The Saintess's Dream Is a Prophetic Vision

The Saintess's dream is a prophetic vision. Let me say it again because it's important. The dreams a Saintess has are special. It's because the Goddess granted only the Saintess the power of 'prophetic vision' that allows her to glimpse the future. Of course, despite the grandiose name, most prophetic visions are trivial things. For example, tonight's dinner menu being some tasteless oatmeal, or a passing priest tripping over a rock and scraping his knee. That kind of mundane stuff. But very rarely, a prophetic vision warns of a major crisis that could change the course of history. In fact, they say that hundreds of years ago, thanks to one Saintess's prophetic vision, the Sectia Holy Empire was able to overcome the threat of destruction. That's why there's a strict rule that every single dream the Saintess has must be recorded and preserved in detail, no matter how insignificant it seems.

Of course, there were exceptions to this rule. No matter how much of a Saintess she is, she's still a human being first. Recording every little thing is a waste of time, and describing content that's too embarrassing to even say out loud would damage the Saintess's honor while also being something she'd rather avoid. If the church pushed too hard and ended up making the Saintess clam up completely, it would be a loss the order couldn't afford. So the church turned a blind eye to skipping over trivial dreams or glossing over embarrassing ones. It was a kind of tacit agreement meant to protect the Saintess's honor and keep her happy. Because of that overwhelming high point where a single vision could change a nation's fate, the omission and concealment of records was paradoxically tolerated under the name of flexibility. It really was a strange irony.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that just by receiving the single power of prophetic vision, a Saintess can instantly snatch the position of second-in-command in the church. It's the very definition of a 'free meal' kind of life. So if you take away that amazing prophetic vision, what does a Saintess actually do? Well, nothing particularly impressive. She does some volunteer work to win over public sentiment, does a bit of missionary work on the side, and at events she dresses up fancy and plays the part of a smiling doll in front of the believers. She occasionally joins expeditions into the Demon Realm, but it's usually just staying in the rear under protection, healing the injured, or throwing around a few buffs, so it's not all that dangerous. Besides, these extra activities are optional, not mandatory, so there's no reason to go out of her way to suffer. It's a life where you just enjoy special privileges inside the church, living comfortably while dreaming dreams for the rest of your days.

But I couldn't do that. The place I ended up transmigrating into was the world of a web novel, and the body I possessed belonged to a supporting character who suffers every kind of miserable fate before collapsing: Beatrice, the Saintess of the Eris Church.

The original Beatrice was a timid, fragile hothouse flower. That fragility made her the perfect prey for hyena-like humans, and sure enough, she gets her body and mind completely trampled by Cassian, the hero candidate of the Eris Church who hides his ugly true nature as the villain. The moment I let my guard down, it was obvious my future would cruelly collapse just like the original Beatrice's. The one silver lining was that I'd possessed Beatrice's body when she was still young. I had plenty of time to prepare for the disasters that would come.

I didn't choose to develop outstanding qualities as a Saintess. Instead, I chose to become a warrior strong enough to crush every threat on my own. I roared battle cries instead of reciting gentle prayers, and I took up a spear instead of a holy scripture. Rather than staying behind a safe protective barrier in the rear, I led the holy knights on the blood-soaked front lines and cut down the necks of demonic beasts. Fortunately, this body had exceptional talent for martial arts, and when I added desperate effort on top of that, I was able to achieve countless accomplishments in the Demon Realm. The nickname given to someone like me was none other than the 'Silver Holy Spear'. At this point, even if you stripped away the title of Saintess, my name carried enough weight that no one could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ignore me. Add to that the authority of being the Saintess of the Eris Church, one of the seven major holy orders? Even a king of a nation wouldn't dare treat me carelessly.

But even someone like me had one worry I couldn't speak about. It was the savage nightmares that had been persistently tormenting me lately.

The dream I had this time began in a peaceful scene. It was a gentle afternoon with sunlight softly pouring down. I was tossing and turning on a fluffy, cozy bed sheet, enjoying its texture, when I slowly lifted my eyelids at the feeling of the bed shifting as someone sat beside me and the sensation of a hand gently stroking my hair.

A low, sweet voice. When I turned my head, there was a black-haired man sitting at the bedside, looking down at me. His gaze, sweet as if drizzled with honey, slowly swept over my face. I smiled shyly like a girl head over heels in love and threw off the blanket covering me to welcome him warmly.

The coquettish voice that flowed from my lips felt so foreign it gave me goosebumps.

He looked at the leather strap wrapped around my neck and asked in surprise. I blushed a little in embarrassment and carefully picked up the end of the metal chain connected to the leather strap, offering it to him.

A submissive confession I'd never uttered in my entire life flowed from my lips. The face of the man who took the chain from me in a daze wasn't clearly visible because of the backlighting, but he seemed a bit startled.

At my answer, he let out a low laugh.

The gentle demeanor vanished completely. With a low, cold voice, he roughly yanked the chain I'd handed him. Clank! My vision was forcibly jerked upward along with the sharp metallic sound. As I gasped and choked from the rough treatment, his face slowly drew closer. And when our faces were so close that we could hear each other's breathing...

“Eeeeek!”

With a loud thud, I rolled off the bed and woke up. My whole body was drenched in cold sweat, and my sweat-soaked silver hair clung to my face like spiderwebs in the most unpleasant way. Even after waking, the vivid afterimage of the dream clung to me, making my stomach churn.

“Ugh... eu...”

At the wave of nausea, I reflexively covered my mouth. After raising my holy power to calm my insides, I touched my neck. What I felt wasn't the texture of leather, but smooth, soft skin. Only then did a faint sigh of relief escape me.

“...This has been a real fucking shitshow lately.”

I didn't even have the strength to climb back onto the bed, so I just lay sprawled on the floor and spat out curses. I'd had dreams of sweetly dating a man a few times before. Yeah, sure. That was already disgustingly unpleasant, but my current body was female, and humans are basically slaves to their hormones. I could concede that much—hell, a thousand times over.

“But what the hell was that dream just now!”

My head felt like it was boiling with rage. What was most horrifying was that the setting of the dream I'd just had was my own room in the church. In that familiar scenery, I was lying naked on the bed without a single thread on my body. The body I glimpsed was covered in ugly, mottled brands. Traces of abuse. There was no other way to describe it. The question of how I could have stayed still while suffering such treatment crossed my mind, but what was even harder to believe was the reaction I'd shown toward the man who had clearly done those horrible things.

Hadn't I put a collar on my own neck and politely offered him the end of the chain?

Just remembering that horrifically sweet nasal tone that had come from my own mouth sent chills across my entire body.

“Ugh... this is fucking ridiculous.”

My eyes must have been completely gone. Either I'd been on drugs or tortured until my mind had snapped. There was no other explanation.

“And that thing at the end... wasn't he clearly about to... k-kiss me?”

What is a kiss between a man and a woman? Isn't it the sacred and final ritual that betrothed partners ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who have sworn to share their lives perform before countless guests under the Goddess's blessing? Yet not only had I given my bed in my room to some nameless bastard, I was about to offer him my lips too. It was a good thing I woke up before our lips touched, or my soul would have suffered an irreparable wound.

Yes, this wasn't just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a simple nightmare. It was a vicious dream that shook my identity as a man and my morals as a human being from the very foundation.

But at that moment, one fact I absolutely didn't want to think about flashed through my mind.

The Saintess's dreams are prophetic visions. The power given only to the Saintess that foresees a future that will one day come to pass.

“...Don't fucking mess with me.”

I shook my head, shaking off thoughts about prophetic visions. A prophetic vision wasn't a fixed future. It could be twisted any number of ways. In fact, I'd already twisted quite a few prophecies up until now. The way to make sure a future like that never came was simple. If someone tried to pull that kind of shit with me, I'd just split their skull in two, whoever they were. Then, unless I went completely insane and offered up my own body, there was no way the prophecy would come true. Thinking about it that way made me feel a lot lighter.

The only problem right now was that because of that damned dream, I hadn't been able to sleep properly for over a week. The moment I closed my eyes, that bastard's dream would come without fail. I was sick and tired of waking up screaming. Thanks to the forced insomnia that had continued for a whole week, my body felt as heavy as if I were walking through a swamp, and my mind was hazy like I was wandering through a dream. Even suppressing the fatigue with holy power was reaching its limit.

While I was blankly blinking and staring at the ceiling, the commotion outside made me slowly sit up.

“It's an attack! A demonic beast attack! Everyone, form up and prepare!”

A demonic beast attack? Our current location was the outermost edge of the Demon Realm. At most, a few low-level demonic beasts would crawl out here. I wondered if the holy knight order really needed to make such a fuss. As I was about to lie back down, the composition of the expedition force flashed through my mind.

'...Oh, right. We came all the way out to the outskirts to let the novice holy knights gain some experience.'

Not remembering that right away—had my head stopped working properly from lack of sleep? The demonic beasts living on the outskirts of the Demon Realm were nothing more than toys to proper holy knights, but they were threatening enough for novices. Leonid was here as the vice commander, but it would be better if I helped out to wrap things up quickly.

“...I won't need the Holy Vestments for this.”

I didn't want to wear the Holy Vestments against some trash demonic beasts on the outskirts of the Demon Realm. No matter how good their performance was, the design of the Holy Vestments was heavily influenced by our Goddess's perverted tastes... it was a scrap of cloth so revealing it was embarrassing to even call it clothing. I had zero intention of becoming eye candy for the novices while wearing that.

After letting out a small sigh, I roughly threw on just a knight's coat over the simple clothes I'd worn to sleep. Then I picked up Astra, the holy spear I'd left leaning against the bed. The heavy chill of steel against my palm seemed to clear away some of the fog in my head. I pulled back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the tent flap. Along with the faint light of dawn came the unpleasant stench unique to demonic beasts, hitting me right in the nose.

“Report the situation.”

I grabbed the back of the neck of one of the novice holy knights who was running around urgently announcing the situation and muttered lowly.

“S-Saintess? Th-that is...! What happened was... I was on watch, and suddenly there was fog, no, some kind of sound...”

The words spilled out without order, his face deathly pale. Had he gone into a panic from the demonic beast attack? No way. Even though they were novices, they weren't the type to panic over an attack from beasts that only lived on the outskirts. Only then did I realize that because of my prolonged insomnia, killing intent was slowly leaking out from my body. I quickly pulled it back in and infused a bit of holy power into the novice holy knight's body to forcibly calm him down.

“Hey, sorry. Did I scare you? You should be calm now, so give me a quick summary of the situation.”

“Th-there was a sudden attack by a massive number of demonic beasts. Still, the holy knights on watch responded quickly, and those who were resting in camp are gradually joining in.”

“Good, that's enough.”

The moment I tried to move, the novice blocked my path.

“Saintess! Your complexion looks really bad. No matter how strong you are, you should leave this place to us and get some rest...”

There was genuine worry in the novice's eyes as he stood in my way. The unexpected consideration made me let out a dry laugh.

'...To think a greenhorn novice is worried about me. Do I really look that terrible right now?'

Well, I hadn't slept properly for a week, so I supposed it made sense. But there was probably another reason mixed into the kid's consideration.

The 'Silver Holy Spear'. My publicly known nickname was the result of my achievements in the Demon Realm, my own martial prowess, and the church leadership's meticulous PR strategy working together. The image of a noble and strong Saintess who stood at the very front of battle was perfect for inspiring the believers' faith and squeezing out donations. Those in the know understood the church's strategy to some extent, which was why there were a few among the outsiders and even the newly arrived novices who dismissed my nickname as nothing more than 'image-making'. If they'd seen me fighting demonic beasts even once, or watched me beat the proper holy knights to a pulp in the training grounds, they wouldn't be saying that.

I lightly spun Astra and rested it on my shoulder. The novice flinched at the sight of the heavy spear being handled like a toy.

“Hey.”

“...Yes?”

“...Yeees? Oh? What's your name, kid?”

“E-Eric, ma'am.”

E-Eric, huh. What a uniquely annoying name. Once you become a proper knight, I'll make sure to give you plenty of tender loving care through sparring. You've got a big build, so plenty of places to hit. Just thinking about it made a grin creep across my face.

“Alright. E-Eric. Stop worrying about useless things and go kick the asses of any idiots still sprawled out sleeping to wake them up.”

Seeming to sense something indescribably ominous in my smile, the kid's face turned deathly pale. I gave his shoulder a light pat and dashed straight toward the battlefield. Slaughtering some demonic beasts should help lift this mood that had sunk to rock bottom. Sorry about this, but you'll have to be my stress relief targets for a bit.

Gripping the holy spear Astra tightly, I stepped toward where the foul stench of demonic beasts was coming from.