Mionia the Reluctant Nun
Mionia was a nun. Her mother had endured a difficult labor, and in desperation, she had vowed that if both child and mother survived, she would dedicate the baby to the gods. Mionia was born safely, and true to the promise, she was offered up. Without any say in the matter, she became a nun—just like most medieval folk who had no control over their own futures.
The problem was, Mionia had barely a shred of faith.
'Sigh. Life.' Mionia leaned indifferently against the convent wall, gazing out at the street. All she could see were women walking arm-in-arm with men—ordinary girls from ordinary homes, married to ordinary husbands, living ordinary lives as housewives.
'...Lucky them.'
Mionia envied that simple life. The nun's existence felt suffocatingly rigid to her. She hated rising at dawn for prayers, hated always having to act demure and modest. Especially the clothes! The abbess was particularly strict about the younger nuns' attire. Nuns had sworn to dedicate everything to the divine. With eyes only for the gods, they couldn't tolerate outfits that drew prying gazes. Even more so since the Heavenly Lord's faith often depicted the deity in feminine form—widely seen as a goddess. Imagine a nun in slutty clothes seducing men while the goddess watched from above? She'd deserve a lightning bolt, and no jury would convict.
So nun habits had to be solemn and neat, no exceptions.
"Mionia! Can't you wear your hood properly? Your hair's sticking out again!"
"Ow! Come on, a little hair's no big deal!"
"And did you cinch your top again? What's with that skin-tight fit!"
"I didn't! Blame my boobs for getting bigger!"
"You should've wrapped them in bandages to hide those vulgar udders!"
"What'd you say, you hag?!"
Mionia was the convent's resident troublemaker. She bickered daily with the other nuns, grabbing hair and trading near-fatal insults. They called her devil spawn, a lewd whore—but she felt wronged. Had she chosen to be a nun? No, her parents had dumped infant her on the temple steps!
All Mionia wanted was to quit, snag a decent guy, pop out kids, and build a family. But the abbess wouldn't let her go. "You're dedicated to the gods," she insisted. "Serve until death."
Her logic was flimsy. The Heavenly Lord never endorsed slavery or forced service from the unwilling. But the abbess was a greedy human. Why release free labor she could legally exploit? No way.
"Mionia. Finish every task I assign, and I'll grant your secularization."
"Really?"
"Of course. I swear on the Heavenly Lord."
Desperate to escape, Mionia obeyed meekly. But the abbess's "quests" were insanely tough—way beyond expectations. Were they even solvable? Or had she never intended to follow through?
Her demand? Participation in an assassination.
"Me? Assassinate someone?!"
"Tsk. Assassination? I said assist in divine retribution."
She avoided the word "assassination" even on her deathbed, but to Mionia, it was the same thing. Divine retribution? Give me a break—misusing the Lord's name to kill?
"No need to worry, Mionia. The target's a shameless fraud. The Lord will reward us, not punish."
How do you know that? The doubt burned in her throat, but she swallowed it. She already knew the abbess's shady scheme. Backing out now might mean worse than convent lockdown.
"Go. Do your duty."
"...Yes, Abbess."
With her secret orders, Mionia left the convent and met her contact.
"Heard the full story?"
"No, not yet..."
"Our mark is a monk called [Takarion of the Golden Finger]. He's corrupted eyes and ears with his heretical gospels."
Mionia gulped. She'd never imagined getting dragged into murder...
"What do I do?"
"Treat Takarion to a meal, Sister."
"...That's it?"
"Yes. We'll poison the food. By meal's end, he'll face the Lord's judgment."
From the assassin's words, Mionia realized why she'd been chosen.
"Word is, Takarion's weak for beauties."
"Beauties?"
"They say you're quite the free spirit in the convent..."
Ridiculous—they were openly demanding a honey trap from a nun. Mionia was floored but couldn't deny it. Sure, she could seduce Takarion into dinner.
"One warning: No betrayal. There are other traps set for him besides us."
A threat: Don't get caught in the crossfire. Mionia nodded, doubts swirling. Was aiding assassination really right for secularization? An illiterate peasant wouldn't question it. But she'd been educated as a nun—taught scripture, proper living.
Lord, what should I do...?
"What have you done to that sacred habit?!"
The monks foamed at the mouth over the nun's outfit. Harumph! That wasn't a habit! How could something so revealing be nun wear?! And her body was genuinely lewd. Lewd body in lewd clothes? Conclusion: lewd nun incarnate.
Unlike the monks, though, Ian was just impressed. Whoa, nun cosplay! Used to modern media's twisted nun tropes, he saw nothing odd. Sure, it was revealing, but by his standards? Comic-con ready, zero weirdness.
"It's even more infuriating that it's pretty," Belenca said coolly, arms crossed.
Kira squinted. "Pretty? Weird taste."
"It's the habit mods. Imagine it as a normal dress. Not bad, right?"
"...Huh."
True enough. Nun base threw it off, but solid fabric? Stunning design. Kira realized she found the slutty nun habit... attractive. And panicked. Why? Why pretty? Blame Ian's staring. ...Hmph. I'd rock it better.
The outfit wowed Ian and the girls. For Takarion? Near-fatal stimulation!
Huff! Huff! The monk panted raggedly. A shut-in otaku scribbling light novels—er, gospels—he'd described gorgeous women freely. Fun times! But real girls? Total normie-chaser.
"Brother Takarion! I devoured your gospels! I'm Mionia, your devoted fan!"
"Uh... y-yeah... uh-huh."
"Heard you were passing through—had to meet you! This is like a dream!"
As the nun approached, Takarion's face exploded red. She rivaled Belenca or Kira in beauty. Way out of a basement-dweller's league!
"To celebrate, let me treat you to dinner? If you're free?"
"Uh... well..."
Apple-from-tree vibes, no doubt.
"Hey! Sister Mionia! Mind your manners! Offering our Takarion food in that shameless getup—!"
"QUIET!!!"
Monks piped up; Takarion instantly defended her. Betrayal stung them deep...!
"Takarion! Siding with that harlot?!"
"Watch your tongue! Insult Sister Mionia, and I won't stand for it!"
"Oh, Takarion!"
Mionia hugged him lightly. Takarion and monks alike lost it. Driving fans and haters mad—Mionia was a true superstar.
"Hm..." Ian tilted his head, watching. Takarion was respectable, sure. But blatant clinging? That hot? Clinging to a guy in sexy clothes wasn't casual—not even for girls. Required real intent. Whatever that intent was.
Mionia had eyes, right? No way she fancied a pauper-hunter like Takarion?
"Think she's after his organs?"
"Enchanted wizard?" Belenca narrowed her eyes. Drbosi Castle flashbacks made mages suspect first.
Ian shrugged. Organ joke aside, he had no clue. Genuine fandom? Possible.
Kira muttered, "She might have an agenda."
"Huh?"
"Her actions. Doesn't feel sincere. Like acting?"
Pro actress Kira spotted the off notes. But "slightly awkward" didn't justify grilling her.
"Let's go! Dinner time!"
"You're the best, Takarion!"
Takarion was hooked. Ian trailed quietly.
Murder is sin. All killings are wicked, but some are extra heinous—like killing clergy.
Obviously, Heavenly faithful dreaded hell's torments. But life forces sin sometimes. Starving, you kill a passerby for their food? "Unavoidable" sins weigh lighter, they say.
Killers latched onto this. Context alters guilt!
'Accidental kill? Not our fault, right?'
Stabbing? Murder. Poison? Especially disguised as exotic ingredients?
'Whoa, died from novelty food? No way!'
Eye-cover-mouth. But killers are desperate. Even slim guilt reduction? They grab it.
Takarion's plotters thought the same. Elites trashed him as cult fraud, but to underlings? Cleric enough. Didn't wanna stain hands with holy blood! Elites felt queasy too. Solution?
'Use empire-unknown poison!'
'Poison even clerics don't know!'
'Lightens our sin, yeah?'
Harmless-looking ingredients hiding deadly toxin. They scoured for matches. Pufferfish? Too famous. Sprouted potatoes? Weak. Filtering... they found a red, round veggie.
'This dangerous?'
'Yup! Deadly food!'
The veggie? [Tomato].
'Looks harmless. Really lethal?'
'Wanna try?'
'Crazy? Testing kills the "accident"! We just serve; he dies unknowingly!'
'Right! Close call!'
Rumors: All who ate [Tomato] died. Takarion would too!
Assassins prepped tomato soup, awaiting Mionia. 'Kekeke... To hell, blabbermouth Takarion!'
The ruthless killers eyed his life—a candle in the wind!