her in the past, but I had never dreamed she resolved it like this. Didn't I tell her back then to just sleep comfortably? No, wait, did I tell her to do whatever she wanted?
Don't tell me this counted as a 'comfortable sleep' in her book. That would be both terrifying and pathetic.
Unconsciously knitting my brows, I snatched up the nearby liquor bottle.
"Awakening complete. Lord Alzen, drinking on an empty stomach is detrimental to your health."
"......"
Ignoring her completely, I tipped the bottle back and drank.
"Phew..."
As the harsh spirits burned down my chest, heating my core, the dull aches throbbing throughout my body bobbed to the surface like buoys, shimmering at the edges of my awareness.
"Lord Alzen. I shall bring breakfast."
"Don't need it."
"Please eat even a little."
"I said I don't want it."
I glared at her in annoyance, but she hardened her expression and locked eyes with me, determined not to yield an inch on the matter.
"I shall bring it."
"Haah... Fine, do whatever you want."
"Understood. One moment."
Offering a polite bow, she soon returned bearing a simple meal: bread, stew, and a steak accompanied by a fresh salad. She set the tray down in front of me.
Grumble!
The mouthwatering aroma wafted through the air, causing my stomach to churn in mutiny. To the people toiling away on the reconstruction work down below, this would probably look like a wildly decadent feast. Even so, I didn't bother sitting up; I simply raised the bottle to drink again.
As if she had seen that coming from a mile away, Muriel picked up the cutlery with immaculate posture, placed the bowl of stew right under my chin, and thrust a spoon toward my lips.
"...What do you think you're doing?"
Up until now, she had only urged me with words. This was the first time she had taken physical action. I glanced down at the heaping spoonful of stew, my face scrunching up in distaste, but she remained completely unfazed.
"I am going to feed you."
"I don't need—mph."
"Lord Alzen. Meals are an absolute necessity for sustaining life. They cannot be replaced by alcohol and cigarettes."
Mid-sentence, the spoon skillfully breached my lips, spreading thick, savory stew across my tongue. Before I could even register the flavor, I thrashed instinctively, but in the blink of an eye she pinned me down beneath her knee, neutralizing my entire body. Looking down at me, she flashed a serene smile.
"You...!"
"I will force-feed you if necessary."
"......"
If she had set her mind to it, I honestly possessed zero means of resisting. Actually, was there even a point in fighting her? Quietly eating would save us the pointless scuffle and get things over with far more peacefully.
"...Sigh, fine. I'll eat."
"A wise decision."
Shifting her knee off me, she took a step back.
"Damn it... is this for real? Where in the world do you find a maid like this?"
Pushing myself up to sit on the sofa, I stared at the steaming food and reached for the fork. Before my hand could reach it, however, Muriel's thigh brushed forward and knocked my arm aside. Though wrapped in the long hem of her maid uniform, the firm elasticity of her leg came through with crystal clarity.
"...Now what?"
"Lord Alzen may attempt some trickery, so I shall feed you myself."
The spoon hovered before my lips once more. I stared at her in utter disbelief.
"Are you serious?"
"Completely."
"Don't you think you're treating me a bit too harshly here...?"
"It is not my fault."
"...Sigh, right. Fine, whatever."
I obediently accepted the stew. I hadn't been able to taste it properly a moment ago, but this time, the richness of the tender, slow-cooked meat, the umami of the vegetables, and the savory aroma bloomed vividly across my palate. Though I didn't let it show on my face, it was honestly delicious.
After being fed the entire meal by Muriel, and then given a quick wash by Muriel, I welcomed Vivian, who had dropped by on a get-well visit.
"Orabeoni! How is your body feeling?"
"You ask that every single day. I'm fine."
"Mother said that since you never look after yourself, Orabeoni, I have to check on you every day!"
"Is that so..."
"And today, I even brought a get-well gift! Ta-da, look!"
Beaming, she thrust forward a bouquet of flowers with sparkling eyes. The flowers were a mismatched riot of colors and still had dirt clinging to their roots. From the looks of it, she had yanked them straight out of the garden with her bare hands.
"Thanks, Vivian. I'm sure I'll recover in no time thanks to these."
When I patted her shoulder, she puffed out her chest with a triumphant grin.
"Lady Vivian. Shall we arrange the flowers in this?"
"Ah! Muriel! That's a great idea!"
Muriel materialized holding a slender vase and offered it forward. Vivian's face split into a wide grin as she poured all her aesthetic sense and manual dexterity into stuffing the flowers inside.
Wait, isn't this supposed to be a get-well visit? She's completely forgotten about me.
Isn't she acting a little too childish for a thirteen-year-old? And when on earth is her growth spurt going to hit? She's way too tiny.
...Please, just don't get dropped from the heroine roster...
"Orabeoni! I'll come back later!"
"Sure, run along."
A moment later, having successfully jammed the flowers into the vase so that stems stuck out in every conceivable direction, Vivian set it on the table, bid me one last farewell, and scurried out of the room.
"Haah... Do I really have to do one-on-one interviews all day today too?"
"Indeed."
"How many people are left?"
"Currently, there are 137 reservations."
"That's a ridiculous amount."
Gulp.
I groused while tipping back my bottle, but deep down, I was prepared to endure it. After all, like Rebecca yesterday, I might run into characters who appeared in the original game's storyline.
Contrary to my hopes, today's visitors were complete and utter duds.
Merchants only interested in buying intelligence, mages demanding the fabrication secrets of artifacts like the mana wavelength disruptor, money-grubbing adventurers and mercenaries, and decrepit old men begging for information on the Elixir.
All of them were high-status figures or formidable fighters in their own right, and a few had even made appearances in the setting lore, but none seemed worth cutting a deal with or sharing intel like I had with Rebecca. I had them thrown out without a second thought.
After spending from morning till dusk ruthlessly weeding out the chaff, I managed to plow through all 136 visitors by evening.
"......"
The problem was the last one remaining.
Depending on how you looked at it, this was either hitting the jackpot or drawing the ultimate dud.
Sitting across from me, hands clasped together as if in prayer, was a girl.
Pure white robes symbolizing the Church of the Goddess; delicate blonde hair so pale it looked translucent; a gentle, fragile visage with divine power secretly gleaming from the depths of her golden eyes... and, perched upon her chest, a pair of enormous 'faith pouches' commanding undeniable presence.
"Greetings. Unworthy though I am, I serve as Saintess of the Church of the Goddess. My name is Cecilia."
"...Right."
One of the default heroines, just like our youngest, Vivian, had shown up.
Truth be told, ever since sensitive rumors started swirling about a prophet or an Incarnation, I had expected the Church of the Goddess to come knocking. But I never imagined the Saintess herself would pay a personal visit.
"Phew..."
Taking a gulp of liquor, I exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke. The placid smile on her face twisted into a faint frown. Even after catching her reaction, I merely stared at her in silence.
Before long, a look of distress crept onto her features, and she began to fidget, clearly at a loss for what to do.
"Hey."
"Yes? Ah, yes!"
Her eyes widened at my call, and her face promptly brightened into an expectant smile.
"You came here because you had business with me, right? If you don't, get out."
"Huh...? Ah, no! I do! I have business! B-But, um... I'm a bit sensitive to cigarette smoke, so..."
Glancing sideways at me, she wore a slightly apologetic expression, as if expecting me to take the hint and put it out.
"Your business is just figuring out whether I'm a real Incarnation or not anyway. And someone like you should've known the second you laid eyes on me, right? That I'm nothing of the sort."
"Uh... Well, that's true, but... that's not what I meant..."
Fidgeting nervously, she grabbed fistfuls of her robes and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Isn't... isn't blowing cigarette smoke like that downright rude?! And drinking alcohol in the middle of this! That's no way to treat a guest!"
"And?"
"Wh-What...!?"
When I shot back so casually, she gaped like a fish out of water, utterly flabbergasted. Then, she mumbled meekly, "U-Um... I am the Saintess, you know...?"
A chuckle slipped past my lips despite myself. As expected, she was still young and had been raised like a delicate flower in a greenhouse, making her quite naive.
For the record, she was thirteen years old—the exact same age as our youngest, Vivian. Her secondary sexual characteristics had clearly arrived early; judging by her physical development alone, her combat power was already terrifying.
When on earth was our youngest going to start growing...? No, even accounting for that, the disparity was just too severe.
Vivian, please. I beg of you, just don't get kicked off the heroine roster...
"I know you're the Saintess. So what?"
"Well, um..."
When I maintained my blatant disrespect despite her flaunting her title, she was struck speechless, wearing a completely baffled expression that was honestly rather adorable.
"Inhale, exhaaaale..."
"Ugh...!"
When I deliberately blew a thick cloud of smoke right in her direction, her already furrowed face crumpled like a wad of scrap paper.
"H-How can anyone be this impolite?! Do you have no concept of basic courtesy and consideration?!"
"Cecilia. Wouldn't getting straight to the point and leaving be the most rational way to minimize your discomfort, rather than squabbling over manners?"
My quiet, detached remark left her mouth hanging open.
If she were someone I could befriend and exploit, I might have made some concessions. But trying to manipulate the Saintess herself was set to nightmare difficulty. Strictly speaking, the ducal house's youngest daughter, Vivian, was hardly an easy figure either, but as her third older brother, I at least had the leverage to test the waters.
Thank goodness the ducal house didn't go under.
"......"
Furthermore, considering that Tu-moa, the goddess worshipped by the Church of the Goddess, might very well be the culprit who transmigrated me into this world, my guard naturally spiked through the roof. I had no idea whether she was the primary deity I should be praying to or the one entity I needed to avoid at all costs.
"Huff...! Huff...!"
Flushed bright red like a boiling octopus, she somehow managed to swallow her fury. Adopting a veneer of stoicism, she fixed an unblinking gaze on me. A subtle, shimmering halo of divine light seemed to drift around her.
"...Very well. Since the first matter of verifying the Incarnation is concluded, I shall state the second. Where, and how, did you acquire the information you possess?"
"One day, a divine being descended and whispered it into my ear."
"What kind of... Please do not lie. I cannot sense the slightest trace of a divine presence upon you."
"That's a shame. But my answer isn't going to change. Lately, I've been giving that exact same answer to everyone who asks. They usually understand and back off on their own."
When I chuckled and waved my hand dismissively, color rushed to her cheeks once more.
"To exploit the name of a divine being... that is..."
"Why? Is it heresy?"
"It does not go quite that far, but... it is excessively blasphemous."
"Oh my~ what a terrible shame."
"......"
Her glare was remarkably sharp. I could practically hear the sound of her affection points plummeting through the floor.
"Do you truly have no intention of answering properly?"
"If I told you I just woke up knowing it all one day for no reason whatsoever, would you believe me?"
"...No."
"There you go, then. Let's move on to the next item on the agenda."
"Haah..."
Letting out a deep sigh laden with exasperation, she looked at me again with clear, resolute eyes.
"Recently, a cardinal of the Church fell under a curse. Can you resolve that issue?"
"A curse~? Oh boy. Outsourcing your own specialty to an outsider... Is the Church of the Goddess finally going bankrupt?"
"How dare you! This particular case is simply unprecedented and bizarre!"
"Whatever it is, it hardly sounds like something you'd come all this way for based purely on unconfirmed rumors... You aren't bullshitting me, are you?"
At my words, she scowled in displeasure.
"Why on earth would we tell such a lie?"
"Hmm, to test me? You church folks are pretty fond of that sort of thing."
"Haah... It's nothing like that. Please take this seriously. This is a critical matter that could potentially lead to victory in the war against the demon race."
"...Oho."
An unexpected development. A low whistle slipped past my lips.
"Let's hear the details."
Gulp.
I knocked back another mouthful of liquor and fixed a bleary, half-lidded stare on her. Cecilia let out yet another sigh, looking as though she couldn't find a single shred of reliability in me.