She Was an Atheist, But She Is a Saint

The world was peaceful.

At least, that was how it felt to me.

After all, I had already died once.

In my previous life, I was an ordinary college student. I didn’t believe in any gods or religions. I lived a perfectly normal life, the kind you could find anywhere. Then one day, while I was crossing the street, a truck slammed into me. The next thing I knew, I had reincarnated into this new world.

A world of swords and magic. A classic fantasy setting straight out of a storybook.

At first I was terrified. I had no idea what was going on. But after a few years, I realized something important: this place was far better than my old life.

My new parents loved me. My older brother doted on me. The village was small and cozy, and everyone got along. There were no trucks, no exhausting part-time jobs, and no soul-crushing college entrance exams. Just peaceful days filled with the scent of grass and the laughter of children.

I decided then and there that I would live a quiet, ordinary life in this world. No grand ambitions. No desire for power or fame. Just the simple joy of waking up every morning to a warm breakfast and the sound of birds singing outside my window.

That was my only wish.

But the world had other plans.

I stared blankly at the glowing letters floating in front of me.

What the hell is this?

I had never once prayed to a god in either of my lives. I was an atheist ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through and through. Yet here I was, suddenly appointed as the Saintess by some goddess I’d never even heard of.

The villagers around me had already fallen to their knees, tears streaming down their faces as they worshipped the miracle before them. My mother was sobbing with joy. My father looked like he might faint from pride. Even my usually cool-headed brother was trembling with emotion.

Only I stood there, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠frozen in complete disbelief.

This has to be a mistake. There’s no way I’m the Saintess. I don’t even believe in gods!

But the divine message didn’t disappear. It hovered stubbornly in the air, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shining with golden light as if to say, This is your destiny whether you like it or not.

I wanted to scream.

I just wanted to live a peaceful life. I wanted to grow up quietly in this village, maybe open a small bakery someday, and spend my days baking bread and eating cake. That was all. Why did I have to be the one to fight the Demon King?

The church officials arrived the very next day.

They came in a grand procession of white carriages adorned with holy symbols, their robes fluttering dramatically in the wind. The head priest, an old man with a long white beard, approached me with tears in his eyes and declared in a booming voice:

“At last! The Saintess has appeared after hundreds of years! The Goddess has not abandoned us!”

The villagers cheered. My family looked at me with eyes full of awe and expectation. And I… I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.

I don’t want this. I really, really don’t want this.

But no one asked for my opinion.

Before I knew it, I was being whisked away to the Holy Capital. They dressed me in pure white robes, placed a golden circlet on my head, and paraded me through the streets like some kind of trophy. People lined the roads by the thousands, throwing flowers and shouting praises.

“Saintess! Saintess!”

Their voices echoed like thunder.

I smiled awkwardly and waved at them, all while screaming internally.

Someone please wake me up from this nightmare.

That night, alone in the luxurious room they had given me in the grand cathedral, I finally ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let out the frustration I had been holding in.

“This is bullshit!”

I punched the pillow as hard as I could. Feathers exploded everywhere.

I had the body of a delicate young girl now, but my soul was still that of a twenty-year-old Korean man who used to binge-watch action movies and play fighting games until dawn. My fighting instincts were still very much intact.

Which made this whole situation even more ridiculous.

A Saintess was supposed to be elegant, graceful, and holy. She was meant to heal the sick with a gentle touch and inspire hope with her mere presence.

But me?

I was the kind of person who would rather solve problems with my fists.

“I don’t even know how to use holy magic…”

As soon as the words left my mouth, another window appeared before my eyes.

I stared at the window in silence for a long moment.

Then I slowly raised my fist and looked at it.

“…This is definitely not what I had in mind when they said ‘Saintess.’”

The gentle, elegant, holy Saintess everyone expected?

Yeah, that wasn’t me.

I was going to be the Saintess who solved everything with a single, devastating punch.

I sighed deeply and flopped back onto the bed, feathers still drifting through the air around me.

“I just wanted to live quietly…”

But it seemed the Goddess had other ideas.

Fine. If that was how it was going to be, then I would protect the peaceful life I wanted.

Even if I had to beat the Demon King to a pulp with my own two hands.

I clenched my fist tightly.

A faint golden light began to glow around it.

…This might actually be kind of fun.