Find the Hero's Heir! (3) The Holy Kingdom's Saintess Wasn't a Cultist After All
I nearly got shocked by an unimaginable twist, thinking the saintess from the Holy Kingdom might be some kind of zealot from a new heaven and earth cult. But thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case.
At Yubelia Euyril's request to talk for a moment, we moved to a quieter spot. Lunchtime was almost over, but my next class happened to be free anyway, so I had plenty of time to spare.
"…But why are you sitting all the way over there? Weren't you the one who wanted to chat?"
The problem was that the guy who'd asked to talk was perched on a bench clear across from me. I asked in a scolding tone, utterly dumbfounded, and the saintess bowed repeatedly in apology.
"S-s-s-sorry…! Our order has strict rules, so I'm not allowed to get too close to men…!"
"Ah, got it."
Nothing to be done about that, then. Still, in this gender-swapped world, it was oddly fascinating that a saintess rather than a saint handled the role. Then again, even in my previous world, high positions in religion were mostly held by men. Maybe this was just faithful to historical accuracy.
"More importantly, is it okay to talk like this? You're a saintess, after all."
"Y-yes. It's fine. The others graciously honor me, but I'm just an ordinary woman blessed by the Lord. Please, call me by my name."
"I wouldn't call that ordinary. Anyway, Yubelia it is, then?"
"A… a man calling my name…."
I caught a mumble, but she was a bit too far for me to make it out clearly. At any rate, we finally had a proper setup for conversation.
"So, what brings you to me?"
"Truth be told, I was deeply impressed by your match the other day."
"Match…? Oh, the one with Neriel?"
A wry smile tugged at my lips as I recalled my classmates making a huge fuss about it that morning. If it had drawn attention even from other classes, it must've really blown up. Well, how could rumors not spread when some C-Class nobody took down the Magic Tower Lord's disciple? Especially for those who'd witnessed it live in the arena—it had to be mind-blowing.
"Yes. And I heard you're a commoner, Sir Aren…."
"Yeah, pretty much."
Sir Aren. The honorific felt a bit cringey, but since she seemed comfortable with it, I let it slide.
"Commoner students don't often make such a huge splash at the academy, do they?"
"Probably not. At best, maybe Lady Iferia, the one they called the Hero."
"Gasp…!"
As I named the one commoner who came to mind, she let out a sharp intake of breath. Turning, I saw Yubelia staring at me in surprise.
"What's up?"
"N-no, nothing. I just didn't expect you to know of Lady Iferia too."
"Wouldn't it be weirder if I didn't?"
Not that I had any room to talk—I'd only learned about her after the labyrinth. Still, in this world's lore, she was hugely famous. One of those classic fantasy novel heroes who saved the world. Especially in the knight class, where the Sword Saint's legend was passed down like mythology—I'd heard her name so often my ears had blistered. Whenever Professor Azela asked the class, "What kind of swordsman do you want to be?" nine times out of ten, it'd be Iferia.
"R-right. It would be strange not to know her. Ahaha…."
"……?"
At my point, Yubelia averted her gaze with an awkward tone. She kept stealing sidelong glances at me for a while before fixing her eyes somewhere. Curious, I followed her stare down to the sword at my waist.
"Why are you staring at my sword like that?"
"Sorry. It's just so mysteriously potent-looking for such a worn blade."
"Potent?"
Her oddly perceptive comment made me pause. Come to think of it, this thing was originally a museum piece, right? The Hero's own sword, no less. Tch. If I admitted that honestly, even Professor Azela, who'd turned a blind eye, might get dragged into trouble. Better gloss over it. This was for her sake, not because I hated losing my weapon. Yeah.
"Is it? Actually, it's a heirloom from my parents when I was a kid."
"From your parents? So that means…."
"Yeah. A family keepsake, basically."
I had no choice but to play the heirloom card. In fantasy novels, "family heirloom" was sacred ground—perfect plot armor. No matter how amazing the item, everyone just goes, "Ooh!" and accepts it. "It's been passed down for generations—what're you gonna do about it?" They couldn't exactly demand it just because it seemed suspicious.
"I see! Of course…!"
"Uh, yeah?"
Her reaction was weird, though. She sounded convinced, sure, but why the beaming excitement?
"No, I mean… anyway, that explains it. Everything makes sense now! Absolutely!"
"R-right?"
I had no clue, but since she'd bought it, I sheathed the sword again.
"Then, may I ask one more thing?"
"Shoot."
"You said it's a family heirloom, so if I may… are your parents still…?"
Nope, still suspicious. I thought she'd dropped it, but now she's digging for details? No way she's planning to contact them or something insane. But fat chance. I had another alibi up my sleeve.
"They're gone."
"…Pardon?"
"Gone. I'm an orphan."
What could she do about that? It was true, anyway. They passed when my memories were still hazy. Perfect cover.
Suddenly, her face lit up.
"Just as I thought…! I knew it!"
She clapped like a seal with the most innocent smile. …Shincheonji padlip. Why were the saintess archetypes in this world so top-tier?
Find the Hero.
That was the grave mission she'd been entrusted with, but the information given to Yubelia was terribly limited. Iferia had come from an impoverished commoner family without even a proper house, making it nearly impossible to trace her heir through records like household registries. On top of that, there were no known legacies she'd left behind, which only compounded the issue.
But in this case, her commoner origins became a massive clue instead. Especially since the place she'd set foot in was none other than Teleos Academy. Though it touted equal education, it was essentially a noble playground. Commoner students were rare there, easy to spot—and if one showed exceptional skill, they'd stand out even more.
It's definitely him!
Gazing at Aren's profile from afar, Yubelia smiled with thrilled anticipation. From her investigations, there were only two first-year commoners. Theo didn't stand out much and had no notable history, so he'd been ruled out early. But Aren had been at the center of every incident since the class placement exam, resolving them effortlessly and skyrocketing to fame.
My eyes didn't deceive me.
She'd harbored suspicions since then, and witnessing his match in the inter-class tournament was the clincher. He'd held his own against the Magic Tower Lord's disciple—no, he'd even suppressed her vast mana to disrupt her spellcasting. It mirrored the hero tales of old Iferia perfectly. Rumors even swirled that Iferia had commissioned a custom sword during her school days because no blade could withstand her mana.
That sword must be Lady Iferia's too. Everything fits.
Sensing the faint spiritual aura emanating from the sword at his waist, Yubelia's expression filled with conviction. Most artifacts were artificially enchanted, but legendary heroes' gear often absorbed their power or soul fragments, becoming artifacts post-creation. And she'd never seen one radiating such pure spirituality in her life. It had to be the weapon of a hero worthy of history's etchings.
And he'd said it was from his late parents. That sparked a hypothesis in Yubelia.
The followers of Nemesis must have hunted the Hero's family.
If true, it explained why Iferia had hidden her sole blood relative's identity. Some tragic accident had claimed Iferia and her husband early, leaving only this man to carry on the line.
"Thank you for hearing me out. Sorry for the trouble, Sir Aren."
Wrapping up the talk, Yubelia bowed to the man before her with heightened politeness.
"Just Aren. No need for 'sir' between classmates."
"I-is that okay? This is actually my first time calling a man by name without honorifics…."
His unexpected suggestion left her flustered. Back in the Holy Kingdom, people were addressed as "believer" or similar. Contact with men was nonexistent, so names were out of the question. Especially for the Hero's heir—skipping honorifics felt borderline rude.
"I don't know how it was in the Holy Kingdom, but this is the academy. Same year means we're all friends, right? I call you Yubelia, not Saintess."
But he brushed it off so casually, how could she refuse? Deep down, as an ordinary woman, she'd always wished for a peer opposite-sex friend. She'd just never had the chance. Her social anxiety wasn't hatred of people—it was a byproduct of isolation.
"Th-then… Aren…."
"Yeah. We might run into each other again, so take care."
"Y-yes, heh…?!"
Her reply cracked oddly as he extended his hand readily. She knew exactly what it meant—she wasn't that naive. She just hesitated, bound by heavy rules, staring at it.
"Oh, sorry. No contact with the opposite sex, right?"
Recalling her earlier words too late, he started to withdraw. But Yubelia lunged forward first.
Grab.
"N-no, it's fine…! Th-this is the academy, not the Holy Kingdom! Surely the Lord would allow this much!"
She quoted his own words in a lame excuse. It wouldn't hold water—the order's rules were ironclad anywhere. But rules sometimes needed flexibility. Turning down a greeting from the Hero who'd safeguarded the continent, just for regulations? Too rigid. That's why she reached out.
"Really? You're pretty flexible."
"Y-yes…!"
Relieved at his acceptance, she sighed inwardly.
"Heh heh…."
Feeling a man's hand for the first time, she let slip a giddy giggle. Contrary to the myth that men's hands were soft, his was callused and firm—but as her first, it didn't matter a bit.
I finally held a boy's hand…!
She'd feared dying without ever touching one after becoming saintess young. But no—here it was. Even if divine punishment came later, she'd savor this moment, kneading his hand playfully.