I Raised This Kid All Wrong
A brilliant light erupted from the silver revolver in Raphael's right hand, and something grazed Grace's right cheek along with the crack of the gunshot. It wasn't a physical bullet. Just as mana is essential to any mage who wields magic, holy power is to priests who make combat their living.
Even as a bullet of condensed holy power skimmed past her cheek with a sharp thwack, Grace's expression didn't so much as flicker. She blocked the kick Raphael sent flying toward a vital point, then hooked his outstretched leg inward in a flash and leveled her muzzle at his unprotected brow.
"Still as fast as ever!"
Raphael wasn't the type to just sit there and take it. He dropped his head in an instant, slipping beneath the musket's line of fire, then swept his arm around and smashed a blow into the right wrist gripping Grace's weapon. The impact threw off her aim for a split second. He wrenched his leg free from her hold and gave her a light kick to the chest, sending her staggering back.
After that brief exchange, the two of them stood facing each other across about fifteen feet of open ground.
"Ten years really isn't that short a time, huh. Looking at how much you've slowed down."
"Youth really is a hell of a thing. Besides, I don't get out in the field much these days."
To anyone who didn't know the circumstances, it would have looked like a nightmare — two priests going at each other with guns in the middle of the temple in broad daylight. But contrary to appearances, a faint smile lingered at the corners of both their mouths. It had been a long time since they'd last crossed hands.
"I was going to do whatever it took to stop you from leaving if your skills had gone rusty."
"I've been out there rolling around with the Hero, one step from death, more times than I can count. My skills have only gotten sharper, not rustier."
"Haha. I heard. You took down the Leviathan in the West Sea recently, didn't you? A Hero really is a Hero. The fact that they even thought to hunt that thing..."
Raphael casually holstered his revolver, and Grace lowered the muzzle of the musket she'd been pointing at him. He looked at her then, something wistful in his eyes. It was a look she knew all too well, and Grace flinched under it, visibly uncomfortable.
"What's with that look?"
"When you were first chosen as the Saintess, you were still just a little girl with baby fat on your cheeks. And now look at you. All grown up before I even noticed."
There was a tremor in Raphael's voice as he said it — the kind that belongs to a father watching his daughter grow up and stand on the verge of independence.
"...I've told you how many times. I'm not a little girl."
"To me, you'll always just be a young, fragile little girl. Never in a million years did I imagine you'd be chosen as the Saintess, though."
Of course, it wasn't as if Grace didn't understand how he felt, or why he treated her this way. Fifteen years ago, when she'd first fallen into this world — no parents, no friends, an orphan starving to death in some back alley — it had been Priest Raphael who'd saved her and raised her. He was the only person in this strange world she could trust and lean on. Her teacher. Something like an adoptive father.
"Are you still only thinking about going back to your original world?"
But even so, the family from her previous life, the life she'd lived before — they still lingered in Grace's heart, flickering like afterimages that refused to fade.
"...Yes."
"I see."
A bitter smile settled on Raphael's face.
"If that's how you feel, I suppose there's nothing I can do about it. Go on. Go tell the High Priestess."
"...Uh, so. What exactly am I supposed to tell her?"
"You made this mess and now you're asking me what to say? You idiot."
Kyle told me to get out, so I actually went and left. If I'd known it would come to this, I would've packed up and taken off without ever setting foot in the capital.
In that instant, goosebumps erupted across Grace's skin — Grace, who hadn't broken a single cold sweat even when she'd gone head-to-head with Raphael. A voice she hadn't heard since she'd been appointed Saintess ten years ago. A voice she'd been sure she'd never have to hear again. The owner of that voice, who had inflicted a lifetime's worth of PTSD on Grace from the day Raphael had picked her up and she'd started living at the temple.
"H-High Priestess... Isabella."
"It's been a long time, Grace. This is the first time we've seen each other since you received the Goddess's blessing, isn't it?"
High Priestess Isabella was famous for her gentle nature, among priests and common folk alike. But right now, her usual warm smile was twitching, as if something inside her was about to burst out at any second.
"You've grown so much. Really. When you were little, the moment I had any reason to scold you, you'd hide between Raphael's legs and peek out at me. And now, after receiving the title of Saintess and going through puberty, you go and drop a bomb like this."
"H-High Priestess. This is— I mean, if you'd just give me a chance to explain—"
"I wouldn't try hiding behind Priest Raphael this time. You're well past the age where that works, don't you think? Especially considering the years from your previous life."
Grace. Twenty-four years in her previous life before a tragic accident killed her. Fifteen years in this world. Nearly forty years of living in total. And yet she didn't have the courage to talk back to the High Priestess — a woman who was like a mother to every priest she taught and cared for.
"So what you're telling me is that you and the Hero had a falling-out over a difference of opinion, and he told you to leave first. Is that it?"
"Th-that's right!"
They were in High Priestess Isabella's private chambers, deep inside the temple. On any other day the room would have been quiet and cozy. Right now, one person in particular was making the atmosphere extremely uncomfortable.
"And so you've decided to go hunt the Demon King by yourself...?"
"Y-yes."
The two of them sat facing each other across a small table. Grace, who until moments ago had been radiating the spirit of a valiant warrior while trading blows with Raphael, had shrunk into something resembling a cowed little herbivore in front of Isabella. It was almost impossible to believe they were the same person.
"Honestly, after I heard Noah's report yesterday, I spent the whole time wondering how many hours of sermon I'd have to give you once you got back."
"Urgh."
Grace winced before she even realized she was doing it. Back when temple life was still new to her, she'd sneak out of worship or cause some kind of trouble, get caught, and be dragged before Isabella for a bombardment of nagging that went by the name of a sermon. Those memories were still painfully vivid.
"Never mind. You're not a child anymore. You've been out on your own getting knocked around for ten years — I'm sure you've had hardships we know nothing about. And I imagine those hardships had something to do with hunting the Demon King."
"R-right. Something like that."
"Do you have a plan, then? Our lovely little Saintess?"
"Please don't call me that! It's embarrassing..."
Grace turned her eyes away from Isabella in flustered panic at the question about a plan. Raphael does it, Isabella does it. Is it just me, or do the people who know I used to be a guy tease me even harder?
"So you don't have a plan. Act first, think later — you haven't changed a bit since you were little."
"B-but I can't just keep going on like this! We don't even know when the Demon King might show up again, and that Hero guy has zero interest in actually finding him."
The current Hero's party has no sense of duty. The Demon King's in hiding so we can't find him anyway, so we just wait until he comes out? How long are they planning to wait? If he won't come out, you keep pounding on the door until he does. You smash the demon army until he has no choice. Isn't that how this works?
"...Your leaving the Hero's party is already done, and the rumors have spread everywhere by now, so I'll accept that much. But going after the Demon King alone is out of the question."
"Huh?"
"Don't you 'huh' me. How many times do I have to tell you to start acting like the Saintess you are? What happens if you go after the Demon King alone and something goes wrong? And then the Demon King suddenly reappears in the world?"
There wasn't a single thing wrong with Isabella's rebuttal. Grace's shoulders slumped.
"I understand that you want to return to your original world as soon as possible... but please consider how we feel as well, Grace. You are one of humanity's hopes right now. If something terrible were to happen to you, we would be in serious trouble."
Fine. All of that's fair. Getting reincarnated into another world overflowing with magic and other races — anyone who'd ever read a fantasy novel wanted that at least once. It's not like I hate it either. Academy stories, Hero stories, all of that's great. But why the hell did I have to get reincarnated into this role?
Losing my dick in the transmigration process already pisses me off. The bland food pisses me off. And being an orphan with zero family history, nowhere to sponge off except the temple, pisses me off even more. Games? Movies? Anime? I wasn't even hoping for those. But how am I supposed to not even get to read a single novel in peace, when every single day is training, worship, training, worship... How the hell am I supposed to spend the rest of my life in a place this boring? I absolutely cannot do it.
"...All right. If you're going to put it like that, I don't have much of a choice."
"That's a wise decision, Grace."
They say a person's intelligence multiplies when they're cooking up a scheme, don't they? An idea flashed through Grace's mind in that instant. A way to stay out of the Hero's party while still addressing Isabella's concerns.
"In that case, High Priestess."
"...What is it?"
"If the problem is something happening to me while I'm traveling alone, then as long as I have a party to travel with — even if it's not the Hero's party — there shouldn't be an issue, right?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Isabella's gentle face filled with sheer incredulity. She clearly hadn't seen this coming.
"If I just grab a few people from the kingdom who can take care of themselves and bring them along, there wouldn't be any problem at all, would there?"
Grace's eyes lit up as she declared it, looking for all the world like a scientist shouting eureka.
High Priestess Isabella clutched her head against the headache, and her groan of despair echoed through the empty, silent private chambers where not a soul passed by.