Good Changes, Bad Changes
It went without saying that one could not treat the priests and the holy knights as equals.
The holy knights had been built strong from the start, men who had cultivated their bodies with unwavering discipline.
They might have been overseeing the priests' physical training, but there were limits to what they could do. They had never once dropped to the level where the current priests now found themselves, after all.
"About the gym I mentioned before… that is, the indoor training hall. How is it coming along?"
"It's about halfway done, and we've started bringing in the equipment you recommended, Brother Kyle. The only concern is that looking over those machines, they seem a bit much for the priests."
The deputy commander was right. Planks during prayer—sure, that was a fine thing. A welcome change. But planks alone were never going to transform that pathetic stamina overnight.
What they needed was a full-scale overhaul—no, a full-scale training regimen. Starting with bodyweight work and building up, step by step. Only then could they eventually move on to free weights and cardio together.
Fortunately for Kyle, he had one outstanding member of his gym.
"Don't worry, Brother Kyle. The Commander and the Deputy Commander are already putting their backs into it, and I'll keep pushing the priests whenever I get the chance."
She might have been weaker than the priests, but in sheer effort and willpower, no one was stronger than the Saintess. Just a moment ago she had stood before the priests and said as much.
"Brothers and sisters. We who serve God have a duty to strive—from the weakest places to the strongest. Heart and body both. A steadfast heart brings peace to the people, and a strong body forges yet another kind of faith in them."
And then she had dropped and done push-ups right there in front of them. Watching her hold perfect form while still draped in those long, flowing robes, Kyle had found himself clapping before he even realized it.
The priests had looked thoroughly stunned. Here they were still gasping through basic bodyweight exercises, and the Saintess was nailing them. The rep count might not have been high, but her form was flawless.
Even the knights standing behind her had looked quietly impressed.
His member, the one who used to struggle with a single push-up, had changed. What could possibly be more delightful than that? What could possibly make him prouder?
If the Saintess could do it, there was no reason the priests couldn't. They could. No—they had to. The Saintess had done it, so of course the priests would too. Absolutely.
"Saintess. When you have a moment later, would you please pass along that they must not skip the exercises I outlined? If they stick to it, the priests' condition will improve far beyond what it is now."
Before leaving the Holy Order, Kyle handed the deputy commander a memo listing the basic core and strength bodyweight movements, plus a bit of cardio. He had even drawn detailed illustrations in case anything was hard to follow. That part, at least, should be fine.
What remained was how hard the priests would work, and how well they would keep up.
At John Nassen, these things were so elementary they got skipped over as a waste of time. But the priests here were ordinary people—ordinary people trying to reclaim their health. For them, the basics were more than enough. They were essential.
With the knights on hand, he wasn't too worried about the overall picture. The one thing that still niggled at him was form. No matter how much you trained, bad form cut the results in half. Half would be lucky—sloppy form could actively wreck the body.
"Saintess. Please make sure they do it exactly as I wrote. I drew pictures, so they have to follow them. Even if it's hard, even if it's a hassle, even if they don't understand."
At Kyle's relentless emphasis, the Saintess nodded vigorously. "Yes!" The perfect posture of a model member who followed her trainer's instructions as hard as she could.
"Brother Kyle really is such a good person."
On the road back to the Academy, the Saintess took Kyle's hand gently as she said it. Kyle blinked, silently asking why, and she smiled.
"It isn't just me you're thinking of. You're thinking of the brothers and sisters of the Holy Order too. You're concerned for their health—and even though you aren't one of us, you're more passionate about it than anyone in the Order."
"I'm just grateful you see it that way. Honestly, some people might think a complete outsider is only causing trouble for the Order."
"Not at all! Never! You're only acting out of goodwill, Brother Kyle. Everyone in the Order knows that, so none of them would ever think such a thing!"
Then that was a relief. Kyle murmured as much, smiling along with her.
In truth, calling it pure, reasonless goodwill left a slight prick of conscience.
I was hoping they'd improved a lot more. Still too early, I guess.
He had expected the Saintess herself to show no progress after three months. Looking at the Order, though, the situation there was hardly any different. One-on-one John Nassen training it was not, so some lag was understandable—but this was still far too slow.
Deep down, Kyle had been half-hoping he might one day see combat priests again, the kind that had vanished long ago. At this rate, though, getting them up to knight level would take years.
He wanted to inject John Nassen-style training into them as soon as possible, but he couldn't just barge into the Order's business. The remaining option was to keep stimulating and prodding the priests through the Saintess.
Surely they wouldn't whine that they couldn't lift weights when even the Saintess was doing it.
The thought only sharpened his reasons for advancing the Saintess's health even further.
So next time, Saintess… let's aim for a hundred push-ups. No—fifty will do for now.
If she had overheard that thought, she would have shrieked and fainted on the spot.
"…Ah."
He must have dozed off. He hadn't felt tired, so maybe it was just that his mind had finally relaxed.
He sat up in a hurry and found his eyes meeting the Saintess's—she had been watching him the whole time.
"You're awake?"
"How long was I out?"
"Not long. About thirty minutes?"
"I'm sorry. In front of you, Saintess…"
"Not at all. Watching you sleep so peacefully was actually rather nice."
Please tell me I didn't snore. Or talk in my sleep. His sleeping habits weren't that bad, but the anxiety lingered all the same.
"Brother Kyle."
Yes, Saintess? Did I snore? Did I mumble something weird? Something strange—
"Her Highness the Fifth Princess isn't as bad a person as all that."
Why was the princess coming up all of a sudden?
Even as the question formed, Kyle listened carefully to what came next.
"She's just… a little different from other people."
"Only a little different?"
"…I'll correct myself. Quite a bit different. Yes. I admit it. She's a strange person."
Strange enough that even the Saintess said so. The Fifth Princess really was a piece of work. At that level, even the Emperor would probably just shake his head. Or would he? Parents always took their children's side, didn't they?
"You seem to know Her Highness rather well, Saintess."
"It's been a while. We've been friends since back then."
The idea of the princess and the Saintess as friends was hard to picture. Position aside, their personalities and the way they carried themselves could not have been more different. Opposites. That was the word. The two of them matched in almost nothing.
"She was like that from the first day I met her. She had this quality that left everyone around her flustered."
"So she's been putting people in awkward spots since then."
"Ahaha. Yes. She has. She really has. I've been put in plenty of awkward spots myself."
A quiet smile touched the Saintess's lips, as if she were remembering those days. She claimed the princess had embarrassed her often, yet she was smiling like that—which meant one of two things. Either the awkwardness had never been that serious, or the Saintess simply had a heart as wide as the sea.
In Kyle's view, it was definitely the latter. Yulika was not a woman who did anything by half measures.
"But why bring this up all of a sudden?"
"Lately Her Highness has been clinging to your side to a degree that feels… excessive."
That was true enough. Right now she was simply gone on assignment to the north. The moment she came back, she would no doubt start showing up at the Academy every other day again. Why a woman who had already graduated kept wandering in and out was beyond him. Didn't a princess have a schedule? He wished she would just stay away.
And every time she comes, she keeps yelling, "I want mine too!"
It was enough to drive a man out of his mind—especially if anyone else overheard. And if those words got passed around, twisted, and eventually reached the Emperor's ears…
"It must be hard on you. Sometimes it must even make you angry. I'm not going to tell you to just endure it. I only wanted you to know that there's no malice in Her Highness's actions."
"I know that. I do know. The problem is that she takes it too far."
"It's true, so I don't really have a response…"
He was the one having a hard time, so why did the Saintess look more deflated than he did? Kyle deliberately put on his brightest smile and spoke as if it were nothing at all.
"It's fine. She's a capricious sort, isn't she? Her interest could vanish just as suddenly."
"I hope so."
Perhaps she simply knew Yulika too well. For once, there was no certainty in the Saintess's reply.
"Well, it doesn't bother me. I have you, after all, Saintess."
"Pardon?"
"You said so yourself. That you would stand in her way for me."
"Ah… yes. I did say that, but… will I really be any help?"
"Of course you will. Just hearing you say you'll do it gives me strength."
"Unlike Her Highness, I'm still weak, and I can't even exercise properly yet."
"I believe the will to try—the resolve—is more important than anything."
Physical specs on top of that would be the cherry on the sundae, but there was no helping it. Right now, the Saintess's heart alone was more than enough to make him grateful.
"I will trust you completely, Saintess."
At Kyle's sincere words, the Saintess looked away without meaning to.
She had felt it for a while now—this unaccountable goodwill and trust of his was a little overwhelming. At the same time, she thought, it wasn't so bad. It was actually rather nice.
And beyond that, another feeling settled firmly into place.
When someone offered you trust and belief, you were meant to answer it. If you were believed in, if you were trusted, then you had to put in the effort yourself. There was no need to overthink it. It was the natural response.
She was not abandoning her duty as Saintess. She was simply repaying faith with faith.
Just as he does for me… I will do the same for Brother Kyle.