What Kind of Saintess Quits the Party Just Because She Doesn't Like the Hero
"So you're saying… you want to leave the Hero's party?"
"Yes. Please process it quickly."
"You think this is the kind of problem you can just dump on me with a 'please process it quickly~' and it'll get handled on the spot? You lunatic."
The figure projected in the round orb-shaped magic tool on the table shouted in an incredulous, furious voice.
"You suddenly call me through the crystal ball and I thought something had blown up again—you fought with the Hero?"
"Fought? If that crazy bastard hadn't spent ten years doing nothing but this crap, we'd have beaten the Demon King ages ago and the Goddess would have sent me back to my original world! Wouldn't you be pissed?"
"Even so! What kind of Saintess in the world just quits the Hero's party on her own because she doesn't like the Hero?! Absolutely not!"
A well-groomed middle-aged man in a neat uniform looked out from inside the crystal ball. He had the air of a veteran hero, but Grace pushed right back, refusing to yield an inch.
"If you were going to handle things like this, you should've reincarnated me as the Hero instead of the Saintess! Why do I have to slave away for ten years because of that idiot Hero and still not get to go home—hell, I haven't even seen the Demon King's face once!"
"Aigoo, you little brat…"
"As if having my dick ripped off wasn't absurd enough already, that so-called Hero has zero intention of catching the Demon King and just bickers every day with nobodies who have nothing to do with the Demon King's army. And when they get themselves beat half to death day in and day out, who's the one stuck cleaning up after them?"
I still remembered it perfectly.
Three years ago, when we boarded a ship to subjugate the deep-sea monster Leviathan that lived in the vast ocean west of the kingdom, and the entire party nearly drowned.
And five years before that? When we went after the Crystal Dragon, infamous for snatching villagers out hunting or gathering and eating their hearts, I nearly withered away and died keeping the party members alive.
If any of it had actually helped with the Demon King's subjugation, I wouldn't have cared—but the times we'd truly encountered the Demon King's army could be counted on one hand.
"I'm not some public healing spray that just keeps saving them and everyone who gets hurt because of them. How long am I supposed to grit my teeth and play nanny to a bunch of idiots?"
"So your conclusion is that you're going to catch the Demon King alone?"
"Yes."
"From where I'm standing, it looks like you've got more than a few screws loose in that head of yours too."
What's wrong with my head.
It's better than those idiot party members who live like there's no tomorrow.
"Just what do you think a Saintess is?"
"A Hero-exclusive healing factor? A healing spray?"
"A Saintess is meant to uphold the Goddess's sacred power and will! Her role is to spread the Goddess's warmth and authority to others—not to be some bloodless, tearless combatant charging the front lines to beat down demons!"
…Is that so?
I instinctively almost argued back, but if I picked that fight I'd clearly end up listening to hours of sermon disguised as brainwashing, so I just shook my head vaguely.
"Anyway, I'm not going back. Attach some other healer or priest to them yourselves."
"And you?"
I stared blankly at the small leather bag sitting beside the crystal ball.
Since the Saintess's role in the Hero's party had been nothing but rear support and recovery, all the bag held were emergency medicines for worst-case scenarios and potions for mana recovery.
Even if I was seeing red right now, I had no intention of marching off to subjugate the Demon King with gear like this.
"…I guess I'll have to head back to the capital first."
"Haa… Fine. I'll speak to the High Priest and the temple. Contact me when you arrive."
Beep—
The moment the communication cut off, every last bit of strength left my body and I collapsed onto the bed.
"If I'd known it'd be like this, I would've just gone after the Demon King alone from the start…"
This time we'll go catch the Demon King. This time we'll find some kind of lead…
The years I wasted on those empty thoughts added up to a full ten years. Ten years.
"I want kimchi stew. Hotteok too. PoX chips…"
Images of the nostalgic foods I hadn't touched in ten years—now almost faded—flashed through my mind.
It wasn't that the food here tasted bad, but there was no way an Earthling's palate, trained on spicy, salty, and sweet stimulation, could ever be satisfied with plain medieval fare.
Knock knock—
While I was lost in idle thoughts, someone knocked on the door from outside.
"Saintess, the carriage you requested is ready."
When I opened the door, the innkeeper stood there in a polite posture and greeted me.
"Ah, thank you."
After packing everything into my bag and about to step outside, I remembered how I'd made a scene at the inn last night arguing with the Hero.
Even if we were the Hero's party, just walking away after causing that kind of trouble wouldn't be right.
"I'm sorry about yesterday."
When I handed him a glass bottle filled with liquid that glinted faintly in the sunlight, the innkeeper accepted it with a polite yet thoroughly puzzled gesture.
"Um, if I may ask… what is this…?"
"It's water imbued with my holy power. Just think of it as holy water. If you drink it in an emergency, it'll have the same effect as receiving a high-grade heal."
The innkeeper's hands began to tremble violently at the explanation. It was the sight of a tremor ready to drop the bottle at any second battling a firm will that absolutely must not drop it.
"Th-this precious thing… why give it to me?"
Precious?
It was nothing more than a mass-produced potion I made one by one whenever I had leftover holy power.
"We were a bit noisy yesterday. It's a tip."
"A tip…? Ah, in any case, thank you so very much!"
I gave a small wave to the innkeeper, who looked ready to drop to his knees and bow, and left the room.
The carriage was probably waiting outside the inn.
As I slowly descended the stairs, I saw my former party members Alec and Alisa already downstairs, nursing hangovers with soup.
"…"
"Um, Saintess Grace…"
Alec kept slurping his soup without a word, while Alisa looked over at me hesitantly.
Hero Kyle didn't seem to be at the inn right now. Good. If he had been, I might not have been able to hold back from spitting on him.
"Take care. Idiots."
"Are you really going to go catch the Demon King alone? Right now?"
Alisa hurriedly stopped me with a slightly teary expression.
Alisa. Once called a genius and the next Magic Tower Master who would lead the next generation at the capital's Magic Tower—now a girl who spent every day in the party flirting with Hero Kyle.
I didn't particularly hold any ill will toward her. We didn't scrap with each other every day like Alec, and she didn't have any major parts that rubbed me the wrong way like Kyle.
If I had to pick one thing, it was that I'd lost sleep a few times listening to her and that Kyle bastard flirting late into the night. That was pretty annoying.
"I'll probably stop by the capital to resupply first."
"Then… could you perhaps deliver this to my master at the Magic Tower?"
"…The Magic Tower?"
Figures.
I'd wondered why she'd suddenly called me over—this must have been the real reason.
What Alisa handed me was a purple crystal of unknown identity. It looked like an object sealed with magic that only mages could decipher among themselves.
"I'm sorry. I wanted to deliver it myself if possible…"
"It's fine. I'll deliver it."
Honestly, it wasn't like I felt no annoyance.
But the last time the Hero's party had stopped by the capital was already more than five years ago. From her perspective, it was only natural she'd be curious about the well-being of her master and friends who should still be in the capital.
Unlike Alec, who'd grown up in the extreme environment of the North, and Kyle, who'd been chosen as the Hero since childhood, Alisa had been a girl who until ten years ago had only studied magic under her master at the Magic Tower every day, doing nothing but research.
"Thank you so much, Saintess! And… thank you for everything up until now, truly."
"Yeah. You guys take care of yourselves too."
Unlike Alisa, who raised her hand slightly to see me off, Alec didn't even glance my way until the moment I left the inn.
I took one last look at the two of them from behind and boarded the carriage bound for the capital.
"So you're saying Grace fought with the Hero and then quit the party?"
"…As you've heard."
"And then she threatened to go catch the Demon King alone?"
Beneath the stained glass glowing in multicolored light, a man in military uniform—Noah—knelt on one knee with his head bowed before a woman in a simple yet clean and nobly tailored nun's habit and a middle-aged man in a black priest's robe.
"Puhahahaha!"
Upon hearing Noah's report, the man in the priest's robe burst into a hearty, almost manic laugh completely unsuited to the atmosphere.
"You find this situation funny, Raphael?"
"Aha, ahahaha! Isn't that just like her? High Priest? Didn't I tell you? That kid was never cut out to be a Saintess—she's talent meant to be a combat priest."
"The Saintess chosen by the Goddess wants to charge alone to the front lines and fight… Haa. I was a fool for thinking that if I taught her well and got her properly placed in the Hero's party, there wouldn't be any problems."
Listening quietly to the two of them, Noah felt cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck.
The High Priest of the temple, who served the Goddess more closely than anyone save the Saintess herself, and Raphael, the legendary strongest combat priest of all time who had left behind legendary achievements.
Having to report such unpleasant news before two people whose very standing rivaled that of the king who ruled the kingdom put him in an extremely awkward position.
"Right. So that adorable little brat is currently riding a carriage toward the capital?"
"Y-yes, sir! That's correct!"
Even though he wasn't particularly radiating a coercive atmosphere, perhaps it was the intimidation that came with the name. Outwardly Raphael had the air of a friendly middle-aged uncle, but even a seasoned soldier like Noah found his head naturally bowing before him.
"Good, good. Been a while since I've seen my disciple's face."
"Why is Grace your disciple?"
"Well, there's no law that says I can't call her my disciple just because I didn't teach her through official channels, is there?"
As the High Priest looked ready to clutch his head and collapse at any moment, Raphael stroked his neatly trimmed beard as if he couldn't even see him, recalling his former disciple who possessed a spirit unbefitting a young girl.