An Ancient Longing (6)
“So, Levia. What you’re saying is that you lived and died in the same world as the Saintess and the Hero, then reincarnated into this world while retaining your memories?”
“Yep.”
As the meeting was winding down, I gave a brief explanation to those who still didn’t know I was a reincarnated person. I had wanted to press them on exactly what it meant for a disaster to strike Eliaque if my holy power was taken away, but I was forced to keep my mouth shut after receiving a threat disguised as advice.
“Speaking itself is not a problem, Levia. However, to explain that, I would have to reveal the matter of the magi inside your body… Are you prepared to disclose even more of your secrets to them?”
Magi was a power tabooed in this world. It wasn’t so much that it was rejected because only evil beings used it, but because it was extremely dangerous. If I had to compare it to something from Earth, it was roughly in the same category as radiation. Well, the part about only evil beings using it was half true. If there was no one nearby with the power to resist it or the opposing holy power, it could send a person straight to the side of the Goddess of Light, Lumentis, in a single blow. That was why, by human standards, its primary users and uses were tied to crime and war. It was only natural to view it through colored glasses.
It didn’t matter to me personally, but it was obvious that the people around me would receive needless suspicion. Though the chances seemed low, there might still be those who would turn away simply upon learning I harbored magi. That tiny possibility frightened me a little. So for the time being, I would keep it hidden.
“The Saintess and the Hero were your parents in your previous life?”
“Yes.”
“And on top of that, you were originally a man… Hmm… Ah! Aha! Oho! So that’s how it was! Yes! That’s what it was! Kha ha ha hat!”
Grandfather Carlo suddenly burst into laughter as if he had realized something from the secrets I had revealed. Why was he laughing? Did he think I was lying?
“So it wasn’t that ‘elephant’! It was a different ‘elephant’!”
Ah.
“This old man had no idea! I’m sorry, Levia. I was mistaken!!”
S-stop! Grandfather, please stop talking!
“So you didn’t like elephants after all.”
Having witnessed this tremendous (?) truth, Grandfather Carlo apologized to me over and over.
“N-no… that’s not… um…”
This is insane. What am I supposed to say? That later on I started liking those elephant dolls because they were practical (?)? But if I say I like elephants now, it’s going to sound weird in a completely different way! Look, Mint is staring at me with that pitying gaze! D-don’t look at me like that! Those dolls are just cute and soft and nice to hug, that’s all! It’s absolutely, positively, one hundred percent not about filling the void of losing something! Mint! Get your hand off my shoulder right now? I’ll break it? I’ll snap it right off?
“Levia.”
Next, Uncle Dominic spoke to me with an incredibly stiff expression. A bald man covered in scars speaking with that kind of face carried an overwhelming sense of intimidation. The way his eyes gleamed made him look less like a clergyman and more like some kind of evil spirit.
“Don’t you dare set your sights on my daughter. The moment you touch her, you die and I die!”
“What the hell are you saying, you old man!”
This terminal daughter-obsessed uncle had completely locked onto the fact that I used to be a man.
“Father, what on earth are you talking about?!”
See? Even Venica was shouting in utter disbelief. Her face turning bright red made her look exactly like a very pretty tomato.
“Anyway, that’s the kind of person I was~ So I didn’t know, but when I came here, it turned out the Pope was my mom~ That’s the story. So is the meeting pretty much over now?”
“It is. Are you tired, dear?”
Mother’s voice was laced with concern. It had been so long since I felt this ticklish warmth in my chest. The kind that was soft and reassuring.
“Not really. This place is called the Papal Vatican, but isn’t it basically an imperial palace? I want to look around.”
“Now that you mention it, when you were little you said your dream was to live in a palace when you grew up.”
“When the heck was that? I don’t even remember.”
“Well, wouldn’t you remember better than I would? It’s been nearly a hundred years for me, but not for you, right?”
“Ugh.”
Thanks to the damn time axis, I couldn’t argue back. With that kind of pointless chatter, the meeting came to a close.
Only after everyone—both those who wanted to make me the Saintess and those who respected my will regardless—swore to protect me so that my holy power would not be taken away did the meeting truly end. They were such grateful people. I didn’t think I had done much for them, yet here they were, supporting me so deeply. To be honest, most of what I had done for them was simply reacting because I couldn’t turn a blind eye when things came to a head.
The most representative case was with Uncle Dominic and Venica. At the time, I had seen it strictly as a contractual relationship. Then it was revealed that the Clown bastard had gotten involved, the incident grew larger, and I simply responded accordingly. I had also received generous compensation for it. Because of that, Uncle Dominic became a major pillar supporting me in order to repay the favor, and Venica willingly chose to serve me.
With Chesca, it had been closer to a desperate struggle for my own survival. I kept her close because I wanted even one more person on my side. Honestly, I had been surprised that she genuinely felt loyalty toward me. The problem was that, sometimes—no, quite often—that loyalty twisted into something perverted.
The same went for the former members of the Saint Front Knights, now the Levia Knights, who worshipped me like a fanatic. I had simply treated them like friends. I healed them when they were hurt and trained them so they wouldn’t get beaten up elsewhere (?). That was all. Actually, I wish they would change the order’s name even now while it’s not too late. I told Jacob that it might be better to name it after a surname instead, but apparently they had thought the same thing—only for Benedict to firmly declare that a surname was absolutely not allowed.
To summarize, I sometimes felt a burden in these areas. It seemed like I hadn’t done much, yet these people were trying to repay me several times, even dozens of times over. Their hearts felt so heavy that there were moments I wondered if one of the reasons I didn’t want to become the Saintess was simply because I lacked the confidence to bear it all.
Maybe I hated the idea of becoming a coward who turned away from their feelings and ran, so instead of showing it, I kept making other excuses. Why did they want me to become the Saintess? They knew perfectly well that I didn’t want it, yet they tried to persuade me—sometimes through coaxing, sometimes through semi-coercion. Even that damned Goddess of Light kept begging me to become the Saintess.
From what I had learned so far, the life of a Saintess was not a happy one. You had to prepare your entire life for a threat that might or might not come in your generation and fight for your entire life. Even if you blocked the threat, or even if no threat came, it didn’t end there. You had to inherit the position of Pope and rule over Eliaque. It was a life where you were forcibly dragged into this world, your entire existence mortgaged to others, no longer your own.
Did the people who wanted me to become the Saintess truly wish for me to live such a life? After saying they wanted to repay a favor, weren’t they ultimately repaying it with enmity? They should know more about the Saintess than I did, so why?
Expectation. It had to be expectation. ‘If it’s the person who saved us,’ ‘If it’s someone with that much power,’ ‘If it’s that person who thinks differently from us, then maybe…’ and so on. When these questions and possibilities piled up into a huge conclusion, even while feeling grateful to those who cared about me, this thought would creep in.
‘Why me?’
Why did I have to fulfill their expectations? Why did they demand even more from me? Why did I have to repeatedly feel my life threatened simply because I carried their expectations?
What was both surprising and funny was that human emotions could be both cold and warm. The fact that these people were precious to me would not change. Not in the past, not now, and not in the future. I wanted to protect them. That alone was reason enough to make me feel that way. One of the reasons I had run away from home was to prevent anyone from laying a hand on them, so I think no further explanation is needed.
One thing was clear here: even if I didn’t become the Saintess, there would be no problem protecting them. On the contrary, not being the Saintess would give me more freedom to act. I didn’t know exactly how strong the Chaos Sect was, but the Apostle of Chaos known as the Designer had not been in perfect condition. Yet he had been easily neutralized by my full-powered attack. Thanks to the advice from that other self I met back then—the one with severe chuunibyou—I now contained even more power than before. Even if I faced him in perfect condition, the odds of victory would still lean in my favor.
So if I trusted in my strength and launched a surprise attack on the Chaos Sect, I could weaken the forces that threatened me. The same went for Cardinal Gregcio’s assassination attempt. Couldn’t I just beat him senseless until evidence or whatever came out? Ironically, the connections I had made thanks to my position as a Saintess candidate were now endangering the people around me and restricting my actions precisely because I was a Saintess candidate.
Even if I truly became the Saintess, that wouldn’t change. It would only get worse, never better. If I tried to use my position to completely crush the Chaos Sect, there would definitely be sacrifices, and even if I succeeded, I had no confidence that similar bastards wouldn’t appear again. This was a world where an individual’s martial prowess could grow to unimaginable heights, after all. There would surely be those who would take the safety of those around me hostage to secure the vested interests they desired.
There was truly no reason for me to become the Saintess. However, there were more than enough reasons why I genuinely did not want to become one.
Looking back on everything I just said, it feels incredibly long-winded, disorganized, and like I went on a sudden tangent. Well, it really was a sudden tangent. Anyway. What I truly wanted to say is this:
While I’m still just a candidate, please understand that I’m going to run wild with the reins completely off. That’s why I’m like this—
“Cough… Thirteenth Saintess… candidate, what the hell are you doing…!”
I will struggle with everything I have until the very end to avoid becoming the Saintess. I understand the feelings of those who expect things from me. If repaying the kindness they have shown me means becoming the Saintess, then I will think about it as positively as I can.
Mother told me to become the Saintess. I’m sorry, Mom. I know I should listen to you, but unfortunately, I’m only thirteen years old in this world? Puberty is hitting me hard, so I think I need to rebel hard too.
Lumentis wants me to become the Saintess. Fuck that. Give me back my elephant, you bitch. My life is mine. I’m going to live it my way.
It is what I have longed for across both my previous life and my current one. Therefore, the very first thing I must do right now is repay the grudge I have endured and suppressed for eight long years.
“So you’re Gregcio? Nice to meet you, you son of a bitch.”
I grabbed the Eighth Cardinal by the throat and lifted him up as he vomited blood from the beating I had given him.
I will keep struggling until the end so that I do not become the Saintess.