The Corrupted Saint
"Hah..."
Seated at the desk in her director's office, Lee Sia, Director of the Korean Branch of the Order, let out a long, weary sigh over the report she had just received.
Only last night, she had learned that Ryeonhwa, an Apprentice Knight attached to the Korean Branch, had killed a Lower Demon on her own, without filing a single word of advance notice.
The problems were twofold: the Lower Demon's corpse had vanished without a trace, and Ryeonhwa had dragged a civilian — someone who knew nothing about demons — into the incident.
She had been every bit as talented as Sia herself once was.
An elite who had endured brutal knight training with outstanding marks, driven by a single-minded vow of vengeance against the demon that slaughtered her family.
She was skilled enough to rise as a promising talent in the Korean Branch — no, in the entire Order — but tragically, one fact had always held her back: she had never been chosen by the Holy Grail.
So she had tried hunting demons solo to build up a record, and that decision had left the first blemish on the career of Director Sia, who had rocketed through promotions in her mid-thirties to reach her current seat.
"Idiot girl..."
Crossing her shapely stockinged legs, Sia massaged her aching brow with one hand.
Ryeonhwa's punishment was already decided.
Expulsion.
Talented or not, anyone who caused problems had to be removed. Even if the Order tried to keep her on, the odds were high she would cause trouble again — and from the moment she'd been passed over by the Holy Grail, her value had already dropped.
The very instant Sia was about to finalize Ryeonhwa's dismissal from the Order—
Ring-ring.
The phone on her desk rang out.
"What is it?"
"D-Director, ma'am... the Order, the Order headquarters is calling."
When she picked up the receiver and asked irritably, her secretary answered in a trembling voice.
Order headquarters?
"Who is it?"
Her voice turned cautious, and the secretary replied.
"Th-the... the Saint, ma'am."
Her eyes flew wide open.
The Saint.
The Order's final arbiter, and the sole being capable of moving the Holy Grail — the symbol of the Order and the Order itself.
Though doctrine kept her from stepping into the public eye, she nonetheless wielded enormous influence across the entire world. For someone like her to make direct contact was an event of staggering significance.
"She's... connecting via video call..."
"Put her through, now!"
With a bark of command, Sia hastily uncrossed her legs, smoothed down her clothes, and rose from her seat.
"Hello there, Director Sia."
The next moment, a radiant figure appeared on the screen, calling her name in a gentle voice, wearing a smile more benevolent than anyone's.
Silver hair cascading down in lengths so long they nearly brushed the floor, defying gravity's claim.
Flawless porcelain skin, without so much as a speck of dust, let alone a wound.
She wore a plain white dress that evoked an air of pure, unworldly grace — though the hills revealed at its center boasted a size one could only call positively indecent.
"Your Holiness, I trust you have been well?"
Sia snapped off a crisp bow, answering in the Order's official tongue with the most reverent honorifics she could muster.
"Yes, thanks to you. There's no need to be so formal — won't you have a seat?"
When the Saint flashed a smile so beautiful it seemed it could melt the heart just to behold it, Sia's face grew only more reverent still.
She hesitated, then reluctantly sat, facing the Saint on the screen.
"I would love to talk with you at length, Director Sia, but you seem busy, so I'll keep it short and get to the point."
"Of course!"
The directorship of an Order branch was a position wielding power and authority greater than any nation's diplomat.
Even the President of South Korea, who knew of the demons' existence, could not treat Director Sia carelessly.
And that woman was now sweating bullets, sitting rigidly at attention like a fresh recruit on his first day of military service.
"I heard that recently, an Apprentice Knight by the name of Ryeonhwa committed a small transgression."
Ryeonhwa?
Why was that girl coming up here?
Sia's puzzlement curdled into barely concealed anxiety. Was she about to be interrogated over the matter?
"Y-Your Holiness, regarding that incident—"
"If you were planning to dismiss that child from the Order, I would ask that you reconsider."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"The Holy Grail has chosen her."
At the Saint's next words, Sia could not contain her astonishment, one shock after another.
"Ah— that— well—"
Flustered, Sia's mouth hung open for a moment before she remembered exactly what attitude she was expected to take.
"That is wonderful news. Haha... I certainly had no such intention. Ryeonhwa may have caused a problem, but she is an excellent Apprentice Knight. Dismissing talent like that would be a tremendous loss to the Order — I quite agree."
As though wiping away the irritation and fury she'd harbored toward Ryeonhwa mere minutes ago, Sia plastered on a perfectly crafted smile.
"Thank you. I'll be visiting Korea before long. I intend to let her drink from the Grail then. Her formal investiture as a Knight will be held at the same time."
"You're coming personally, Your Holiness?"
At the news that the Saint herself would travel all the way to Korea, Sia's eyes went round.
"Yes."
The Saint beamed, her smile like sunlight.
A dozen questions stirred in Sia's mind, but she masked them with a smile brimming with counterfeit delight.
"It will be an honor, Your Holiness. Then I shall have the pleasure of receiving you soon."
"Yes. I'll be in your hands then, Director."
Kzzt.
...Hm?
For an instant, the Saint's uniformly warm smile blurred as if drowned in static, then snapped back to normal.
Sia panicked, wondering if the connection was poor — but the video streamed on without issue, and she relaxed.
"No, the honor is entirely mine!"
"How spirited of you. Then I'll see you soon."
The moment the Saint waved her hand lightly and vanished from the screen, Sia snatched up the phone and demanded:
"Ryeonhwa — where is she?"
"How spirited of you. Then I'll see you soon."
The Saint trembled with terror as she watched a demon wearing her own exact face, seated in her chair, waving at the screen.
Swish.
"Hyaaack—!"
The screen went dark, and when the demon turned around wearing her face, a scream burst out of her unbidden.
Gazing at the smiling demon, the Saint was engulfed by a fear unlike anything she had ever known.
Within the Order, she was the one who possessed the strongest faith, belief, and courage of them all.
True to her station as the chosen one who could carry the Holy Grail, she also possessed martial might enough to prevail even against Archdemons.
It had been brief, but even when she crossed blades with Yurinom, the Demon of Death, first-ranked among the Archdemons, she had felt no fear.
But the being before her radiated a presence so overwhelming that, for the first time in her life, the Saint felt a despairing terror reach down into the very depths of her heart.
That demon, which had erupted from the Grail's chalice in the form of black liquid, had bound her in an instant.
Yes, she had let her guard down — but the sheer magnitude of a power that could neutralize the Order's single greatest warrior left the Saint entirely unable even to fathom the demon's strength.
How could a demon emerge from the Grail? How could a demon appear here, at the heart of the Order's most hidden and secure sanctuary? The questions were endless — but none of that mattered now.
The demon had stolen the Saint's own appearance and told the Korean Branch Director, just now, to have an Apprentice Knight named Ryeonhwa drink from the Grail.
She couldn't guess the demon's intent, but it was flatly impossible. Only she, chosen by God, could move the Grail—
Tap.
"It's been a while since I held this, too."
As if mocking the Saint's thoughts, the demon casually lifted the Holy Grail and studied it with eyes misted over in reminiscence.
"...That's impossible."
Confronted with a sight that could not be, that should never be, the Saint could barely contain her shock and horror.
"Wh-what are you? What are you, exactly?"
"Everyone who sees me always asks what I am. Fine — you asked for it, so I'll tell you. I am the Demon of ■■. ...See? You still can't comprehend it, can you? You never could."
Tee-hee, tee-hee...
The demon's mocking laughter echoed through the chamber where the Saint was held.
The Saint could not hear the demon's title.
Could not hear it at all.
But she understood well enough that a name she, the Saint herself, could not properly perceive was steeped in a darkness profound beyond measure.
"He wants the demons dead. And I intend to grant his wish. In a way, I'm on your side. Assuming his wish doesn't change."
His wish?
What the demon was thinking, what manner of being it was — the Saint couldn't even begin to guess.
With unhurried steps, the demon approached her, bound to the chair by black tendrils, things like tentacles.
She knew screaming was useless. She had long since exhausted her struggling.
As death, as darkness, as the demon drew slowly nearer, the Saint felt a dreadful agony — a deathlike terror gnawing away at her body bit by bit.
"Whatever you desire, it will not come to pass. God will never permit it."
Straining her eyes at the demon now mere inches away, the Saint spoke with defiant directness, a last flare of resistance.
"God? You mean that Grail over there?"
"Yes. God exists. That Grail is the proof. A gift of grace bestowed by God to destroy demons like you — that is proof of His existence."
Steadfast in her faith, the Saint proclaimed God's existence to the demon with uplifted, unflinching eyes.
Tee-hee...
Before the Saint's proud conviction, the demon — for some reason — only deepened its laughter, thick with derision.
"Then prove your faith. Show me this conviction of yours — that you will never bow to a demon."
"I will never submit to evil!"
The Saint shouted back without yielding.
Yes, she felt horror and dread — but her faith in God and the Order would not break.
That was precisely why the Saint could keep hold of herself and muster courage even before the demon's overwhelming presence.
The demon gazed down at her like that... and then, suddenly, smiled a satisfied smile.
"He adores beings like you — sublime and noble. And he loves nothing more than defiling beings like that."
"What do you—"
"I do wonder how long this generation's Saint will hold out."
What on earth is it going on about—
Slide... thunk!
"Nnghaak!?"
When the tendril pierced her forehead, the Saint's face contorted in agony.
Writhe...
The tendril that had entered the Saint's body began boring inward, seeping through her like water into cloth.
Her arms, her shoulders, her torso, her thighs, her legs — and finally her head, housing the brain that held her very self, the core of her being as a person.
"Ogogogogok—!! Kkhiiiieeek—!!!"
As her flesh and mind were devoured piece by piece by the darkness inside her, the Saint twisted and thrashed against her bindings.
Screaming a scream that would have appalled any of the faithful, weeping even as she screamed, the Saint resisted the demon she had spent her life denying — resisted to the very end.
God will...
Surely... sav... me...
"Faith?"
The demon burst out laughing, sneering at the struggling Saint.
"Willpower?"
Under the staining corruption that was stealing away her very existence, the Saint's struggles began to dwindle.
The tear-streaked face, the contorted muscles of her face, gradually went slack.
"A soul?"
Before long, as the Saint broke into a delighted, giggling giggle brimming with joy — khii-hihihit...♥ — the demon thought to itself:
She couldn't even endure as long as the previous generation's Saint.
"All of it — every last piece — is the existence of a single living being. And when that existence is devoured, a human made of blood and flesh cannot escape, no matter how they resist. Not from the physical form you call a body."
Thud.
The Saint's strength gave out, and her head dropped forward.
The demon crouched down in front of her, bringing itself to her eye level, and asked in a whisper:
"What are you, now? What is the purpose of your existence?"
"...I am."
The Saint spoke her first words in a low voice, then raised her face.
"I am Yoon Dohyun's devoted servant, yes♥ Ehehe!!"
A deranged smile, stretched so wide it seemed her lips would split, spread across the Saint's beautiful face.
Where once her features had overflowed with benevolence and gentle warmth, now they brimmed only with a smile that was warped and twisted beyond recognition — the face of a Saint subdued by darkness.
"From now on, whom do you serve?"
"Yoon Dohyun, ahah♥"
"And who is your god?"
"Yoon Dohyun—!!"
The Saint raised her voice high, renouncing without a shred of hesitation the faith that had once been her everything.
The conviction she would have defended with her very soul mere moments ago now pointed toward a different existence entirely.
"And what must you do for him?"
"To fulfill whatever he desires — that is my duty♥ I am prepared, at any moment, to offer this body of mine to satisfy his every want, hah♥"
Drool trailing from her lips, eyes glazed with the rapture of a zealot, the Saint grinned stupidly.
"Then you already know what you have to do from here, don't you?"
"Yes, of courseee♥"
Gazing upon the Saint whose existence had been completely unraveled and rewoven, the demon smiled in silence.
"The Fallen Saint — complete."
Leaving the newly reborn Saint, dyed through with evil, behind it, the demon departed.