Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Does the Saintess Dream of the Sacrifice?
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…Of course, we still live in a society where religious freedom is guaranteed.
If you're American, you can boldly call them 'full-time, unpaid, all-purpose servants.'
Calling them 'higher-dimensional energy beings' to sound sophisticated is also no problem.
But one piece of advice: don't become an atheist.
They can't even be the butt of jokes anymore.
『God is Not Great』 Excerpt
***
Lord Howe Academy's training room.
In the center of a pristine white room coated with mana metal on both walls and floor, Seti stood with her eyes closed.
Perhaps because it was dawn, the training room was quiet. No one came, and no one disturbed her.
Seti loved this silence. She savored the long-lost quiet to her heart's content, then at some point opened her eyes and slowly lifted her warhammer into a sluggish stance.
The warhammer issued by the academy was just a crude lump of metal, but Seti didn't mind.
Unless it was made by dwarves, all warhammers were more or less the same. No expectations meant no disappointments, right? As long as it didn't break when swung, that was enough.
In that sense, the academy-issued one was neither good nor bad…
She thought that as she slowly swung the warhammer.
The hammer, swung without mana in precise form, squeezed every muscle in her body.
From her heels to her trapezius. All her muscles simultaneously withstood the weight and recoil.
Just a few swings beaded sweat on her forehead, but Seti gradually increased her speed.
Faster, heavier, stronger.
The moment her muscles screamed that they could move no more, she summoned mana.
Whoosh!
The warhammer, tracing a sluggish arc, accelerated in an instant. Air split wherever the hammerhead passed, stirring gusts of wind.
Once, twice, three times… The hammer accelerated faster with each swing. Violent as a storm and unpredictable as thunder, the motion unfolded from Seti's fingertips.
In the midst of that raging storm, the training room door suddenly burst open.
"Sis?"
Peeking through the door was a red-haired girl. The moment Seti saw her amber eyes sparkling like topaz, she stopped the hammer.
Hwoosh—the wind filling the training room vanished in an instant. Seti brushed back her sweat-soaked hair and looked at her sister.
"Siri? What's up?"
She should have been annoyed at the interruption, but Seti greeted her sister with a calm expression.
Siri looked at her with a strange face, then pulled out her smartphone and scurried over to Seti.
"Sis, check out this news!"
"What? What is it?"
"Cheon Yeomyeong, that oppa, he's on the news!"
"What? Really?"
Seti tossed the warhammer aside and snatched the smartphone Siri held out. Articles from major media outlets were lined up on the screen.
『Today's North Manchuria – Casualties in the hundreds.』
『North Manchuria Base Falls. Cause: Mysterious Terrorist Group?』
『Manchuria Again? National Assembly Pushes 'Supplemental Budget,' Finance Ministry 'Objects'』
『Massive Monsters Moving South… Manchurians Tremble in Fear』
Amid the scrolling list of articles, a photo of Cheon Yeomyeong appeared. And the headline was…
『Young Mercenary and Saintess in Miraculous Battle.』
What? Saintess? Why the hell is that bitch in Manchuria?
Seti reflexively tapped the article.
Her face twisted horrifically after reading the short piece.
"Um, sis?"
Seti immediately found and read the next article. With each line she scrolled, her grip tightened on the smartphone.
"Sis, that's… my phone…"
Siri alternated glances between the smartphone and Seti's face, her eyes half expectant, half anxious.
But her voice no longer reached Seti.
Seti glared at the smartphone like she was about to shoot lasers from her eyes, reading and rereading the news about Yeomyeong and the Saintess.
The articles all said much the same thing.
For some reason, the Saintess had stepped up to save North Manchuria, and two mercenaries had helped her fight a dragon(?).
Details were censored for military reasons, but the tabloids were the problem.
They spun stories as if the Saintess and the young mercenary had met for some 'fateful' reason.
Some were scandalously provocative, enough to shock the religious world—and one happened to be featured on the portal main page.
'The Saintess standing side by side with the young mercenary, her face flushed red…'
Seti knew the article was fake the moment she read it.
The Saintess was a damn voyeur who wandered in a cloak of invisibility and never showed her face to reporters.
But knowing and holding back were two different things.
The moment she read the line about their 'hands clasped secretly,' Seti could no longer contain herself.
Crack.
The smartphone crumpled like an aluminum can in her hand. Seeing her worry come true, Siri shrieked.
"Sis!"
"Oh, uh…"
Seti came to her senses too late and tried to make excuses, but Siri was a good sister.
She patted the flustered Seti's shoulder and grinned.
"It's okay, it's okay. You're just scared the Saintess will steal him again, right?"
"…Siri. Steal? What are you talking about?"
Whether Seti retorted or not, Siri kept talking without dropping her smirk.
"What else? That guy. You're worried the Saintess will swoop in and snag him midway? Aigoo, was it that scary?"
"…Hey."
"Putting on a straight face won't hide how guilty you look. And sis, come on, think rationally for a sec. You think he'd hook up with the Saintess?"
"Hook up?! What kind of—!"
Stabbed right in the heart, Seti glared daggers. Far from scared, Siri waved her off.
"Stop, stop. That's your problem, sis. You flip out the second the Saintess is mentioned."
"…Do I?"
"Oh, really?"
Siri twitched her eyebrows and crossed her arms. Her yellow eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Wanna bet? No contacting him today."
"…"
"Hold out just one day, your side wins, and I'll forgive you for smashing my phone. Deal?"
As she spoke, Siri slyly pulled out another phone. The burner Seti used to contact Yeomyeong.
"Hey! You, that's…!"
Seti lunged reflexively, but Siri dodged her hand, waving the phone with a smug grin.
"What'cha gonna do?"
From her sly expression, she'd clearly anticipated this before even coming to the training room.
Seti shot her sister a defeated look.
"Gonna bet? Or not?"
Before Siri could finish, Seti snatched the phone.
"A bet? Screw that!"
Leaving her giggling sister's laughter behind, Seti hammered at the phone.
[Hi, Yeomyeong? It's Seti. The reason I'm texting is…]
****
Yeomyeong awoke in a blindingly white recovery room.
His whole body ached. Sitting up in the stiff hospital bed jostled the IV in his arm.
"Yo, you're up."
Turning toward the chipper voice, he saw two familiar hands floating in the air beside him.
The Saintess, hidden behind her cloak of invisibility.
She was peeling an apple—or rather, butchering it.
Yeomyeong averted his eyes from the pitiful fruit and asked.
"…Where are we?"
"Manchuria Base National Military Hospital."
"…"
"You passed out during the interview, so they brought you here right away."
Hearing the Saintess's explanation snapped Yeomyeong back to last night.
Not long after Kahal Magdu left, they encountered an overwhelming force of reinforcements.
The reinforcements didn't treat the Saintess and Yeomyeong as survivors. They interrogated them relentlessly about what exactly had happened in North Manchuria.
Threatening that even the Saintess wouldn't get off easy if it was a false alarm.
But the fall of North Manchuria was undeniable reality. After confirming the Pig Head freak and soldier corpses, command released them without fuss.
It should have ended there… but then came the problem.
The reporters the Saintess had warned about—they swarmed in, and that was the real interrogation.
They weren't the respectable war correspondents Yeomyeong knew. Those probably went north with the reinforcements.
Anyway, the reporters surrounding Yeomyeong and the Saintess shoved mics and cameras in their faces, citing the public's right to know.
—Why come to North Manchuria instead of the entrance ceremony? Did you receive some prophecy?
—What's your relationship with the young mercenary?
—What do the gods think of this incident?
—Is it true you two fought Kahal Magdu together?
From inappropriate to reasonable questions.
The interview-disguised inquisition dragged on until sunrise.
It was so infuriating that Yeomyeong even thought beating up a reporter or two might not be so bad—fame be damned.
But he didn't actually punch any. Exhaustion got the better of him, and he blacked out.
And now.
Yeomyeong looked at the apple reduced to core and spoke.
"…So, why are you still here, Saintess?"
"Worried about my comrade-in-arms?"
"Cut the crap."
"It's true."
The Saintess snickered and set the apple down. After a pause, she picked the next victim from the fruit basket. This time, an expensive-looking pear.
Crunch, crunch.
After mangling the pear's skin for a bit, she suddenly spoke.
"You, what's your deal with the Holy Sword?"
"…Holy Sword?"
"Perea Khan. The Great Usurper. Shame of the Holy Knight Order."
Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes without answering.
She recognized the Comet Sword? No, she must have, to ask this.
He recalled the relationship between the Holy Sword and the Saintess. They both served holy gods on the surface, but were practically enemies.
The Holy Kingdom beyond the dimensional gate refused to accept an unbeliever—worse, an Earthling—chosen by the Holy Sword.
Protests of "How dare you question God's choice?" fell on deaf ears. They claimed it wasn't God, but the Holy Sword choosing Perea Khan.
Perea Khan, if you're truly confident, come to the Holy Kingdom's five great temples and face the trials.
That's what the Holy Kingdom demanded of Perea Khan. Of course, the Australian government and Perea Khan ignored them.
The Holy Sword was a strategic weapon equivalent to a nuke in itself.
In short, the Saintess, recognized by the Holy Kingdom, and Perea Khan's Holy Sword were political foes.
So… the Saintess mentioning Perea Khan was anything but good intentions.
Sorting his thoughts, Yeomyeong spoke again.
"Why ask about my relation to Perea Khan?"
"…Dodging the question means there really is something."
The Saintess sighed deeply. The knife slipped, chunking the pear. What a waste of good fruit.
Regardless of the pear's fate, she continued.
"Are you Perea Khan's disciple?"
"No."
"Then lover?"
"…"
"Your face says no… Don't tell me, his son??"
Yeomyeong scowled in her direction. Embarrassed by her own question, she cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Ahem, look at that face. Can't take a joke?"
"…One more dumb joke like that, and I'll kick you out of this room."
"Je ez, so touchy. So, what's your real connection to Perea Khan?"
The Saintess's hand drew closer. Hidden by the cloak, but probably peering at his face.
Yeomyeong sighed and answered.
"Just one of those fleeting encounters."
Hearing the curt reply, the Saintess spun her knife with a flourish—impressive for her abysmal knife skills.
"A fleeting encounter… Well, no big deal then."
Swish, clack. Finishing her trick, she set the knife down and added.
"Sorry for the rude question. I figured if you're tight with Perea Khan, the old fogeys would throw a fit if we worked together."
"…Work? Throw a fit?"
"Yeah, work. Humanitarian stuff—deal with the southbound monsters, grab some things in Manchuria without the old fogeys knowing."
"…"
Yeomyeong tilted his head, confused. The Saintess prattled on.
"It might be sudden, but after fighting Kahal Magdu, it hit me. I'm the Saintess, shouldn't I have a bodyguard or something? You know, that kinda thing."
The moment she finished, Yeomyeong tsked inwardly. So that's what this is…
"If you're looking for a bodyguard, commission other mercenaries. Any merc group in Manchuria can find someone better than me."
"Rejecting without hearing the terms?"
"Of course. We're not exactly buddies who met on good terms. If anything, I suspect your sudden offer."
"…Hey, watch your tone."
"If you don't like mercenaries, call a Holy Knight. They'd line up for bodyguard duty. Anyway, I'm passing."
Caught off guard by the firm refusal, the Saintess trembled with clenched fists and pursed lips.
After a moment, she pulled out her smartphone from under the cloak.
"Hey, which merc group did you say again?"
"…What?"
"Found it. Seonjuk Mercenary Corps Team 3, Cheon Yeomyeong."
Before Yeomyeong could respond, she shot to her feet. The dishes with mangled apple and pear rattled.
"Fine, I'll just buy the mercenary."
Through the invisible cloak, Yeomyeong could swear he saw her smirking.
* * *