The Saintess Has Fallen

From atop the city wall, I watched the burning city. Crimson tentacles stretched in every direction, smashing rooftops and shattering spires. It was as if a hideous nightmare had swallowed reality whole. It truly was.

The people scattered like ants. Even the endless screaming had grown familiar by now. Listen to anything long enough and it goes numb — that's simply how it works. At this point, I'd almost miss it if the screams stopped.

The wind carried hot ashes to me.

The touch against my cheek was faintly warm. Still, I didn't close my eyes. I didn't want to miss a thing. I wanted to keep gazing at this beautiful vista for as long as I possibly could.

Strangely, the knowledge that I myself had created this scene stirred nothing in me at all. It felt like something that had happened to a stranger.

Suddenly, a flood of old memories rose up.

Things from before I'd gained this body — from a far more distant past. A certain man's life, and a city filled with gray buildings. Every time I tried to hold on, it slipped through my fingers like water. Like a mirage.

I couldn't even remember whether it had been a dream or real, but at this point it didn't matter. That wasn't the important thing. It was a trivial affair, either way.

I leaned my back against the wall and slowly traced everything I'd been through. When it had all begun, I couldn't say even now. I simply came to my senses one day, reborn as a farmer's daughter named Violet.

An ordinary human. Not a single cheat ability to her name.

When the fields dried up, we starved all day; when it rained, the roof leaked. Hunger and the nobles' exploitation were simply daily life — but through it all, there was one child who quietly stayed by my side.

My precious childhood friend, Olivia.

A girl who'd grown up rolling in the dirt with me in the same village — smaller than I was, timid, but blessed with a bright, sun-like smile.

So the two of us left the village together and, hand in hand, knocked on the door of a convent. We'd believe in anything, as long as it fed us. That was the shape of our desperation.

"Violet, aren't you scared?"

The days of relentless rain.

I crouched in front of the door. What was I doing back then, again? Oh, right.

I remembered the question Olivia had asked. And what I said in reply.

"I am. But starving scares me more."

At my answer, she let out a little laugh. I smiled faintly in return.

I loved that pure, unblemished laughter of hers.

Life at the convent was grueling, but bearable. Compared to my father's fists or the nobles' outrages, it was practically paradise — in a place where human lives counted for less than livestock, that is.

Rise before dawn for a short prayer, clean through the day, copy scripture by night. Even when my fingertips cracked and bled, my belly was full, so it was bearable. Bearable enough that I could have gone on living that way forever.

Then one day, change came. In the middle of prayer, my body suddenly filled with blinding light. Wondering what on earth was happening, I looked myself over — and found a mark engraved upon my palms.

Every wound I touched healed on its own. A dying old nun even opened her eyes again at my touch. The priests who had always looked down on me as nothing fell to their knees on the spot.

And the single word that left their lips upended my entire life. The rat from the gutter had become the most exalted being in the world.

The one blessed by the Goddess. The Saintess.

"At last, the Saintess has descended upon our Order!"

"The Empire's prosperity shall endure! Hurrah! Hurrah!"

"Spread this news across the whole continent at once!"

Olivia pulled me into her arms and wept.

Her embrace was so warm. Unlike my usual self, tears spilled from me all at once.

"I'm so happy for you! Congratulations, Saintess Violet."

"Don't call me that. I'm not the Saintess yet."

"It's only a matter of time now. You'd better get used to it."

Not once did I doubt those words.

I believed this friendship would go on forever. Ten years past. Even the day they lowered me into the ground.

Before long, good news came for her as well. As luck would have it, a childless Count's family had taken her in as an adopted daughter. And so the two of us stepped boldly out into the world.

Our stations had changed, but we kept meeting.

I visited the Count's estate whenever I had a free hour; Olivia appeared at the temple's ceremonies. We drank tea and traded idle gossip, clutching our bellies laughing over the silliest jokes.

Back then, I truly believed it would last forever.

Until the Demon King appeared.

I will never forget the day the world split apart.

The sky turned black and the earth tore open, and from that fissure, it crawled out. The Demon King. A being no human language could contain. Where the nightmare passed, nothing remained but ash.

The Saintess had a duty. The power the Goddess had bestowed existed precisely for a day like this. So I swallowed my fear and joined the subjugation force.

Fortunately, I wasn't alone. Companions who'd shared years at my side stood with me: the taciturn swordsman, the magician who was all mouth, the archer who always covered us from the rear. And last of all, Olivia.

She had appointed herself my aide-de-camp.

I did everything I could to talk her out of it, to no avail.

She could be so stubborn it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠left me helpless.

"You just look ahead. I'll watch your back."

That was what Olivia said on the battlefield.

I nodded. I thought myself lucky to leave my back in her care. It really had been a long time we'd spent as childhood friends, I remembered thinking.

The road to the Demon King was treacherous beyond measure. Dozens of times I nearly died, and each time we clung to each other, dragging one another back up.

When a monster raid took one of our companions, we wept together through the night. I believed those tears bound us tighter than ever. Right up until the final battle — the last fight to end the whole journey…

When the Holy Sword pierced the Demon King's heart, that colossal body was swallowed by light and began to collapse. It was finally over. A girl who'd started in the mud had become the hero who saved the continent.

Joy swelled up inside me. I ran to Olivia without so much as a glance backward and threw my arms around her with everything I had. I wanted to share this feeling — this moment, right now — with her. Olivia!

"We did it! Olivia, we did it!"

Then something felt wrong. My side was burning hot.

A trickle of blood ran from my mouth, and I looked down. A dagger was buried in my stomach. The hand gripping its hilt belonged to the very person I'd just embraced. No. It couldn't be. Tell me it's a dream, please, I beg you!

"…Huh? Aaaaaaaagh?!"

As my head drooped, my legs gave out, and Olivia shoved me away. I staggered backward, wobbling — and then lost my balance entirely. Behind me was the cliff. No. No!

The moment my toes found empty air, my vision flipped. I barely caught a rock with my fingertips.

Dangling there, I managed to look up at Olivia.

"Olivia. Why…? Why would you do this to me?"

There were no tears on Olivia's face. No guilt, either. Only an expression of long-wearied disgust. A face I had never once seen before. Everything about her felt like a stranger's.

"Why? God, you really are a cursed piece of luck, aren't you."

Olivia crouched down, smiling. She peered at me for a long moment, then opened her mouth to speak — the cold truth I had never wanted to know.

"I hated you from the very beginning."

My heart plunged.

"We were born in the exact same place. So what makes you so special, huh? Why should you get to be the Saintess? I had to spend my whole life being called nothing but 'the Saintess's friend'! Do you have any idea how that felt?"

Her voice shook. It sounded like years of buried resentment erupting all at once. I had no idea what to say; my mind went white.

I found myself wishing this were all a dream.

"Every time you smiled, my stomach turned. Every time you hugged me, I wanted to vomit. And you never even noticed. That's what made me hate you more."

Then I heard footsteps. Someone was walking toward us, unhurried. A familiar silhouette. I staked my last hope on him. Stop her. Please.

"Patrick! Something's wrong with Olivia!"

Crown Prince Patrick of the Empire — patron of the subjugation force, and my friend of many years. I believed, with all my heart, that he would end this madness.

One step. Another. He drew closer, until at last he stood at the cliff's edge and looked down at me. But his eyes were cold — unnaturally so.

"Violet. You need to die here."

What is he saying? Did the Demon King brainwash him? Because if not, there's no way you two could treat me like this. Snap out of it!

"As you know, there can only be one Saintess. When the Saintess dies, the Goddess will choose a new vessel. A true Saintess would be difficult, but a substitute? That much I can arrange easily enough. There will be peace until the next Demon King arises."

He rested a hand on Olivia's shoulder.

She laid her own hand over his, like lovers who had long shared a bed.

"I intend to make Olivia the next Saintess — and my Empress. Unlike you, she's obedient, and gentle of heart. She is the one suited to be Saintess."

"…You bastards. Drop dead! Go to hell!"

That was all I could force out. Everything before my eyes was so loathsome that I heaped curses upon them both. I trusted you all this whole time. How could you pay me back like this? I thought of you as a friend!

"You were a fine Saintess, Violet. So play the part to the very end. Sacrifice yourself for Olivia. That is your final duty."

Patrick ground his boot down on the back of my hand without a flicker of mercy. I tried with everything in me to endure it, but it was useless. The more I held on, the longer the agony stretched.

Even endurance has its limit.

One finger, then another, slipped free, and my body dropped. Olivia's face and Patrick's receded with terrible speed.

The whole way down, the two of them watched me fall. They were smiling brightly — what could possibly have been so satisfying about it? That image would never leave me.

"…Uuugh. Wh-where… where am I?"

When I came to, I was in darkness. My whole body ached as if shattered; even opening my eyes was an ordeal. The bottom of a cave beneath the cliff, beyond the reach of a single ray of light. This would be my grave, I thought.

Then rage came flooding in like a rising tide. My bloodied hand seized a fistful of moss from the cave floor. My clothes, soaked crimson, gave off a fishy reek.

More than the betrayal itself, what I couldn't stomach was my own stupidity — that I had never even imagined it. The hand I'd entrusted my back to had been holding a knife all along.

The mouth I'd called friend had been spitting mockery.

I didn't want to die like this. I had to live.

Something began winding slowly around my ankle.

Damp, slippery. With immense effort, I craned my head down — a gray tentacle was crawling up my leg. And not just one. Dozens of strands wriggled toward me out of the darkness.

"Ugh…! Let — let go! You filthy thing!"

The tentacles coiled around my whole body without a gap. Sticky, slick things kept clinging to my skin. Nausea surged and vomit rose in my throat — yet I couldn't move so much as a fingertip.

Only then did I realize what these things were.

The Demon King. The thing we thought we'd destroyed. It had never fully perished. Flesh and fragments shed from its body had been lying low in the darkness all this time.

Waiting for a new host, whenever one might come.

At last, one of them gripped my jaw. It groped boldly at my breast as if savoring a woman, and tried to force its way past my lips. Filthy. Disgusting. Don't touch me. Get off. Get away from me!

Was I simply going to be violated like this?

Something in my mind snapped clean in two.

I opened my mouth and bit down on the tentacle.

Chewed through it. Swallowed it whole.

Eating the flesh of monsters was a taboo upon the world.

For one called the Saintess to do it was heresy beyond heresy — a sin even hell would not forgive. But what did that matter?

Who cares. I'm going to survive.

For that, I'd sell my very soul.

To take my revenge on those bastards!

The Goddess had abandoned me. Even the snake wearing my friend's face had abandoned me. In this pit with neither god nor man, what was left to hope for? I would abandon everything.

I devoured it, ravenous.

The tentacle thrashed and struggled, but I didn't let go.

Give it to me. Give me the strength to climb out of here.

One strand, then another. I crammed my mouth full and forced it down my throat. Gagging again and again, I suppressed the retching and swallowed anyway. The more I ate, the hotter my body burned. Strength was filling me.

Something began to grow. My bones twisted, my blood boiled, and something hard pushed up through my scalp. Both eyes ignited, burning, until my vision ran red. My nails lengthened and turned black.

I was becoming something no longer human.

There was pain, but no fear. If anything, it felt exhilarating — like shedding a skin. The yoke of sainthood that had bound me all my life was peeling away without a trace. How could it feel this good?

When I'd devoured the last of it, I was alone in the darkness. And yet, strangely, I wasn't alone. The surviving tentacles came creeping toward me.

They lowered themselves and approached with care, as if awaiting their master's permission. One of them gently nuzzled against my cheek. It was almost like an animal begging to be petted.

Somehow, it was adorable.

"Are you… worried about me? I-it tickles."

I reached out and stroked the tentacle. The things shivered all at once. I bent down and pressed a kiss to the slick thing — with the mouth that had just devoured its kin, offering it my affection…

"I'm counting on you from now on, my darlings."

In that darkness, I smiled for the first time. The Saintess Violet died at the bottom of that pit. In her place, a vengeful demon was born.

With power bordering on omnipotence in my grasp, what reason was there to hesitate? I flew straight at the Empire and trampled it into the dirt, thoroughly and completely. Everything was made equal before me. The Empire's knights, the Church's magicians — all of it.

Before a Saintess who had accepted the Demon King's power, they were insignificant. I didn't even need to lift a finger myself, because my darlings tore everything down for me, leaving nothing behind. How lovely you are, my children.

Unlike humans, you'd never betray me, would you?

Come — comfort your wounded mistress.

Burn the world in my stead.

In the vast ruin choked with ash, only one living person remained. My one and only childhood friend — and my betrayer. Olivia.

She sat slumped amid the collapsed rubble, her body scorched by fire, her clothes in tatters, trembling like an insect with dried tear tracks on her face. This is how you're beautiful, you see. Isn't that right?

"Violet… please… I was wrong."

Olivia sobbed as she looked up at me.

The tragic heroine who had lost everything.

It felt like reading a fairy tale. Who plays the villain, I wonder? Me again, I suppose.

"Patrick ordered it! I tried to stop him!"

"So did you become the Saintess? How was it?"

"Th-that is… there are still… formalities remaining…"

"Liar. You know the truth perfectly well."

At my question, her shoulders flinched.

"You thought I was stubborn, didn't you? That the one who was supposed to die at the bottom of that cliff simply wouldn't. You pushed me off the edge, and still failed to become the Saintess. How utterly foolish, Olivia. Was that really all you had?"

Olivia's lips quivered.

She looked ready to argue back on the spot, but apparently had nothing to say. The sight was so absurd that the corners of my mouth kept twitching.

"All that effort, and nothing to show for it. What a shame."

With that, I tossed the thing in my hand down in front of her. Something round rolled across the ground and came to a stop before her eyes — and the moment she met its gaze, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Olivia's face drained white.

It was the head of Patrick, Crown Prince of the Empire.

Olivia let out a scream that sounded like her throat was tearing. The prince's severed face stayed frozen in stunned shock, even now. I liked that. I imagine the Emperor enjoyed it a great deal too.

"Wh…?! A… AAAAAH! P-Patrick?!"

Olivia scrambled backward and crashed to the ground, clawing at the earth with hands and feet to flee. But there was nowhere left to run. Not anywhere in this world.

I looked down at the spectacle with detachment.

Killing her here felt somehow like a waste. A single life wasn't enough payment for her betrayal. Perhaps I should make her a mother to my darlings instead. I had a feeling they'd adore her. As a bride, she wouldn't be bad either.

Then, before my eyes, a blue light appeared.

A window materialized in the empty air. The script on it was not unfamiliar. It was writing I had seen before — in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the hazy memory of a certain man, lingering in its afterimage. What could it be?

Earth? Oh. Right. Why had I forgotten?

Laughter burst out of me. I couldn't hold it in.

At last, I was getting out of this hellhole.

After that, there was nothing left to hesitate over.

"Ha… haha… AHAHAHA!"

To think I could return like this. I never imagined an ending like this. The world ground me down so ruthlessly — and now, at the very end, it hands me a gift.

I swallowed my laughter and bent down.

I seized Olivia by the hair.

She thrashed with everything she had.

"No! Let go! Let go of me! Where are you taking me?!"

"You're coming with me, of course. We've always gone everywhere together. And you'll be staying by my side for a long, long time to come. We're childhood friends, aren't we? Isn't that right, Olivia?"

"Violet, we're friends! Please, forgive me!"

"That's right. Friends. Yes, you're right. The best of friends."

"You're the Saintess! So please, just give me a chance—"

"I will give you a chance. Somewhere other than here."

"N-no! No! Just kill me here, instead!"

I raised my hand. The moment I pressed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠[YES] with the tip of a blackened nail, brilliant light swallowed the world. Olivia's scream was sucked into that radiance — but I never let go of her.

Goodbye, you wretched world.