Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Recap - 5
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The rumors that the Princess had drawn her sword had already spread like wildfire through the streets. With so many witnesses, it was inevitable.
And discreetly, those in the know were aware that her opponent had been an elf—one from the Hero Party, no less.
She hadn't even bothered hiding her face. They'd thrown a grand banquet gathering the entire Hero Party to celebrate their return, and anyone with sharp eyes could tell the two elves were one and the same.
And at the center of it all was one nobleman.
A man so rude and brazen that even after receiving the Princess's aid, he just went on his way as if nothing had happened—yet worthy enough to draw an elf's obsession and attempted abduction.
Those rumors were exaggerated and embellished. By the time they reached the Saintess's ears, the original truth was barely recognizable.
"Celia! Is it true the Princess and an elf are fighting over some guy?"
"Kkh!"
Drenched in sweat, her white priestly robes clinging to her skin, the Saintess emerged from the prayer room.
The Goddess didn't always answer her prayers, but at least before joining the Hero Party, she could hear Her voice once or twice a week.
This situation was bizarre, no matter how she thought about it.
But blaming God was never an option in her mind.
She simply prayed harder, more devoutly, to make up for her shortcomings.
Because without meeting the Goddess, this pain felt like it would never heal.
"Wh-what are you talking about..."
But the weary Saintess was met with even more shocking news.
"You really don't know? Or are you just keeping it secret from us even though you know?"
"Well, if it's the Princess's secret, I get why you can't say. I totally understand!"
The Saintess clung to her foggy mind and forced her mouth open.
"N-no, not that... what you just said..."
"You still haven't heard? Wait, you really don't know?"
"The Saintess has been in all-night prayer since yesterday. Just let her rest for now."
Exhausted and drowsy as she was, she wouldn't sleep with that question lingering. The Saintess gripped the nun's shoulders tightly with both hands.
"Tell me again... please."
"The Princess and the elf are having a lovers' quarrel over one man..."
Startled by her intensity, the nun spilled everything she knew.
"What happened?"
"Last night, that elf from the Hero Party... Nerwen? She tried to kidnap the Baron for a lovers' elopement, but the Princess—who'd been stalking the Baron—drew her sword with a whoosh, rescued him, and threw the elf in jail?"
The words didn't quite register in the Saintess's head. She understood the nouns: Nerwen, Baron, Elenor.
But connecting them to any actions made no sense.
"Th-that's just a ridiculous rumor..."
"There were tons of witnesses! The elf brushed off the guards like nothing and tried to scoop up the Baron, but the Princess drew her sword, pointed it at the elf, and the Baron just walked off like it was no big deal..."
"No... way..."
It was too detailed and large-scale for a mere rumor. Besides, the atmosphere wasn't right for such nonsense to spread.
The Princess wasn't unpopular, nor were there bad rumors about elves circulating.
News of his betrothal to the Baron had leaked in upper-class circles, but it was hushed whispers at best.
Commoners wandering the city streets could hardly even imagine it. But if they were calling it a lovers' quarrel, something definite had happened.
"Th-those two... wouldn't do that..."
She could guess who the Baron was. She'd only learned he was a descendant of the Leodrín family after the adventure ended, when she tried to meet him.
There simply wasn't any other man the two of them had in common.
Elenor had treated him like a pack mule. Maybe even worse—no sane person would drill a knight-level training regimen into a mere porter to the point of death.
Nerwen grabbed her nose every time she saw him. She constantly belittled and insulted him as a human—a mere ordinary one at that.
It grated against Celia’s belief that all humans were equal before the Goddess, but intervening did no good.
Perhaps it was her way of craving acknowledgment of her superiority. After all, no one—not the Saintess, Princess, or mage—could be looked down on just for being elves.
"There's no way something like that happened..."
But if it was true.
If they harbored romantic feelings for him and had been hiding it all this time.
"Come on, then why else would those two fight over a guy?"
"Well... but..."
Me. Why?
She could understand if he hated her.
No matter how grueling the tasks, he always smiled and said it was fine. At some point, the Saintess forgot to ask his permission, offering only hollow thanks.
It was arrogance. She shouldn’t have done that. He was human too, and his devotion had limits.
It was her failing, her shortcoming. She couldn’t deny it.
She’d thought once this war ended, they’d all laugh together again. His stiff expressions were just battle stress against the Demon King’s Army, she figured—and everything would return to normal after.
Back to those early adventure days when no one hated each other.
When he’d crack jokes, Elenor showed him respect, the mage listened with intrigued eyes to his thoughts, Nerwen stuffed veggies in his mouth, and she burst into laughter.
"Saintess, are you okay?"
"I... I need to go back to the prayer room."
Enduring the shock swirling in her mind, the Saintess staggered back to where she’d come from.
"You'll ruin your health—you were just there..."
"Just a moment... only a moment."
But it had been her delusion. Enel hated her. He’d shoved Celia away as if she weren’t worth conversing with.
It hurt. But she believed there’d be a chance to make amends someday.
If she prayed to the Goddess, kept a pure heart, and never forgot to apologize to him.
Since no one had died, the relationship could be mended.
But.
Entering the prayer room, the Saintess knelt in the empty, pitch-black void. She suppressed the doubt she’d never entertained before—that no one might be there at all.
She needed to calm her heart. What was growing inside her now was hatred.
"Goddess..."
She knew she had no right to think this way.
But they...
"Why... why do You let those people have the Porter... Enel?"
What a foolishly kind Saintess.
She found treating people harshly far harder than responding with kindness and smiles.
But when people clashed, she had no choice but to pick a side, even if she didn’t want to.
Nerwen, who silently glared daggers and pinched her nose after meeting him.
Pashier, who’d say “Think if that’s really necessary right now” every time she used holy power.
And Elenor, who treated the Saintess like a “naive goody-two-shoes” whenever she spoke well of him.
The Saintess hated being disliked. Unless they were heretics or demons, she couldn’t bear to yell or cause them pain.
He was the more patient one. The one who never snapped, the one outnumbered.
In the end, she chose the easy path.
"If only those people weren’t there..."
The Saintess could have helped him without guilt.
If she’d met someone so devoted outside the Hero Party, she’d have pulled him into the church somehow.
At the very least, he wouldn’t have come to hate her.
"I...!"
Ever since that incident a few days ago, the Saintess had holed up in the prayer room, praying nonstop. She’d thrown herself into such harsh penance she’d fainted.
She knew apologies not said to his face were meaningless.
But with nothing else she could do, she prayed. Honoring his plea not to meet, she only prayed for his heart to soften.
"While I’m like this..."
What if.
She knew it was selfish, but if the other Hero Party members hadn’t hated him.
None of this regret or sorrow would have happened.
"How could those people..."
If Elenor and Nerwen wanted him—and didn’t want anyone else approaching him—that might explain it.
She knew it was absurd fantasy. Clearly, the elf truly despised him, and the Princess sincerely scorned him.
Such antics might fend off rivals, but she’d never win him herself.
"Ah."
But what if she never intended to win his heart from the start?
The World Tree was sacred ground; humans stepping foot without permission meant war. If Nerwen somehow kidnapped him inside, the Empire would hesitate over a mere baron and an elf.
Elenor was the Princess. She could crush any “differences of opinion” with power.
Even a lust-blinded Emperor touching a married woman was hard to punish—what’s marrying a baron? She had the strength advantage too...
The Saintess bit her lip. Vulgar rage and jealousy seeped into the holy space.
"The one who liked him first... was me..."