The Hero Demanded Proof
"Conditions?"
After the commotion in the village, I headed home with the saintess. I couldn't keep talking to her while the villagers were praying as they stared at me. Of course, Jena was still eyeing me suspiciously and on guard, but she couldn't block the saintess. Not after witnessing the miracle of my throat being sliced open and me coming back to life. She had no grounds to stop her anymore.
The saintess needed to take me to the capital, home of the Gaiana Church's grand cathedral, to prove the oracle she'd received was real. She didn't seem particularly suspicious of me in that situation.
"Yeah, a very simple condition."
The moment we stepped inside the house, the saintess told me to head to the empire's capital with her, and I'd attached a condition to it. She furrowed her brow, clearly not understanding the situation, but she didn't outright refuse.
"Hah, putting conditions on the glorious honor of being chosen as the Hero."
"If you don't like it, I just won't do it. Hell, what do I even gain from being the Hero anyway?"
"...Let's hear this condition first, then."
At my words that I could just quit being the Hero, she replied with a horrified look. Naturally, I had no intention of quitting, but if I did decide that, it'd put the saintess in a real bind.
"First off, get me a house near the capital—no, near the Gaiana grand cathedral. And some decent support to live comfortably."
"...That shouldn't be hard, but do you even need it?"
She tilted her head as she looked at me. As the Hero, I'd be wandering the continent's dangerous spots, so why would I need a house in the capital?
"No misunderstanding. It's not for me."
I smiled wearily at her words. The house I was asking for wasn't for me anyway—it was for old man Ghetto. Our village was so remote even the Demon King's army wouldn't bother with it. But in my previous life, Ghetto had been picked as a sacrificial lamb just to piss me off. After racking my brain for the safest spot from the Demon King's army, I'd settled on the empire's capital, near the grand cathedral. It had never been invaded even once in the previous history, so Ghetto wouldn't meet some idiotic end like before.
"Oh, do you have family?"
The saintess glanced around the house I shared with Ghetto and asked. I nodded slowly to her question, and I could see the corners of her mouth curl up.
Hmph, I can guess what you're thinking without even looking.
She probably thought she'd found my weakness. Holding family hostage made for a fine leash. Supporting a house and some living expenses in exchange for putting a collar on the Hero's neck? Sounded like a good deal to her.
It might've worked in my previous life, but this time? Doubt it.
I sneered at her inwardly. I'd already considered the possibility of the saintess or the Gaiana Church taking Ghetto hostage. But I'd still made the demand because I was confident I could save him somehow. Even if they did grab him, they couldn't do shit to me. They couldn't touch me as the Hero, and I could just slack off on purpose. Hell, after saving the world once already, I didn't give a damn what happened to it. But if they harmed Ghetto, I'd even consider teaming up with the Demon King.
"Fine. If that's the reason, I'll accept your condition. It'll be a bit of a stretch, though."
She hid her true feelings and said that. Even with her brothel origins, a saintess was still a saintess. Setting up a house and covering living expenses was nothing for her. But her whining was probably to build up some debt of gratitude in my mind.
Since I must look like some backwater bumpkin to her.
I saw through Marian's scheming and let out a chuckle. Honestly, her little tricks didn't bother me at all. It was almost welcome seeing her act just as I expected. The shittier her plays, the more fun it'd be to torment her.
"Good."
"But I have a condition too."
"A condition?"
"Your family can follow later. There are people in the capital dying to see you arrive."
I snorted at Marian's words. People waiting for me? Probably just Aaron, desperate to secure his shaky crown prince seat with the Hero variable, and Marian here, eager to prove she's the real saintess. The Hero's appearance meant the world was plunging into hardships too big to handle, and most folks hated that.
"Sure. We'll do that."
I saw right through her scheme but agreed anyway. Ghetto needed time to pack and leave the village. And traveling separately would be safer for him than with me.
"Then let's head out right away."
She spoke with an impatient look. But I slowly shook my head and met her eyes.
"I agreed to let family go later, not that I'm leaving right now."
Her face twisted slightly at my words.
"What?"
"I mean, I can't believe you're the saintess."
She wore an expression of utter disbelief turning to anger. After all our talk, for me to say now that I didn't believe she was the saintess? It was natural she'd be pissed.
"Hah. You've seen the church's holy knights, right? And I agreed to all your conditions."
"Sure. But that doesn't prove you're the saintess."
"...What the hell are you talking about? I'm the saintess—prove it?"
Marian snapped at me, thoroughly fed up. I shrugged lightly at her and replied matter-of-factly.
"I proved I'm the Hero."
"...Th-that. If you're upset about what happened earlier, I'll apologize on her behalf."
She finally seemed to get why I was saying this, her face shifting. She thought I was picking a fight because Jena's attitude hurt my feelings. But that was her mistake—my goal was different.
"Nah, no need for apologies. You prove it too. Fair's fair, right?"
"...So how? Show you holy magic?"
I snorted at her words. Holy magic? Even regular priests could do that.
"Anyone can do that. As the saintess, you gotta have something special."
"Hah. I don't know what misunderstanding you have, but saintesses don't have special powers. I just hear the Goddess's will."
She sighed as she answered. Total bullshit. Saintesses definitely had powers beyond regular priests. Her healing left no scars, and her blessings packed a punch. But she was lying because she didn't want to waste her power here on a bumpkin like me.
Yeah, the bitch who staggers after one spell.
I curled my lip as I watched her lie so smoothly. I already knew she wouldn't show her hand here.
"Really? That's a shame."
"...If you're still suspicious, come to the capital with me. Plenty of people there can vouch for my identity."
"Nah, I'm not traveling with you till you prove it yourself."
She bit her lip in frustration. She needed to get me to the capital fast, but I was being stubborn, leaving her no choice.
Think it through, Marian.
I watched her frustrated glare and whispered that inwardly. But she just scowled, no good ideas coming.
Finally, tired of waiting, I gave her a hint.
"From what I hear, the Gaiana Church's saintess came from a brothel."
"...What?"
Her sky-blue brows shot up as she glared. Everyone on the continent knew her origins, but she hated anyone bringing it up to her face.
"Am I wrong?"
"..."
"Nah, couldn't be. Makes me even more suspicious of you."
She scowled harder. To prove she was the saintess, she'd have to admit the origin she hated most.
"Fine. I was born in Raksha Street, the empire's dirtiest, most rundown brothel district."
She clenched her fists tight as she said it. Admitting it was so hard, tears welled in her eyes.
"Yeah?"
"...Yeah. So what?"
"Nah, must be a misunderstanding. I've just been thinking of ways for you to prove you're the saintess."
"What? How does being born in Raksha prove—gasp."
She cut herself off mid-sentence. She'd finally caught on to my method.
"...You don't mean."
"Yep. Anyone from an imperial brothel district like Raksha has one thing, right?"
Her face twisted sharply. Prostitution wasn't illegal in the empire. But that didn't mean they looked kindly on the women, and the elites hated when they hid their status for a new life. So they made a law: brand brothel-born with a mark even holy magic couldn't erase.
And it's on the ass, of course.
I watched her leisurely as she glared daggers and started lying again.
"It's true I came from there, but I'm no whore. I don't have that brand you're thinking of."
She tried to play it cool, but I knew she was full of shit. The empire branded even those born there, not just the whores. The elites wanted to isolate not just prostitutes, but their bastard kids too. And I knew for a fact Marian had it.
"Guess you're a fake, then."
I mocked her with a grin.
"From what I know, the first sensation a brothel baby feels is a hot iron searing their skin. Denying it means you're no saintess."
"...How do you even know that?"
She asked, looking pissed. Like a village bumpkin who's never seen a brothel would know.
"You learn a lot from books."
I grinned as I answered, and her eyes darkened.
"I don't know your game, but impersonating a saintess? Get out."
I said it to her, and finally cornered, she asked with resolve.
"...Hah, fine. If I show you the brand, you'll believe me?"
I flashed a lewd smile at the saintess, right on cue.