A Toast to the Saintess
The Holy City still lay beneath a crimson night. The line outside the confessional showed no sign of ending even as dawn drew near, and the lights in the repentance rooms burned well into the late hours. Mariel sat alone in the empty prayer hall, listening to every sound.
Endless prayers laced with fear. Heart-wrenching screams that choked down pain. The dry scratching of papers listing sins across the marble floor. Mariel closed her eyes in serene calm.
The Ria who had gone there would feel no pain. She would not be unable to say she was afraid, nor would she be forced to smile through it. In the Lord’s arms, this time she would laugh with pure, untroubled brightness.
“Just wait a little longer.”
Mariel smiled quietly, thinking of the day they would meet again.
At that same moment, far across the sea from the Holy Kingdom, a single island floated alone. Pirate Island—a lawless haven beyond the full reach of the Kingdom’s laws or the Holy State’s grasp. Pirates, privateers, smugglers, and bounty hunters came and went every day.
Sometimes even the naval crews who were supposed to hunt them raised glasses together inside the harbor. Though they might hate one another, no one drew blood on shore. Grudges were settled once they reached open water. That was the only rule this rough island recognized.
In the middle of that island, inside the noisiest and foulest-smelling tavern of them all—
“To Saintess Mariel!”
A small hand thrust a glass high. The rowdy tavern fell silent for a heartbeat. Bearded, vicious-looking pirates. Smugglers with cloaks pulled low. Privateer sailors nursing drinks in the corner. Every one of them turned toward the owner of that hand.
Silver hair that swayed like moonlight. An old nun’s habit that hung loose on a frame too small for it. And a child straining with both hands to lift a juice glass nearly as big as her own face.
It was me—Ria.
“Our little nun’s buying!” someone shouted. That playful cry broke the hush, and the tavern exploded with laughter once more.
“Everybody raise your glasses! This is blessed liquor treated by the little nun herself!”
“Sister, you don’t even drink. Why are you paying for everyone else?”
“Because I’m in an exceptionally good mood.”
I gripped the juice glass with both hands and answered. The hulking pirate at the next table let out a rumbling chuckle.
“Then we’d better drink happily too.”
“In moderation. If you drink too much, I won’t treat you next time.”
“Oh, the little nun’s scary.”
“You’d better believe it.”
Everyone howled, clutching their stomachs. It wasn’t mockery. Probably.
The people here never asked where I had come from. They didn’t ask why I wore a nun’s habit, what I hid beneath my collar, or whose name I had once lived under.
Their faces said none of it mattered. If you had coin, you were a customer. If you carried trays, you were staff. If you bought the drinks, you were a good person—for the night, at least. That single rule made this tavern better than the Holy City ever had been.
I took a sip of the sweet fruit juice. It tasted exactly like my mood today—pure sugar.
Because Mariel had become a Saintess.
The rumor had reached Pirate Island several days ago. At first I doubted my own ears. After they discovered she had hidden a black-magic test subject like me, I never imagined the matter would simply pass.
So I asked anyone and everyone. I questioned pirates drunk out of their minds, merchants unloading cargo at the docks, and sailors who had slipped through Holy Kingdom sea lanes. Every answer matched with almost eerie consistency.
Mariel had become a Saintess. Far from collapsing, the Holy Kingdom had grown even stronger. Even the Inquisition had bowed its head before her. People who witnessed the miracle grew far more devout than before, and sinners now raced one another to the confessional to repent and lower their heads.
Wow. It really was a relief. Honestly, I had been a little worried. No—honestly, I had been extremely worried. The brand on my neck had been exposed. Because of that, everyone learned I was a black mage’s test subject. I had feared the backlash would keep Mariel from ascending.
In the original story, Saintess Mariel was one of the pivotal figures who would save the world when the Demon King awakened. If that role shattered because of me? Just imagining it made my stomach turn.
Yet Mariel had become a Saintess as if to prove everyone wrong. The Holy Kingdom had not crumbled. On the contrary, after her ascension all the ugly rumors inside the kingdom had settled at once.
Everyone declared they would follow the Saintess’s will. High-ranking clergy competed to visit the confessional. The citizens of the Holy City prayed longer and more devoutly than ever.
All good news. That was enough. I hadn’t ruined the original by interfering. If anything, the rumors suggested things had turned out even better.
“Haa.”
I blew across the top of my juice glass for no reason. Mariel would be all right now. We probably wouldn’t meet again.
The moment I thought that, a dull ache bloomed in my chest. Mariel really was a good person. People like her were rare.
That made her a little uncomfortable to be around, but it also made her precious. Still, if I went to find her now, the one who would suffer would be Mariel the Saintess.
She had risen to the highest position, while I was an unstable test subject carrying a black-magic brand that could detonate at any moment.
To the Holy Kingdom I was still a child who could be dragged back to the Purification Pyre anytime. No matter how powerful a Saintess she had become, my very existence would be a fatal weakness and a burden to her.
So it was better to stay far away. Someday—really someday—when everything was over, when the Demon King had vanished and there was no longer any need to hide the brand on my neck… maybe then we could see each other once. That would be enough. For now, knowing she had safely become a Saintess was plenty.
Therefore, today—
“To Saintess Mariel!”
I raised my glass again. This time roughly half the tavern playfully lifted theirs in return.
“To her!”
“To our little nun!”
Laughter burst forth once more.
“But little nun,” someone asked beside me. “Do you even have the money?”
“…….”
I didn’t answer.
“How long have you been working here that you’re treating everyone?”
“Our little one’s got a big heart.”
“You’re not running a tab under the Saintess’s name, are you?”
I slowly turned my head. The tavern master was wiping glasses. He looked like he could fold three pirates bare-handed. A knife scar ran across his chin, and his forearms were thicker than my waist.
He was also the one who had picked me up after I washed ashore unconscious. Even now, meeting his eyes still made me flinch with remembered terror.
Yet strangely, the master was weak to cute things. Especially to me—though he would never admit it.
I set the juice glass down and folded both hands neatly in my lap like a proper child.
“Just put it on my tab for today, Master?”
“No.”
His voice was as solid as rock.
“Come on, it’s a good day. Just today.”
“No.”
Instead of arguing, I lowered my eyes slightly and looked up at him. His thick eyebrows twitched.
“……I’ll deduct it from your wages.”
“As expected of you, Master.”
“Don’t smile.”
Someone at the next table failed to stifle a laugh.
“Pfft.”
The master’s gaze slid slowly in that direction. The laughing pirate immediately lifted his glass to hide his mouth, pretending nothing had happened. I, too, pretended nothing had happened and sucked noisily on my straw.
It was then that a relaxed, charming voice drifted from the doorway.
“You’ve got quite the nerve, little sister.”
I looked over while still holding my glass. A woman with black hair roughly swept back and tied loosely leaned crookedly against the doorframe.
A few strands tousled by sea wind brushed her sweat-damp forehead and cheeks with wild grace. Her double-lidded black eyes were always curved in playful mischief.
The top buttons of her white shirt were undone just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, and the worn scabbard at her hip was angled for a quick draw. There wasn’t a trace of tidiness about her.
Captain Tasha.
The moment the pirates saw her, they quietly made way. Tasha strolled through them as if the tavern, the island, and the sea beyond all belonged to her.
“I’m not your little sister.”
“Then little nun?”
Tasha sat down across from me with a grin.
“So? Have you given it any serious thought?”
“About what?”
“Joining my ship.”
I shook my head at once.
“No.”
“Aww, that was too quick. At least pretend to consider it.”
“It’s a pirate ship.”
“Privateer vessel.”
“Pirate ship.”
“Your answers are getting shorter. I’ll take that as a sign we’re getting closer.”
I quietly hugged my juice glass to my chest. Tasha watched me for a moment, then turned her gaze toward the harbor outside the window.
“You were always staring at the sea while mopping the floors.”
“When did I?”
“The side where the ships sail out.”
I stayed silent. Tasha gave a soft laugh.
“A tiny kid in a white nun’s habit sneaks onto an island crawling with black-hearted pirates and spends every day sneaking glances at the departing ships.”
“……”
“There must be a story. Whether you were driven out of the Holy Kingdom, chased by someone, or simply grew tired of dry land.”
She jerked her chin toward the sea beyond the window.
“Still, the sea doesn’t ask about your past. It cares more about where you want to row today than where you were chased from yesterday.”
I studied Tasha quietly.
“So?”
“Hm?”
“What exactly do you gain by trying to recruit someone useless like me as crew?”
My cynical reply made Tasha’s eyes curve with even greater interest. She stopped propping her chin and leaned across the table.
“All right. Then let’s talk practical benefits instead of romance.”
“Practical benefits?”
At that moment, several pirates at a nearby table stood up.
“Before we sail, let’s stop by the temple.”
One of them rummaged in his pocket. Coins clinked. “Again?”
“They say the currents are especially bad this time.”
“That blind old navigator was drunk again yesterday, spouting the same nonsense. Said a lot of nasty things were clinging under the fog tonight.”
“That rotten old bastard says unlucky crap every single time we set sail.”
“Yeah, but the unlucky bastard always comes back alive.”
At those words the other idle pirates reluctantly began digging into their own pockets.
“I’ll pay too.”
“Last time I didn’t and I puked all night.”
“That was because you ate rotten shellfish.”
“Doesn’t matter. Better than not paying.”
Tasha tapped my table with a long finger.
“Why go all the way to the temple?”
Every pirate counting coins snapped their heads toward her. Tasha rested her chin on her hand again and pointed at me with a grin.
“We have a nun right here.”
“……Pardon?”
I froze with the juice glass still in my hands. All eyes turned to me.
“The little nun?”
“Oh, right. No need to bother going to the temple.”
I slowly looked back at Tasha. She was smiling without the slightest trace of guilt.
Tasha laughed under her breath, then reached toward my shoulder before thinking better of it and pulling back. She must have remembered I disliked having my hair touched. “Our poor sailors who risk our lives every voyage—just give us one little prayer for safe passage.”
“Why me?”
“Those guys are about to hand their money over to the temple.”
“So?”
Tasha leaned close to my ear.
“That money’s a waste, isn’t it?”
“……”
“They’re only paying to feel at ease anyway.” Tasha’s smile widened. “You say one prayer, I set the stage. Simple.”
“It’s a scam.”
“Hey now.” Tasha raised a finger. “Our nun is going to pray with all her heart. How could that be a scam?”
“I still don’t even know the proper doctrines or how to pray correctly in front of people.”
“Just improvise with what you know. You lived in the Holy Kingdom—you must have picked up something.”
“What exactly do you think God is?”
“A bothersome fellow who steals the money I bleed for.”
Tasha declared it without a shred of hesitation. I was so stunned by her brazenness that I shut my mouth. Tasha straightened up and clapped her hands at the pirates.
“Line up! Our little nun is giving special blessings before the voyage!”
“Ooh, for real?”
“We don’t have to go to the temple?”
“Sister, please just keep the sea monsters away this time. We’ll guard the liquor barrels ourselves.”
The pirates gathered forward, chuckling. I swallowed a small sigh and clasped my hands.
“……May the Lord in heaven watch over and firmly protect your safe voyage.”
The tavern fell quiet for a moment. Then someone clapped.
“Done!”
“A hundred times faster and better than listening to those temple geezers nag!”
Clink. A coin dropped onto an empty plate. Then another. Clink. In seconds the plate was piled with coins.
I stared at it blankly. Tasha slid the plate closer, split the coins exactly in half, and pushed my share toward me. It was far more than I had earned in all my time here.
“See?”
“……”
“The sea is wide, human hearts are small, and prayers turn nicely into coin.”
“It’s still a scam.”
“You just did it. The prayer.”
“What kind of prayer was that?”
“Those guys felt reassured.”
Tasha smiled as if that settled everything.
I looked down at the coins in front of me.
“Is this why you keep trying to recruit me?”
“That’s part of it.” Tasha flicked one of the coins with her fingertip. “Rough sea dogs are all the same. They strut around saying they don’t believe in gods, but the moment a storm hits and the ship starts to capsize, they’re the first ones trembling and making the sign of the cross.”
Her gaze dropped to my worn nun’s habit.
“Having a nun aboard is a pretty big comfort to men like that.”
“I’m still a fake nun who hasn’t even received proper baptism.”
“Doesn’t matter. They can’t tell the difference.”
Tasha smiled easily.
“And even if they could, it wouldn’t matter. The important thing is that you don’t run away in front of them.”
“……”
“It’s not every day you find a believer sitting in the middle of a pirate tavern, holding a juice glass and shouting ‘To the Saintess!’”
Tasha rested her chin on her hand again, looked straight into my eyes, and gave a playful wink.
“That’s why I’m working so hard to seduce you.”
“How about it?” Tasha asked. “Any interest in boarding my ship yet?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Shame.”
Her mouth said shame, but her face didn’t look disappointed at all as she smiled.
“Then next time I’ll have to bring better bait.”
Instead of answering I drank my juice.
Right then the tavern door slammed open.
“Captain!”
A sailor with wet hair rushed in, gasping for breath.
“Right now at the harbor… a navy flag has been raised!”
Even at the urgent report, Tasha kept smiling with her chin propped on her hand.
“The navy stops by sometimes.”
“It’s not just any navy…” The sailor swallowed hard. “Black Anchor. It’s Captain Grain.”
In that instant the laughter inside the tavern died completely. Someone set down their glass. Someone else swallowed a curse.
The pirates who had been chuckling moments ago now exchanged nervous glances. Black Anchor. I didn’t know exactly who the nickname referred to, but I could tell from the shift in atmosphere that the name alone was enough.
Even Tasha’s ever-present playful smile froze for the briefest moment. Then the corners of her mouth rose again.
“Of all days, it had to be today.”
Tasha stood up slowly. She leaned down slightly so our eyes met.
“Little nun.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Pack light.”
“I said I’m not going.”
“For life at sea you need plenty of spare clothes. You’ll also want sturdy leather shoes that won’t mind being soaked.”
“Are you listening to me?”
“Keep anything precious inside your clothes. It’s annoying to search the ocean if they fall in.”
“I said I’m not going.”
“Yeah, yeah. I heard you.”
Tasha brushed off my protest and turned around. In the same sly tone as before she shouted across the tavern.
“Hey, you bastards!”
The pirates rose as if they had been waiting for the signal.
“Time to run!”
The tavern descended into instant chaos. As the pirates poured out, the place grew strangely quiet. The space that had been filled with laughter, curses, and the stench of alcohol now held only empty glasses and wet footprints.
I picked up a plate.
A pirate ship. Honestly, part of me was tempted. A ship meant I could leave the island. There would be food, a place to sleep, and I wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow morning immediately. But a pirate ship was still a pirate ship.
Once aboard, I might not be able to get off when I wanted. If we were caught by the navy I would be treated as one of the crew. A bounty on my head would only make things worse.
Above all, I was tired. Tired of being captured, of having the brand on my neck exposed, of being abandoned at sea. After all that, I didn’t want to climb aboard another pirate ship and begin a life of being chased across the waves again.
This time I wanted to live normally. Carry plates at the tavern. Save a little money. Find passage to a quiet place where neither navy nor pirates visited often. It wasn’t a grand plan, but for me right now even that was a big enough dream.
Creak—.
The tavern door opened heavily once more.
This time no boisterous laughter accompanied the newcomers. Men in black naval uniforms stepped inside. Unlike the pirates, they did not seize seats immediately. They scanned the room, checked the entrance and windows, then sat down at a table.
They naturally ordered no alcohol. The master silently set down warm stew and bread. The woman seated at the head removed her gloves. I recognized her at once.
Black Anchor. Captain Grain.
Her jet-black hair was bound so tightly at the nape that not a single strand escaped. Her deep black eyes stared straight ahead without the slightest tremor. Rainwater from the storm clung heavily to the hem of her heavy naval cloak and dripped steadily, yet her proud stride and ramrod-straight posture never faltered.
Gloves, scabbard, uniform collar—everything was impeccable. She looked less like a person and more like a perfectly forged blade given human shape.
“Thank you.”
Grain spoke curtly. That was all.
The tavern, now emptied of pirates, had grown so quiet it was hard to believe it was the same place. The only sounds were spoons touching bowls, water dripping from a wet cloak, and the master wiping glasses.
When she finished eating, Grain quietly wiped her mouth with a handkerchief. Her movements were measured. She pushed the empty bowl aside and gave the master a small nod.
“It was good.”
The master answered with a slight jerk of his chin. Only then did Grain take out a folded sheet of paper.
“I am looking for one person.”
Privateer Captain
Last seen near Pirate Island
The paper unfolded. It showed a woman with black hair loosely tied, smiling crookedly. It was Captain Tasha, the same woman who had been slyly urging me to board her ship only moments ago. Bold letters beneath the portrait read MUST BE CAPTURED ALIVE, followed by an astronomical bounty amount.
I looked at the number once, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. I had not misread it. That sum could probably buy several taverns outright.
This was clearly going to be troublesome. I had just resolved to live quietly.
Grain asked, “Has anyone seen this woman?”
I set down my juice glass and shook my head with perfect naturalness.
“I don’t know her.”
I didn’t. I didn’t know the person who had just been sitting here making me sell prayers, telling me to pack, telling me to get on her ship.
But—
“Uhhh?”
From a corner table, one pirate who had been too drunk to flee and had passed out underneath it staggered to his feet, hiccupping.
“That woman?”
He lurched toward Grain with an empty glass in hand.
“I know her. She comes here all the time.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Yesterday, the day before… I don’t know. Lots of times.”
The pirate chuckled and pointed straight at me.
“She’s always sticking to that kid over there.”
I tightened my grip on the plate. Don’t.
“Don’t ask me—ask her.”
Please.
“Pretty sure she’s crew on that ship?”
The air in the tavern sank like a stone.
“Enough,” the master warned quietly.
But it was already too late. Grain’s gaze moved slowly—from Tasha’s face on the wanted poster, to the drunk pirate, and finally to me. Her black eyes stopped on my worn nun’s habit.
I smiled awkwardly, plate still in my hands.
“Ah, hahaha.”