The Saintess (1)

The only god of this world. Her hometown, the place where she had been born and raised since childhood. In the Church of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sun God, there had long been a single prophecy passed down through the ages. In the distant future, when chaos would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once again descend upon the world, a being stronger, nobler, and braver than anyone else would appear. That person would become the hero, confront the Demon King who had resumed his rampage, and seal him away.

In truth, this was a prophecy that had been upheld for hundreds of years, and everyone across the continent had grown up hearing the tale, always nurturing dreams within their hearts. Or perhaps, in a way, it wasn’t so much a dream as it was a delusion. The new hero will surely be wonderful! The hero who appears next will be stronger and braver than anyone! He’ll be as noble and lofty as a prince riding a white horse! The kind of wild fantasy children often indulge in. They would sketch out their ideal hero in their minds and arbitrarily expect the finished product to match. Since children grew up hearing the heroic exploits of past heroes from a very young age, like fairy tales, it was only natural for them to hold such expectations.

And the same was true for the saintess. No, because she had been born and raised in the church, her admiration and anticipation for the hero could only be even greater. Since she believed in the Sun God’s light more than anyone, it was only natural that she would believe the hero foretold by Him would also be perfect.

That was why the first impression of the hero she finally met was… utterly the worst. So bad it defied description.

“Hello.”

“I’m Luke, newly selected as the hero.”

He hadn’t done anything in particular. He had simply offered a light, extremely polite greeting. Yet despite that, Yulise couldn’t help but feel revulsion. Because behind him, countless fragments of sin were overflowing. The trail of crimes he had piled up until now, and would continue to pile up in the future.

As the saintess, she could, albeit imperfectly, perceive the sins of others. And when she looked at the hero, that clumsy power had manifested at its maximum. Even a serial killer who had murdered dozens, even the boss of a massive dark organization, did not carry such sin. The only ones who scattered such darkness were the forces of the Demon King, officially designated as enemies by the goddess. So of course she had to suspect him.

Even if he had truly drawn the Holy Sword and been chosen as the hero, a first impression that terrible made it impossible not to deny it. That was why Yulise concluded he must have used some kind of sorcery. That he was an enemy spy who had infiltrated the hero’s position through some means. Or perhaps an executive of the Demon King’s army. She wanted to believe it. She did believe it.

Of course, later she would realize that those fragments of sin were merely an illusion caused by a curse… But by the time she understood that, it was already far too late. Far, far too late.

The hero’s party was riddled with anxiety from the start, but the departure proceeded nonetheless. Since he had already been officially selected as the hero in a public ceremony, they couldn’t retract it even if they wanted to. Naturally, the atmosphere within the forcibly assembled team was anything but pleasant.

“I still can’t believe it. Is that man really the hero?”

“There must be some mistake…”

Whenever the hero left his seat for a moment, conversations badmouthing him frequently arose. Like the saintess, the others also had a decent eye for people. It seemed they had all sensed something unpleasant. An inexplicable chill, discomfort, and suspicion, plus the convenient justification of “fragments of sin.” It was more than enough to suspect and hate one person.

After some time passed, he had already been treated as a confirmed spy of the Demon King’s army.

“This won’t do. How about applying some psychological pressure? That might make his true nature come out.”

“That sounds good.”

So it was only natural that such a suggestion would emerge. Apply psychological pressure to force his true self to surface. Or secretly urge him from behind to voluntarily leave the hero’s party. In other words, they were pushing for a forced resignation. It was a truly vicious plan, but at the time, they had nothing better. No one would want to travel with someone who gave them chills just by approaching, whose every word and gesture seemed suspicious.

From then on, the hero began to be nitpicked for every little reason. He was scolded for not swinging his sword well enough, frowned at because the flow of his mana felt unpleasant, and assigned the most grueling tasks like dismantling monsters. Yulise had also participated in this.

When he was injured, she would deliberately use just a little less holy power so his wounds healed more slowly. When he was covered in a moderate poison, she would refuse to purify it with the absurd excuse that her holy power was depleted. Such days continued for half a year. A full six months.

*

Six months had passed. Yulise thought the man called the hero was quite tenacious. Even though the provocations were trivial, the fact that he didn’t quit despite constant groundless criticism showed it. She knew well that what truly wore a person down wasn’t a single massive ordeal, but small, persistent stress. Normally, applying pressure like this would eventually make someone’s true nature burst out. But the other party didn’t.

He occasionally showed irritation, but for the most part he simply wore a faint smile and continued the journey. Because of that, her suspicion only deepened day by day. Why? They had kept pressuring him, yet he remained unchanged. Shouldn’t it be time to stop suspecting him?

One might think so, but from her perspective it was different. There had to be… something.

She concluded that he was hiding his true nature as much as possible because he had some ulterior motive. That he was enduring this pressure because there was something he needed to obtain from within the party. At least, that was what she thought. She was absolutely convinced that Luke was a spy for the Demon King’s army.

That was why—

Swoosh—!!

“!!”

When the one called the hero was sliced clean in half by the minotaur, she couldn’t hide her shock.

“……!”

It had happened in an instant. After a hard-fought battle, they had finally cut off both of the creature’s horns and were cheering in victory. The beast had finally dropped to its knees, and they had regained their mental composure. The moment everyone was certain of victory—

The creature had seized that tiny gap in their awareness and swung its axe with terrifying speed. All that remained was a vivid diagonal line of fresh blood and the hero’s upper body floating in the air. The cleanly severed cross-section of his torso. Blood and organs were beginning to spill downward, unable to resist gravity. The flesh that hadn’t yet realized it had been cut still twitched, releasing a grotesque sight. Even for the saintess, the sight of his severed spine laid completely bare was deeply shocking.

No one had expected it. No one had been able to react. A blow that should have been an instant kill had been aimed precisely at the gap created by their suspicion. And of all people, the one who had seemed least likely to die had been the first to fall. It was only natural that Yulise’s mind went blank for a moment.

In that silence filled with shock, where no one could react—

The hero muttered.

“My—30—sacrifice—return.”

It was just a single, light murmur. The distance was too great for the words to be heard clearly. Even aside from that, her mind had not been calm enough to register anyone’s voice. All she could tell was that he had muttered something, and that because of it, a bizarre miracle had occurred.

Shing!

In an instant, the severed body began to return to its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠original state. The organs that had been sliding downward rose back up, and the scattered crimson blood was sucked back into his body. The fatal wound that even the saintess could not have healed, one that should have caused instant death, was recovering in the blink of an eye. As if time itself had been reversed. It took less than a single second for the bisected hero to return to a perfectly intact body.

“What?!”

“What the hell was that just now?”

Shocked exclamations burst out from all around, but the hero cut them off with a single sentence.

“…Let’s deal with the problem in front of us first.”

His face was filled with exhaustion. Still, they followed his words and finished off the creature. There would be time to ask questions after everything was over. Fortunately, defeating the minotaur was relatively easy. That unexpected strike had simply been too powerful; its movements themselves were as predictable as before. It didn’t take long to bring the minotaur down.

Thud!

With the rather shocking opponent collapsed, the hero also fell to the ground as if his strength had given out. Having had his body split in half, it was possible he was mentally exhausted. But their patience was not deep enough to leave him like that. Especially since even Yulise, who might have stepped forward for him, was not present at this moment…

Grab!

Kamilla seized the hero by the collar and hauled him up. Her eyes were a chaotic mix of confusion and irritation. Behind her, Adel and Lily stared at him with piercing glares.

“Hero… what the hell was that? Didn’t you say it would calm down once we cut off both horns?”

“What was that just now? Your body was cut clean in two… how are you still alive?”

“No… that is… well…”

Bewilderment rose on the hero’s face. His sweat-drenched, exhausted features were full of discomfort. In the original timeline, after she had returned… she would have stepped in to mediate the situation. Seeing how obviously tired he was, she might have sent the party members away and told him to rest first.

“Um, everyone… could we talk about this later…? I’m a bit tired right now…”

But the her of that time could not do that.

“No. That won’t do.”

“According to the books in the temple, black magic includes many extraordinary spells that defy common sense. And that regenerative power that defies common sense…”

As she had said before, what destroys a person is not a single massive ordeal, but the small stresses that follow persistently afterward. Just as even a giant tree that withstands multiple storms can be devoured and toppled by beetles that can be crushed with a human finger, a person’s mind is also ruined by constant gnawing.

With a face full of disgust, the saintess said,

“Speak. Did you perhaps use filthy black magic?”

The sight of him at that moment… looked as if he would collapse at any second.