Who Says a Saintess Can't Use Force?
"That's enough, Lea. You're making our guest uncomfortable."
The gentle voice belonged to a man who had appeared without my noticing. The robed girl — who had, at some point, even grabbed the hand I'd been using to hold the crystal — froze where she stood.
"D-Deputy Tower Master?"
The man who had called her Lea was young, still in his prime, and dressed in something distinctly unusual for a mage: clothing that looked more like a uniform than any robe I had ever seen. He plucked the pointed hat from Lea's head, gave her hair a single affectionate pat, then turned toward me and offered a light, polite bow.
"I've heard bits and pieces from the High Priest, but I see the rumors were true. You really have parted ways with the Hero."
...And you are?
Deputy Tower Master or not, no face came to mind. The only person I knew from the Magic Tower was Alisa.
"Forgive the late introduction. I am Stein, Deputy Tower Master of the Magic Tower — though I fear I am hardly worthy of the title. It is an honor to meet you, Saintess."
"Ah, Stein. I remember Alisa mentioning you a few times."
Among the Magic Tower stories Alisa used to ramble about whenever she got drunk, the name that came up most after her master, the Tower Master himself, had been Stein.
"W-wait a moment, Deputy Tower Master. Did you just say Saintess? This person... standing right here?"
Lea, who had been hovering quietly between the two of us, felt her pupils blow wide. The proxy of the Goddess — the kingdom's one and only deity — and one of the two heroes destined to save the world from the Demon King's coming threat. That person, the Saintess, had been lingering at the entrance of the Magic Tower... and Lea had walked right up to her and shown off her knowledge like some insufferable know-it-all.
"I wasn't exactly trying to stand out. I even picked ordinary, easy-to-move-in clothes on purpose. Was it that obvious?"
"Of course it was. Everyone saw your face at the commissioning ceremony, didn't they? It would be stranger not to recognize the Saintess after seeing that ash-colored hair."
"...Guess I should dye it or something. Sheesh."
I had never imagined that such a drab hair color would actually make me stand out more.
"Hm?"
Stein's gaze fell on the purple crystal in my hand. A faint smile began to tug at the corner of his mouth.
"I was wondering what would bring the Saintess to the Magic Tower in person. I see — Alisa asked you to deliver that."
"You already knew?"
"Even back then, Alisa used to write personal messages like that for the Tower Master — ones only the two of them could read. The circuits woven into it are so complex you'd never believe a child made them. Almost a waste, using something like that as a mere letter."
Stein gazed off into the distance for a moment, as if lost in the past, then gestured for Lea to go inside.
"I-it was an honor to meet youuu— ah!"
Lea stammered out her farewell, biting her own tongue in her fluster, as if she couldn't bear how mortifying the whole encounter had been. Watching her scramble back into the Magic Tower, Stein chuckled softly and turned to me.
"One of my disciples. She doesn't quite measure up to Alisa, but she has talent of her own. The reason she reacted to that crystal was curiosity about the mana circuits designed inside it, I imagine."
"Haha..."
Judging by appearances alone, I had figured she was the same gloomy type as Alisa — but she seemed a lot more sociable than expected.
"The Tower Master is currently away dealing with a black mage problem. It will likely be some time before he returns."
"Black mages? Those heretics are still in the kingdom?"
I reacted more sharply than I meant to. Stein had tossed the word out as if it were nothing.
"They've recently become active again. Savages who use monster magic while still wearing human skin."
There was a reason both of us had bristled at the mention. Ordinary mages used mana that flowed from nature. Save for a handful of geniuses like Alisa, that meant years of gathering it from the world thread by thread, expanding the total they could hold, constructing mana circuits for efficiency — honing their craft through sheer, grinding effort.
Black mages found that effort tedious. Or they simply wanted to grow stronger far faster than hard work would ever allow. So they abandoned their humanity and accepted the mana of monsters instead. Which naturally made them enemies of both sides: the Magic Tower, which pursued the pinnacle of magic and held it as something sacred, and the Temple, which despised monsters as beings that defied the natural order and stood against the Goddess.
"The Demon King has been far too quiet lately. For them to suddenly resume their activities now — there's clearly a reason. However..."
"It's too dangerous to send just anyone. I understand."
Without meaning to, I found myself looking at Stein — his head bowed, his expression dark — with something like sympathy. I still remembered the brothers and sisters from my training days under Raphael, before I became the Saintess. The ones who had gone out to purge black mages and never come back. They may have abandoned their humanity, but having taken in the violent mana and magic of monsters, their danger was on a level that ordinary beasts couldn't even begin to match.
"...Black mages, huh."
Something heavy shifted inside the long bag slung across my back, producing a dull metallic rattle.
"What would you like to do? If you intend to wait until the Tower Master returns, I can have tea and refreshments brought out."
"...Ah!"
In the middle of deciding what to do, a hypothesis flashed through my mind. A black mage — and one important and powerful enough that the Tower Master himself had gone out to deal with them — would almost certainly be connected to a seriously strong monster. If I went and wrecked some black mages, I might get a two-for-one deal and find out where the Demon King was hiding, too.
I remembered hearing something like this, back before I'd transmigrated. The best support isn't the one who heals after the fact. It's the one who wrecks the enemy first so the allies never get hurt at all.
"Stein. The black mages — no, the Tower Master. Where is he right now?"
"That's... why do you ask...?"
"No particular reason. I just figured I'd go deliver this myself. Right now."
The smile on my face as I said it was not the gentle, merciful smile of a Saintess. It was something far more wicked.
"...What... in the world."
A colossal serpent lay sprawled across the plains, a beast large enough to swallow twenty men and still have room left over. Among the soldiers it was a legend — a living nightmare. They told the story of an entire squad that had been reckless enough to charge it, only to be swallowed whole and digested within minutes, not a single body left behind.
And that monster had been slaughtered by just two people, butchered without so much as a chance to fight back. The soldiers ringing the scene could only stare, unable to speak, their eyes trembling as they took in the two figures standing over the carcass.
"Father Raphael. I heard our youngest got back yesterday. How come you haven't introduced us even once?"
A sharp-faced man with a massive greatsword strapped to his back.
"You think that'd go over well? She's not one of us anymore. She's the Saintess. The Saintess. If you happen to run into her at the Temple, do everyone a favor and pretend you didn't see her. Better for you, better for her."
A middle-aged man holding a gleaming silver revolver in one hand. Both wore unadorned black priestly robes, chatting away as if the monster corpse they were sitting on was nothing at all.
"Come on now. It's been almost ten years since I last saw the kid. Don't I at least get to see how much she's grown?"
"Then go find her yourself. But if you cause a scene, I'll kill you."
"Aww, come on..."
The greatsword-wielding man, still talking with Father Raphael — the one with the revolver — spat on the monster's corpse in dissatisfaction, then stood and started walking.
"What are you looking at? Never seen a priest before?"
"M-make way!"
At the order of a soldier who appeared to be in charge, the men standing in his path scrambled aside with trembling limbs.
"That guy's supposed to be a man of the cloth, and he's got a personality like that. Tsk tsk."
A moment later, Raphael tucked his revolver into his pocket and strolled away from the corpse at a leisurely pace.
"Keep up the good work~"
"Y-yes, sir! Thank you for your hard work!"
"Thank you for your hard work!"
The ranking soldier who had given the earlier order saluted Raphael, and the rest of the men followed in booming voices. The remaining soldiers were all there for corpse disposal and transport.
"...Who were those people?"
One of the soldiers, still overwhelmed by the two men's presence, asked another. He was a young recruit, the green of someone barely out of civilian life still written all over him.
"You don't know who they are?"
"W-well, they seemed like they were from the Temple, but..."
Why were priests dispatched from the Temple handling monster cleanup instead of the Magic Tower or the army? That was probably what the young man really wanted to ask.
"The Vatican."
The ranking soldier who had been giving orders spoke in a low voice.
"A special task force belonging to the Temple. They fight by infusing silver weapons with holy power, the same way mages use mana."
"A special task force?"
"Those bastards exist solely to hunt monsters and execute black mages. Aside from their leader, Father Raphael, every last member's identity is classified. They're monsters, built for one purpose: fighting anything that stands against the Temple."
The ranking soldier watched the two men walking off into the distance and shook his head, looking thoroughly done with the whole thing.
"Not like you'll ever have anything to do with them anyway. Forget it and get started on the recovery."
"Yes, sir!"
With a hearty shout, the soldiers began recovering the serpent monster's corpse — a carcass so gruesome it was hard to believe human hands had done that to it.