Where Is a Saintess Like This?
Klaus might have been a greenhorn, but he wasn't a complete idiot with zero instincts.
The fact that Thirin had colluded with someone from the Pantheon was at least partially true.
What Klaus had witnessed was flame.
He had seen flames burning in Thirin's eyes.
Fiercely blazing flames that burned out quickly because of their short lifespan.
But that impression vanished from his mind the moment Thirin spoke.
"Then let's move out. Mr. Hybrid."
Thirin relaxed the intensity in her eyes and spoke while staring at the checkpoint through the hole in the wall.
"......Hybrid?"
"That's right."
Thirin nodded with solemn dignity.
"Humans can become anything. They can even become sticks. From now on, Stalker, you are a miraculous hybrid of human and stick. A composite lifeform of stick and human. Two extremely disparate beings have achieved high-level fusion and become a hybrid. You've become the origin of a new species. Congratulations."
"......"
"You've gotten stronger. By exactly one stick's worth. Now charge!"
Klaus tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.
She was insane.
It was summer.
Klaus stepped out of the room.
From behind came a stream of nonsense about supporting the noble first steps of the union between human and stick.
Klaus ground his teeth.
'How the hell did I end up...'
He struggled to wipe away the self-loathing rising in his mind.
'The first place I need to hit is...'
Thirin had precisely identified which parts of the city's back alleys he should strike.
What she had demanded was only the surface of those alleys. But he wouldn't ignore any fights that walked right up to him.
In a way, this could even be considered part of the security force's patrol duties.
Patrols were originally the job of rank-and-file soldiers.
Officers commanded, received reports, and established plans. Nowhere in any imperial military academy manual did it teach a decurion to personally prowl alleys and smack thugs on the back of the head.
Klaus simply wasn't accustomed to this type of work.
"......"
But for an imperial officer to shy away from a task by claiming he wasn't used to it was utterly shameful.
Klaus opened the door of a run-down building and shouted. The first attempt was painfully awkward.
"....This is the security force's newly appointed Decurion.... Klaus. A report of illegal activity has, um, been received. Cooperate with the investigation."
"Shit, why the hell is the security force here!"
He scattered the thugs.
Next.
Klaus kicked the door open and shouted. This time he was slightly more accustomed.
"This is the security force's newly appointed Decurion Klaus. We will now search and seize this illegal trading site. Don't move."
"Damn it, security force at this hour!"
He chased off the black-market dealers.
And next.
Klaus smashed the door apart and shouted. For some reason he felt overflowing with energy.
"This is the security force's newly appointed Decurion Klaus! Everyone on the ground!"
"Goddamn, why is the security force suddenly doing shit they never did before?!"
Klaus repeated the process of roughly stirring up trouble exactly as Thirin had ordered.
And what he realized was...
"Hmm..."
...that, surprisingly, it was fun.
Under the authority of the security force, most thugs, black-market dealers, and low-grade adventurers who could turn to robbery at any moment scattered in utter panic.
Klaus couldn't quite understand why the act felt enjoyable.
If it had been Thirin, she would have arrogantly spouted some nonsense about room cleaning and the immediate sensory experience of its utility, all while showing off knowledge she'd scraped together from shorts.
Anyway, the important part was that Klaus had discovered a subtle pleasure in watching thugs flee, something entirely different from his usual duties.
Thanks to Thirin, he had learned an instant dopamine release method.
It was yet another crime scene in the modern person's invasion of another world.
Of course, not everyone had fled in blind panic.
It happened after he kicked down the fifth door.
"This is the security force's newly appointed Decurion Klaus! Illegal activi—"
Klaus's shout cut off midway. The scene inside the room had seized his attention.
A man was tied to a shabby chair in the center of the room. He was covered in blood.
Five or six thugs wielding clubs and daggers surrounded him.
Startled by Klaus's sudden appearance, all eyes turned toward the door.
The man tied to the chair spotted Klaus's uniform and screamed desperately.
"S-save me, my lord! These bastards...!"
"Shut your mouth, you fuck!"
"Urk...!"
One thug kicked the man in the stomach. Klaus's brow twitched.
'So it really was here. Well, it's not surprising.'
Back alleys were originally places like this. In the shadows, violence and exploitation always sprouted like mold.
"Oh dear. Looks like we have an uninvited guest."
The man who appeared to be the thugs' leader stepped forward.
Far from being intimidated by Klaus, he actually wore a sly smile.
"This is a personal matter, my lord. It's business. Why don't you mind your own business and be on your way?"
"It looks rather violent for a 'personal matter.'"
The man beside him added.
"Since when did the security force bother with trivial little squabbles like this? If you've got time to waste, go catch some thieves instead."
Klaus assessed the situation.
They weren't backing down even after seeing the uniform. These weren't ordinary thugs. They were organized. They were the ones who actually ruled this district.
Then he would have to arrest them.
Klaus placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and spoke coldly.
"Drop your weapons and kneel, all of you."
"Ha! Brave words for a man who came alone, my lord. You're going to regret this."
The moment the leader finished speaking, the thugs charged all at once.
The chaos before his eyes was instantly organized inside Klaus's head.
Enemies: five.
Number one, the leader in front. Weapon: wooden club. Large trajectory, easy to predict. Subduable in one exchange.
Numbers two and three, the dagger users on both sides. They would attempt a coordinated attack. The greatest threat while dealing with number one.
Numbers four and five, in the rear. Not an immediate threat, but variables that would complete the encirclement if two and three weren't neutralized quickly.
The most efficient solution was obvious.
Klaus stood firm in the doorway and refused to retreat. The narrow entrance was the most disadvantageous terrain, but simultaneously the most advantageous.
First exchange.
Number one charged in, swinging the club over his head. Foolish. A large-trajectory frontal attack was the easiest to read.
Klaus twisted his body a half-step sideways, letting the club flow past. At the same time, he struck the man's temple precisely with the pommel of his sword.
Thud!
A familiar sensation. He didn't bother confirming that number one had rolled his eyes back and collapsed. Klaus had already transitioned to the second move.
Klaus quickly stepped back behind the door.
When number one fell, the narrow entrance would be temporarily blocked. Numbers two and three would have to climb over their comrade. Three moves would be enough.
Just as expected. The moment number two, the dagger user, lost his balance while climbing over the fallen body—
Klaus's military boot had already slammed into the man's knee.
"Keugh!"
The instant number two screamed and crumpled, Klaus struck his jaw. Concussion. Unconscious. Second move complete.
Third move.
Number three didn't come through. The man had frozen after seeing his comrade fall. Plan changed. Time to seize the momentum.
Klaus leaped over the fallen number one and kicked number three squarely in the lower body.
"Kyaaaagh! Urk...!"
As the man curled forward, Klaus slammed the scabbard into his temple. Third concussion.
"Y-you damn...!"
"Where the hell did this bastard come from?!"
Numbers four and five had lost all will to fight.
Klaus drew his sword.
"Drop your weapons. Surrender quietly and I'll take it into consideration."
"......Damn it!"
"Like hell we'll get caught!"
Numbers four and five backed away before turning tail and fleeing.
"......"
Klaus thought.
Chasing them down and capturing them would be easy. But he had a role to fulfill.
'I need to spread the rumor. A rumor about the stupid but competent stick.'
They would faithfully spread that rumor for him.
Klaus slid his sword back into its sheath.
The sound of metal meeting leather rang out unusually dry.
He approached the bloodied man tied to the chair and cut his bonds.
"Thank you, thank you..."
The moment he was freed, the man began shedding tears on the floor. Klaus looked down at him for a moment before speaking.
"Go to the nearest security station and request protection. Mention my name and they'll help you."
Klaus sent the man out of the building. Despite his limp, the man quickly disappeared from the back alley.
"......"
Klaus was wrapped in an indescribable, extremely subtle emotion.
What exactly was this feeling?
He was pondering that as he prepared to leave the alley when someone called out to him.
"My lord! My lord...!"
It was a hunchbacked old woman who had been selling fruit by the roadside. With wrinkled hands, she carried something wrapped in her apron and approached with quick, shuffling steps.
"This... it's not much, but..."
The old woman handed him something. A few fruits.
She grabbed Klaus's hand and said,
"Those men kept harassing us old folks. Thanks to you, my lord, it should quiet down a bit now."
"......"
"Are you strengthening the patrols? Thank you so much, truly, my lord..."
Klaus barely managed to open his mouth.
"...I'll consider it."
Klaus couldn't put his current emotion into words.
It was... yes. Uncomfortable. A complex, uncomfortable feeling that was difficult to express with a single word.
Carrying the fruits, Klaus headed back to the hideout where Thirin waited.
When he opened the door, Thirin was still in the same spot, staring through the hole in the wall. Like a hunting dog that never tired.
Confirming that Klaus had entered, Thirin turned her head.
Klaus set the fruits down on the table beside her and said,
"Eat these. The residents gave them to me out of gratitude."
"Hmmm, I see."
Despite her words, Thirin didn't take her eyes off the carriage she was monitoring.
Klaus couldn't get a read on the woman in front of him.
'Now that I think about it...'
Thirin had claimed she received an oracle telling her to watch the carriage heading east.
'An oracle.'
An oracle descended from the Pantheon.
The Pantheon.
The hall of ten thousand gods.
The place where countless deities conveyed their divine will through proxies.
And the oracle that had come from there.
Theology 101 had been a required liberal arts course at the imperial military academy. The history of the empire and the Pantheon were inextricably linked.
Klaus had learned it all.
Before the empire, countless gods had maintained their own denominations and temples, sometimes warring with one another, sometimes merging.
In those days, the gods had intervened aggressively in mortal affairs.
They brought rain during droughts, lifted plagues, and bestowed blessings upon heroes to found dynasties.
But after the empire's rise, the countless gods were unified under the single name of the Pantheon.
Of course, they hadn't unified peacefully.
Some gods and their denominations resisted and were annihilated. Some chose to be forgotten. Others crossed over to unknown lands beyond the empire.
As time passed, the gods gradually fell silent, and the frequency of oracles plummeted.
By Klaus's era, oracles had become rare occurrences.
Even when they did descend, they came in vague, symbolic forms that left plenty of room for interpretation, such as 'The sun shall rise from the east.'
Yet this woman had drawn forth an oracle so concrete and specific for the personal purpose of locating a missing child?
Klaus finally realized the truth.
He had been wrong about everything.
A witch in league with a fallen priest?
Ridiculous. The gods would never answer the impious.
This woman... was not a witch. Rather, she was an incomprehensible being who received the gods' bizarre and perverse favor.
Perhaps she truly was a saintess of one of the myriad gods, just as she claimed.
Klaus's discomfort grew even stronger.
Thirin's sharp senses couldn't possibly miss such a subtle shift.
She glanced at his face and said,
"What's with you, Mr. Stalker? You look like someone just killed your dog."
"......"
"Did you get depressed because you couldn't catch the scent of the woman you're stalking?"
"...It's not that."
"Sure it isn't. That's the face of a man dying from sexual frustration. You don't need a woman's socks, do you?"
"You damn—"
Klaus unintentionally spat out a curse.
"......!"
He was shocked at himself for uttering profanity in front of a woman. After all, he was an educated nobleman.
"......"
How would this woman react?
Would she be surprised? Or angry?
But Thirin's reaction completely exceeded his expectations.
"Oh... You can say things like that too?"
She sounded rather intrigued. No, more than that—she sounded downright delighted.
Klaus had no idea why this woman was reacting this way.
There was no way he could have known.
Thirin was from the Peninsula.
And on the Peninsula, curses were the ultimate compliment, carrying the meaning of 'I admire your teabagging skills.'
Thirin was feeling a dark, insidious pleasure from the fact that she held control over Klaus's emotions.
With just a few words, the strict, by-the-book officer crumbled instantly.
Now that he thought about it, this guy had even shed tears in front of her before.
Thirin looked at Klaus and licked her lips.
'He definitely has sandbag potential...'
Klaus, seeing the way the corners of her eyes curved above her mask, thought,
'She's completely out of her mind...'
It couldn't be helped. From an outside perspective, she was nothing more than a crazy bitch who laughed when someone cursed at her.
Klaus thought to himself.
Where in the world is there a saintess like this?
'A saintess of the tongue...?'
Klaus shuddered at his own terrible naming sense.
Thirin's titles continued to show their potential for expansion today as well.
"Found it."
This is an image of Thirin (In reality she doesn't dress like this;; It's just my desire reflected...)
This is an image of Klaus!
