The Saintess Runs Out of Patience
Church Headquarters — the Saintess's private prayer room.
"Ugh, this is seriously driving me insane..."
Sera muttered under her breath as she irritably set down her teacup.
She was at the point where, if she could truly return to the past, she wanted to smack her past self upside the head.
And really, how could she not be?
It was a situation practically engineered to get on her nerves.
Not long ago, word had arrived from the Lindemarck Ducal House.
The First Prince, who had been confined to the Detached Annex Palace, was finally going to be set free.
Which was why Sera had done everything in her power to drag Rian out of the room he'd been holed up in.
She had coaxed and coddled him, reasoned with him until she was blue in the face, and genuinely believed he would come to his senses and step outside.
But this fool was still digging in his heels, refusing to budge from his room.
"I'm sorry... Sera... can't you give me just a little more time?"
"No, my Hero. I've explained this thoroughly already. The Holy Sword is merely resting for the time being—"
"I know... but... I don't want to be apart from Elysium..."
"Oh, for goodness' sake... fine, if that's what it takes, carry the Holy Sword with you. But you are never to draw it without my permission."
"C-can I really...?"
"Yes, of course. You're the Hero. The Holy Sword belongs to you, doesn't it?"
Sera had been anxious that Rian might pull some new stunt with the Holy Sword, but she judged that letting him keep it was better than having him barricaded in his room indefinitely.
And so—
"Well then, no more problems, right, my Hero?"
she had said, urging him out of the room.
But then—
"B-but is it really all right for me to go out looking like this?"
He had pulled that tearful face again and refused to come out!
Ah, seriously, why on earth did I pick this idiot as the replacement?
Absolute moron of a man.
Sera came so close to losing her mask on the spot that she had to grit her teeth, force down her fury, and summon a soft smile.
"Haha... and what could possibly be troubling you this time, my Hero?"
"W-well, you see... my face, it's..."
"Ah..."
The burn scar, starkly visible above his right eye.
For a man who had taken such pride in his looks, a disfiguring scar would have been devastating.
Irene had deliberately left the wound untreated, on the theory that as long as Rian looked like that, she'd stay glued to his side.
If she'd had the faintest idea the fool would go scampering straight off to the Prince instead, she would absolutely have healed it.
But how could anyone have predicted that?
Who would have imagined she'd betray Logan—that devoted, self-sacrificing man—and then turn around and betray Rian too?
No—knowing that woman's twisted psyche, she probably didn't even think of it as betrayal. To her, Logan, Rian, and Narciss were all hers. Every last one of them.
Regardless.
The priority now was talking this blockheaded Hero into cooperating.
"It's fine, my Hero. No one will think it's unsightly."
"H-how could they not!? It wasn't even from fighting the Demon King—it happened because of Elysium..."
"What are you saying? It happened during battle, didn't it?"
"What kind of nonsense is that? You were right there, you saw it with your own eyes! Elysium exploding...!"
"Yes, I saw it clearly. An explosion caused by the aftermath of the battle against the Demon King."
"...Huh?"
"The Church will publicly announce that your scar came from the battle with the Demon King. So there is absolutely no need to worry. If anything, people will call it heroic!"
"R-really...?"
"Yes. So come out of that room already, my Hero!"
"O-okay... I understand... but I'm truly sorry—could I have just a tiny bit more time? I need to collect myself..."
"Haah... only until today, then? You understand?"
"Y-yes... sorry..."
And so Sera had, at long last, succeeded in coaxing the fool into compliance.
"Tch... I need to move faster, not waste even a single day, and this is what I get..."
Truly, not a single thing was going according to plan.
She needed only to think back on the Council of State she had attended recently.
The Church had failed to distinguish itself there in the slightest.
No—in another sense, they had made a striking impression.
She had intended to use her signature charisma and warmth to win over the Neutral Faction nobles in the chamber, and beyond them even the handful of remaining nobles who still backed the Crown Princess.
Instead, the idiot Hero had gone and drawn the Holy Sword, blown himself up, and turned the whole scheme to foam.
'The Neutral Faction nobles already seem to be leaning the other way...'
According to her intelligence, rumors were rife that their leader, Lionel, had met privately with Anastasia.
'A duke like that would have seen through the fake Hero in an instant, of course...'
Rian's asinine behavior had driven Lionel's trust in the Church down to zero.
"Ha... and besides... what on earth is that woman thinking?"
Anastasia should have been scrambling to block Narciss's release at all costs—yet instead, she had personally petitioned the Emperor to let that degenerate Prince go free.
"There's no way that woman is doing it out of the goodness of her heart..."
Sera knew Anastasia's character all too well.
Despite occupying one of the highest positions in the Empire, the woman showed respect and courtesy to even the lowliest commoner, never once talking down to them. That was her true nature.
"Hmph. My eyes can't be fooled. You're the same kind of creature I am."
Which was exactly why she was so furious.
If anything, Sera considered herself superior to that woman—there was nothing about Anastasia that outclassed her.
And yet.
"Logan! Why on earth is that man clinging to the Crown Princess's side!?"
BANG!
Sera slammed her fist down on the desk, unable to contain her rage.
Just then—
Knock, knock.
Came a knock at the door.
Sera took a deep breath and smoothed her expression.
"Come in."
At her permission, a priest stepped inside wearing a grim look.
For a moment she wondered if he'd overheard her throwing her private tantrum—
He hadn't.
The trouble was the news he'd just received.
"I... what? Is that true...?"
Hearing the priest's report, Sera could only gape in disbelief.
The priest nodded, his face rigid.
"Yes... it is true... The Crown Princess has begun delivering a speech in the Central Plaza..."
"Ugh, this is driving me mad! This is exactly why I was trying to hurry things along!"
Sera found herself growing even angrier at Rian, still holed up in his room and whining to himself.
Arcadia Central Plaza — Imperial Capital.
"Citizens of the Empire! I stand before you today because there is something I wish to tell you frankly, face to face!"
Anastasia stepped onto a hastily assembled platform and began her address to the gathered crowd.
"As you all know, the Demon King has been vanquished—yet the Demon King's invasion has left deep wounds across every corner of our Empire!"
"Here in the capital of Arcadia, we were never directly attacked, so the damage is not visible on the surface. But life has grown harder than it was before, hasn't it? Now imagine the regions that endured direct assault!"
Anastasia laid out the soon-to-be-launched Imperial Reconstruction Project in plain terms—
simply enough that even citizens with no specialized knowledge could follow—
explaining why the project had to be carried out, and exactly how it would be done.
"I am sure no one welcomes added burdens on top of lives that are already hard and difficult. And yet, we have no choice."
"If we miss this moment, we will plunge into an abyss of despair—and in the end, far more people will suffer, and suffer far longer."
Perhaps because no one in the Empire had ever seen a member of the imperial family communicate so candidly, laying everything bare—
the crowd had initially grumbled at the word tax increase—
but the murmuring quickly died down, and the people listened to her speech with rapt attention.
"To lighten your burden as much as possible, the increase will be kept to the absolute minimum, and the necessary funds will be drawn from the nobility... and..."
Anastasia paused for a moment and swept her gaze across the crowd.
"The imperial family—including myself—will bear an even greater share. To that end, we have already made deep cuts to the budget of the Imperial Palace itself."
Many in the crowd were unfamiliar with itemized budgets and figures, so she could not walk them through every last detail—
but Anastasia explained everything as concisely and clearly as she could, so that anyone might understand.
"The funds raised this way will go not only toward the Imperial Reconstruction Project, but toward relief efforts as well. In my case, I must continue my duties here in the capital, so I cannot tour every region of the Empire—but I will visit the neglected corners of the capital itself and serve its people with all my strength."
Moved by Anastasia's sincere, stirring address, the crowd erupted in cheers.
"We understand! Gladly, for the sake of the Empire's future!"
"To think you would explain everything so patiently to the likes of us—thank you, truly!"
"Long live Her Highness the Crown Princess!"
Watching the crowd's fervent response, Anastasia let out a breath of relief.
She had worried the people might rage at the tax increase and spark a riot, but thankfully, they had understood her sincerity.
As her eyes moved across the cheering masses, Anastasia quietly turned her gaze to the man standing at her side.
Logan, too, wasn't making a show of it, but he wore a warm, gentle smile as he looked at her with unmistakable pride.
As if to say—
'I told you, didn't I? I knew you could do it, Anya.'
And so, her speech concluded in triumph.
Immediately after the speech, Anastasia—
made good on her word to the people and threw herself straight into relief work.
The imperial capital looked dazzling on the surface, but look closely at any corner of the city and you would find neglect everywhere—
the pitch-black depths of back alleys, the slums on the outskirts...
Which was why Renate, the loyal knight who shadowed her like a second shadow, couldn't help but worry.
"However I think about it, it is far too dangerous for Your Highness to go in person! Logan, talk some sense into her, quickly!"
Even Logan, who had proposed this whole plan in the first place, was caught off guard.
He had assumed Anastasia would deliver the speech and then return to the palace to work from there—
her insistence on going herself left him in a bind.
After all, from the planning stage onward, he had intended to handle the relief work and most of the public-facing duties personally.
And yet here she was—a woman of the highest rank in all the Empire—insisting on walking into the city's most hazardous quarters herself.
Anastasia showed not a trace of displeasure at their protests, and answered with quiet resolve.
"If we're going to do something, we should do it properly. And I want to take this chance to face, with my own eyes, everything I've pretended not to see all this time."
"Your Highness..."
Faced with the steely determination in Anastasia's voice, Logan did not try to persuade her the way Renate had.
Instead, he simply kept a sharper eye on her surroundings, determined that she should never fall into danger or difficulty, and threw himself into helping her work.
"Thank you so much! You're Logan of the Hero's Party, aren't you?"
"Ah... yes, that's me."
A girl who had just received a supply distribution bowed in thanks before asking him.
Logan was a little flustered, but nodded in answer.
As far as he knew, most people only remembered Hero Rian, Saintess Sera, and perhaps the mage Irene—so the fact that she recognized even him was a surprise.
"What a shocked face!"
"Ah, yes. Honestly, I'm not exactly the noticeable type..."
"Ahaha! What are you talking about? You're plenty impressive."
"Ah... thank you."
"No, we should be thanking you for providing such precious supplies. And actually... if Fiona hadn't told us, I wouldn't have even known your name!"
"Fiona...?"
Logan cocked his head, utterly unprepared for that name to come out of the girl's mouth.
Just then—
"Hey, Hanna! I told you not to go around saying my name!!"
an all-too-familiar voice rang out.
Logan whirled around in shock, his gaze snapping toward it.
"M-master...? WH—"
Before he could get a single proper word out—
the red-haired woman darted over like a shot, slung an arm around his shoulder, and ruffled his hair into a mess.
"Hah! Yep, it's me. Your master, you useless excuse for a disciple!"
And so, in a place he never could have imagined, Logan reunited with his master, Fiona.