Chapter 6
Chapter 6
I Really Did Live Hard
When a Pope or Saintess is chosen, they discard their old name and receive a new one directly from their god.
The Pope, Silvesta.
And the Saintess, Beatrice.
A name personally bestowed by the goddess of love and battle, Eris herself.
…In other words, no matter how much I whined about changing it, there was absolutely no chance.
Well, whatever. What’s important isn’t the packaging, it’s what’s inside, right?
That was how I comforted myself as I began my life as a Saintess.
Life as a Saintess was simple, yet demanding.
At dawn, I woke early for prayer and mass. Some might have found it tedious, but I actually liked the soft sound of the prayers echoing through the halls. More importantly, prayer helped me sense and refine the divine power sleeping within me.
The mornings and afternoons, which were technically supposed to be free time, were instead spent receiving combat training from Captain Vargas of the Holy Knights.
When I first declared that I wanted to train alongside the knights, Vargas had shouted with absolute conviction—
“Not until dirt fills my eyes!”
But when both the goddess and His Holiness the Pope had already given permission, what exactly was a mere Holy Knight Captain supposed to do about it?
Just in case, I had secretly prepared a final contingency plan by bringing a handful of dirt with me.
Thankfully, I never had to use it.
“Even if you are the Saintess, during training I will treat you no differently from the other knights. No, if anything, your training must be even harsher.”
That was what Vargas said when he finally accepted me.
I had immediately tossed the dirt in my hand onto the ground and grinned brightly.
I still remembered the way Vargas’s eyes twitched violently as he watched the dirt fall.
As for weapons, I chose the spear.
I had tried swords, axes, battle axes, maces, and all sorts of other weapons, but after spending my days as a street brat carrying around a wooden stick, the spear felt the most natural in my hands.
Vargas was an incredibly rigid man of principles. Even if I was the Saintess, he never gave me special treatment during training.
Still, he was an excellent teacher.
At first, he clearly hated the idea of a Saintess learning combat. But once he saw me enduring the training without complaint and absorbing everything I learned at frightening speed, he started smiling in satisfaction and bringing me snacks afterward.
And the Holy Knights who had hesitated—
“How are we supposed to spar with the Saintess? What if she gets hurt? What if she cries?”
Or—
“The Saintess wants to learn martial arts? Isn’t this just childish curiosity?”
Those same knights began looking at me differently once I started mercilessly beating them down with practice sticks and sending them to the infirmary.
At night, I studied dull scriptures under High Priest Bartholomew.
Falling asleep during lessons because of exhaustion, skipping class to nap in hidden corners, and then getting startled awake by the old man’s furious yelling eventually became an everyday occurrence in the Order.
Finally, before bed, I would spread parchment across my desk, pick up a quill, and rack my brain.
“…Damn it. I barely remember anything from the original story.”
You know those scenes in possession novels, right?
The protagonist writes down everything they know about the original story and uses it like an answer sheet whenever something happens.
…Unfortunately, I had spent half a year barely surviving as a homeless brat the moment I arrived in this world.
Because of that, most of my memories of the webtoon had become frustratingly vague.
On top of that, I had dropped the series halfway through, so it wasn’t an exaggeration to say I remembered almost nothing.
Hell, I could barely remember the protagonist’s name.
The only fortunate thing was that the part I had quit on happened to be the Eris Order arc, and maybe because it had been so horrifying, those memories had stayed relatively clear.
It was honestly amazing that I remembered the Eris Order in detail while forgetting even the main character’s name.
[Pope Silvesta: Falls ill, is imprisoned by Cassian, and dies alone.]
[Captain Vargas: Didn’t appear in the story. I think it mentioned the previous captain died in the Demon Realm.]
[Leonid: This bastard was the captain in the original. Don’t remember much, but I do remember he was a total thug.]
[Cassian: Son of a bitch.]
“Mmm… okay, I’ve squeezed out every memory I can. But how the hell am I supposed to deal with this?”
I tapped the quill against my chin in frustration.
“First, I need to take care of Grandpa Pope’s health… warn Captain Vargas to be careful whenever he enters the Demon Realm, or just go with him myself… Leonid’s still young, so I can probably beat him into becoming a decent person… but what the hell am I supposed to do about that asshole Cassian?”
That was how I spent my nights, scribbling down fragments of memory onto parchment before sleep.
And amid those busy days, time flowed by like water.
When I turned fifteen, I finally entered real combat for the first time.
I wish it had turned into some overpowered power fantasy where I destroyed everything effortlessly, but reality wasn’t so kind.
The moment I saw an actual demonic beast with my own eyes, I froze in terror and couldn’t do anything.
Several Holy Knights were seriously injured because of me.
That was the day I learned, painfully, that training and real combat were completely different things.
Still, maybe because I had experienced real battle once already, during the next expedition I barely managed to hold myself together and kill a monster.
Of course, afterward the sensation of cutting through a living creature lingered in my hands so vividly that I ended up emptying the entire contents of my stomach and spending the whole night unable to sleep.
But once those clumsy years passed, I eventually became someone who could casually joke around with the knights after killing monsters.
My spearsmanship improved by leaps and bounds as well.
By the time I had earned the title Silver Saint Spear, I had turned twenty and undergone my coming-of-age ceremony.
To celebrate, the goddess personally bestowed upon me the holy vestment and the holy spear Astra.
Astra was truly a perfect weapon.
It adjusted its size and length to suit my body, had a sleek and elegant design, couldn’t be lifted by anyone except me, could change form for easier carrying, and had absurdly efficient divine power conductivity.
Honestly, I could praise it forever.
The first time I received Astra, I even slept hugging it in bed.
That alone should explain how much I loved it.
…But the holy vestment that came with it was another matter entirely.
The moment I used divine power to equip it for the first time, I immediately kicked open the prayer chamber doors and stormed inside to grab the goddess by the collar and shake her violently.
Well, technically she hadn’t descended in person, so “wanted to” would be more accurate.
“Lady Goddess, are you insane?! How am I supposed to wear something like this?!”
In my panic, I had kicked the prayer chamber door wide open without even closing it behind me. Outside, I could hear old man Bartholomew collapsing while clutching the back of his neck at my blasphemous screaming.
But that wasn’t important.
[My, such a passionate reaction. Does that mean you like the holy vestment that much?]
“Like hell I do! What even is this?! This isn’t clothing! It’s scraps of fabric!”
The holy vestment exposed my cleavage shamelessly, while the sides were almost completely open, revealing bare skin.
[You truly don’t understand your own worth. That perfect body, those beautiful curves and firm skin. Hiding such a divine masterpiece beneath dull armor would be a sin.]
“What kind of perverted nonsense is that?! The Saintesses of other Orders wear modest robes that cover them to the neck! Why am I the only one dressed like this?!”
[If you wish to serve me, the goddess of love and battle, then you must first embrace your own beauty. Think about how the other girls in my Order dress.]
“Ugh…”
That part was true.
Compared to other Orders, the priestesses of the Eris Order dressed far more freely and provocatively.
But instead of being ashamed of it, they considered proudly displaying their beauty a virtue.
“…Still, my holy vestment is on another level.”
Seriously, this was too much!
More skin was exposed than covered!
[My dear, you are the highest-ranking woman in the Order. Naturally, your beauty should shine brightest. Besides, you are an adult now, are you not? Ahh, do you know how difficult it was waiting until you came of age?]
“…So even you knew this outfit would’ve been a problem on a minor?”
I glanced down at the outrageous amount of exposed skin and squeezed my eyes shut before speaking sarcastically.
[Of course.]
“Don’t admit it so confidently!”
We bickered back and forth for a while, but the goddess stubbornly insisted—
“I can’t change the holy vestment I gave you. Go away. If you refuse to wear it, I’ll sulk!”
It was childish, yet bizarrely firm.
And since the performance was genuinely incredible, I ultimately had no choice but to accept it through gritted teeth.
Anyway, after receiving Astra and the holy vestment, I spent another year throwing myself into the Demon Realm.
Summarizing it like this made it sound simple, but honestly, hadn’t my life been ridiculously eventful?
Thinking about it, I had spent thirteen years after transmigrating working nonstop without rest.
I probably should’ve worked this hard in my previous life too.
The current problem was that I had no idea when the original story actually began.
Cassian would probably join our Order around then too.
…Was there some major incident I remembered? How did the story start again?
“…nim. Noona!”
Just as I sank into thought, a familiar voice yanked me back to reality.
“…You’re loud. What are you so worked up about, Leonid?”
I turned my head after being dragged out of my memories.
At some point, Leonid had woken up and was now calling out to me impatiently.
The giant lump swelling from the top of his head looked so ridiculous that I nearly burst out laughing.
“Don’t laugh, please. Do you know how many times I called you?”
“So why were you desperately calling for me?”
“We’re almost back at the Order.”
“Oh. Already?”
When I looked up at the sky, darkness had already fallen completely.
“Yes, indeed. But what were you even thinking about so deeply that you couldn’t hear me calling? Or were you sleeping? You’ve been complaining about not getting enough sleep lately.”
“No, I wasn’t sleeping. I was just… thinking.”
“…Oh? So you’re capable of elegant things like deep contemplation—”
“Go on. Finish that sentence.”
“…Never mind.”
Why did this bastard always say things that got him beaten?
Maybe he secretly enjoyed getting hit.
“…Hmm.”
I narrowed my eyes while stroking my chin as I stared at Leonid.
This guy looked perfectly normal on the outside, but maybe he had some questionable tastes underneath.
“Noona, the way you’re looking at me is really unpleasant.”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Well, personal preferences deserved respect, I guess.
After arriving at that conclusion, I nodded and looked ahead again.
“I have no idea what conclusion you just reached by yourself, but absolutely not.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Could you at least sound sincere when replying?”
Leonid grumbled in dissatisfaction.
“We’re almost there, so make sure the men are accounted for properly. Double-check the headcount several times. Send the injured straight to the infirmary. And make sure the priests perform purification checks for lingering demonic energy.”
“You do realize that’s originally your job, right?”
“Sorry, but healing and purification really aren’t my thing.”
“What a wonderful thing to brag about.”
For a moment, I almost punched him again, but I endured it.
We were back at the Order now. The Holy Knights needed to be organized and settled in properly.
And that was the vice-captain’s responsibility, not the Saintess’s.
Most of the members on this expedition had been trainees. During battle and the march back, nobody paid much attention, but things were different now.
At the very least, the vice-captain’s dignity needed to survive in front of the rookies.
…Besides, like I said, I genuinely sucked at healing and purification.
I could use healing spells to a degree, but nowhere near the level expected of a Saintess.
As for purification, even trainee priests were better than me.
Most of my divine arts specialized in combat.
Still, even old man Bartholomew, picky as he was, praised my combat enhancement buffs.
And every Order had its own strengths and weaknesses anyway, right?
I was the Saintess of Eris, the goddess of battle as much as love.
So it wasn’t weird at all.
Yeah. Totally reasonable.
“I’m heading in first. Good work out there.”
“Yes, yes. Please get some rest, Saintess.”
“Mhm.”
After waving lightly in response, I turned toward my room deeper within the Order.
“…Huh?”
Suddenly, dizziness struck me, and the world spun violently.
“Saintess? Are you alright?”
Thankfully, Leonid caught me before I collapsed and embarrassed myself.
Smack—
But the moment he touched me, the disgusting sensation from the dreams that had tormented me throughout the expedition surged back vividly.
Reflexively, I slapped his hand away hard and staggered backward several steps.
“Why are you getting mad when I was trying to help? That’s hurtful.”
“…Sorry. You just startled me.”
I apologized with an awkward expression.
No matter what, slapping away the hand of someone trying to keep me from falling was a pretty awful thing to do.
“Saintess, please go get some proper sleep. You genuinely look terrible.”
Normally he would’ve joked, “The Saintess is apologizing? The world really must be ending,” but this time Leonid simply looked worried.
“…Do I look that bad?”
“Yes. You spent the entire expedition looking out of it. At this rate, your dark circles are going to reach your chin.”
“Got it. I should sleep immediately.”
“Please rest well.”
I lightly waved back at his farewell and headed toward my room.
…Praying that tonight, at least, I wouldn’t have that damned dream again.