Please Tell Me You Could Control It
Please tell me you could control it.
The Demon Realm expedition took about a week. In terms of time alone, it wasn't that long, but this particular trip felt unusually drawn out. I suspected the dog-like nightmares that haunted me every night had something to do with it. Thankfully, once I returned to my room in the church and fell asleep, I slept like a rock without a single dream. The week of sleepless nights must have pushed my mental and physical exhaustion to the limit, because when I finally came to, morning had already slipped away hours ago.
“...Ah, I missed the dawn prayer and training.”
I stared blankly at the brilliant sunlight pouring through the window and muttered to myself. Waking at dawn to pray to the Goddess, then heading to the training grounds to swing my spear lightly and loosen up my body—that had been my unbreakable routine ever since I started living as a saintess. But today I was already late, and my body still felt heavy as lead, fatigue clinging to every limb. Since it had come to this, I decided to just lounge around for the entire day.
I pulled the fluffy, soft blanket back over myself and burrowed deeper into the bed. After enjoying the scent of sunlight on the sheets and their gentle texture for a while, I gazed absently at the ceiling and murmured, “Hmm… I guess the environment in the Demon Realm really was the problem?”
The Demon Realm wasn’t human territory—it belonged to demonic beasts and demons. A place ordinary humans could never set foot in. Beyond the obvious threat of demonic beasts that normal people couldn’t handle, the biggest issue was the erosion caused by the demonic energy that permeated the entire region. The only power capable of offsetting and purifying that erosion was holy power. That’s why entering the Demon Realm required either a priest’s accompaniment, blessed armor or weapons, an artifact, or plenty of holy water. Ignoring that ironclad rule and rushing in unprotected was practically suicide by demonic erosion.
What I was trying to say was that no matter how many years I’d spent casually coming and going from the Demon Realm like it was my own backyard, it was still an incredibly harsh place. So having those shitty nightmares there wasn’t all that strange. Right? It wasn’t strange… right?
“Hwaaam…”
After rolling around lazily in bed for a long time, I stretched and finally got up. My stiff joints popped loudly. I took a shower, then stepped out of my room. First, I took a leisurely stroll near the knights’ training grounds. In the distance, I could hear Knight Commander Vargas’s thunderous shouts. Watching the holy knights rolling around in the dirt, I thought, I used to roll around like that too, and a fond smile crept across my face. Might as well watch a little longer. With that thought, I sat down on the grass and idly enjoyed the sight of the holy knights tumbling across the ground.
“Saintess! You must be exhausted from the Demon Realm expedition. Would you like some of this?”
While I was sitting there, the female priests approached with bright smiles, offering me cool fruit juice and sweet cookies. I spent some time sitting on the lawn with them, chatting about nothing in particular, before moving on again. After my light walk, I stopped by the church library, picked out a few books, tucked them under my arm, and headed back to my room.
These small, peaceful moments of daily life in the church were my greatest joy. Every time I enjoyed them, I renewed my vow that no matter what happened, I would protect this place.
In the original novel, our church was the first to fall pathetically. The saintess became Cassian’s plaything, the Pope lay bedridden, and the knight order was a disorganized mess. But I had no intention of letting that happen.
In the original story, the Pope—Grandfather—had grown so ill he was confined to his bed, then imprisoned by Cassian before dying alone. The novel described how his vitality faded day by day, how he lost weight, and eventually even went blind. The priests had packaged it as a noble death, saying his faith was so profound that his body couldn’t contain his soul and had burned away. But to a modern person like me, it just looked like classic complications from diabetes.
Think about it. Grandfather had been a warrior, so he had plenty of muscle mass, but as he aged and took on the Pope’s seat, his activity naturally decreased. Yet he was still eating the same high-calorie, greasy, sweet foods as when he was in active duty. On top of that, when he seemed low on energy, the priests would say “You must eat only the best” and serve him even sweeter, more delicious meals. That was practically killing the old man.
So the first thing I did was change Grandfather’s diet.
“Grandfather, no more white bread starting today. Eat whole grain bread. Cut back on sweets, meat, and alcohol too!”
He must have known his health was deteriorating, because when I told him this would help him recover, he followed my instructions without complaint. Thanks to that, he was now maintaining vigor comparable to his prime instead of the sickly state from the original story.
Knight Commander Vargas, who was supposed to die in an unexpected accident in the Demon Realm—I’d kept him tied to the church using the excuse of “prophetic dreams.” He looked a bit bitter about it, but when I asked, “If not you, then who’s going to protect our church? You want me to hand the position to Leonid?” he immediately nodded in understanding. So Vargas was still alive, serving as our church’s reliable shield.
The same went for Leonid. In the original story, he was an arrogant, self-indulgent bastard who harassed the female priests and drowned himself in alcohol. But the current him was different. That was because I’d beaten the crap out of him until he became a decent human being. He still acts cheeky sometimes, but deep down he’s become a sincere and trustworthy guy.
My preparations were perfect. There was no way I’d be swept up by the original story’s fate anymore.
“Saintess.”
While I was walking back to my room with the books, I heard a familiar voice. When I turned my head, the Pope was standing there with a benevolent smile.
“Ah, Your Holiness.”
“I was just walking where my feet took me and happened to run into you. How about it? Would you care to have a cup of tea and chat for a while?”
“That sounds good. I actually had something I needed to discuss with you anyway.”
I needed to talk about the strange signs I’d witnessed in the Demon Realm. Leonid had probably already submitted a report as deputy commander, but that alone wouldn’t be enough. I followed the Pope to his office.
The office reflected his upright and gentle personality—simple yet filled with warmth. Once the heavy door closed and we were alone, I dropped all formality and flopped onto the sofa.
“Grandpa, how’s your body been lately?”
“Hehe, thanks to your concern, I’m still quite healthy. In fact, I feel more energetic than when I was young.”
Since there were no eyes on us in the office, I asked about his well-being without any formalities. Now that I’d confirmed Grandfather’s health, it was time to get to the main topic.
“The Demon Realm has been acting strange lately.”
“I heard from the deputy knight commander. You were attacked by hundreds of demonic beasts even though you were only at the outskirts?”
“Yeah. It was like they were being commanded by someone.”
“Moving in perfect coordination as if under someone’s command…”
The Pope rubbed his deeply furrowed brow and fell silent. After a long moment, he spoke again.
“There are two possibilities.”
“What are they?”
“The first is that demonic beasts from deeper inside the Demon Realm migrated outward, pushing the outer ones ahead of them. It’s a phenomenon that happens occasionally.”
It was a possibility I had considered too. But there were too many strange points for that explanation.
“There were way too many beasts. And the ones that were pushed out just happened to attack us? At dawn, when our guard would be at its lowest? Doesn’t that seem too suspicious?”
“Then we must consider the second possibility. Though it’s not one I want to believe…”
His expression darkened noticeably. I instinctively knew what he was about to say.
“The Archdemons of the Seven Sins, who have been silent for so long, may have begun moving again.”
The Archdemons of the Seven Sins who resided in the deepest parts of the Demon Realm. Their movement would signal the end of this peaceful era. In other words, it meant the original story was about to begin.
My face crumpled into a frown.
“I believe the latter possibility is more likely. What do you think, Saintess?”
“...I think the chances are high for that too.”
“If they have begun to move, they will try to destroy the Sectia Holy Empire first. Whenever they start taking action, they always try to remove Sectia—the greatest obstacle—first.”
I nodded silently.
“It’s possible that the demons’ servants or followers have already set foot within Sectia’s borders.”
“We need to prepare.”
“Indeed. The Seven Holy Seats Council will be held soon, so we should submit this as an agenda item then.”
After speaking, the Pope took a sip of tea to moisten his throat.
“Saintess.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know which demon stands as our church’s greatest opposing force?”
“Yeah, isn’t it Lilith, the Archdemon of Lust from the Seven Sins?”
Lilith, the Archdemon bearing the sin of lust among the Seven Sins. She was our church’s mortal enemy.
“Correct. While her raw power ranks at the bottom among the Seven Sins, she is a cunning demon who prefers to destroy her enemies from within using elaborate schemes. Not to mention the complexity and difficulty of the curses she employs.”
I frowned at the Pope’s words. Elaborate schemes and complex, tricky curses. My style was to smash through any obstacle with pure force. In a way, we were perfectly positioned to strike at each other’s weaknesses.
“Therefore, if that demon makes a move, it’s highly likely she will target you, me, or the knight commander first.”
“I’ll have to be careful.”
Was Lilith also the reason the Pope and knight commander met their fates in the original story? Was she why Beatrice and the Eris Church were ruined? …I couldn’t be certain, but it was worth suspecting.
“Have you experienced anything unusual lately? No matter how small.”
“Nothing unusu—”
I stopped mid-sentence. The nightmares I’d had in the Demon Realm had come to mind.
“There is something, I see.”
The Pope’s sharp gaze settled on my face. After a brief hesitation, I left out the specific details of the dreams and only shared the surface facts.
“...Lately, while I was in the Demon Realm, my dreams were quite violent. Bad enough that I couldn’t sleep a wink for the whole week.”
“Hmm… Dreams are one of Lilith’s powers. Of course, even an Archdemon shouldn’t be able to freely manipulate a saintess’s dreams, but…”
No, please just say she could control them, Grandfather.
“There is a chance she could distort them to some degree. Naturally, that would only be possible while you were in the Demon Realm, the demons’ domain. She shouldn’t be able to reach you here.”
“...Really?”
Hearing the Pope’s words brought me some relief. It meant that horrible dream was likely not my future, but one of that crazy bitch Lilith’s tricks to mess with my mind.
...Then what about the dream where I went on a date with a guy in the church and acted all cute in his arms?
Shut up.
“If you’re worried, perhaps you should ask the Goddess later? She should be able to give you a clear answer.”
“Got it. Thanks for the advice, Grandfather.”
With that, our discussion about the Demon Realm’s movements and the recent unsettling atmosphere came to an end.
“Ah, Saintess. Have you met Grand Priest Bartholomew since returning from the expedition?”
“...No?”
My heart sank at the Pope’s casual question. Why was that old man’s name coming up all of a sudden? There were too many things I felt guilty about, so I carefully watched the Pope’s expression.
“He was desperately looking for you. He visited my office so often he nearly wore down the threshold, asking when you would return.”
“Fuck… I mean, this is bad.”
It was clear that old man Bartholomew was seriously angry. …But what exactly was he angry about? Skipping classes? Getting caught sleeping in the grass using a thick scripture as a pillow and drooling all over it? Sneaking into the church’s wine storage, drinking with the holy knights until I was so drunk I conducted morning mass while still half-asleep? …What was it? There were so many possibilities that I couldn’t even guess.
“Hehe, it’s good to see you so energetic, Saintess, but please don’t torment that friend’s heart too much. Seeing his forehead grow wider with each passing day pains me as his old friend.”
“Can’t you just heal that with holy power?”
“……”
The Pope didn’t answer my question. He simply wore a kind smile that couldn’t hide the deep, troubled sorrow beneath it.
“You can’t?”
“……”
“Oh my god.”
Even a miracle from God couldn’t fix it? I was suddenly overwhelmed by a massive wave of guilt. I was certain a significant portion of that expanding forehead was my responsibility.
I really need to stop stressing the old man out so much.
I bowed to the Pope, left the office, and made a firm resolution in my heart. How long that resolution would last, though, I couldn’t say.