Taming the Evil Saintess

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“Ugh!”

The guy started to hurl all the food he had inside him from the shock of being hit where it hurts. He flailed around so violently that I had to step in and hold him up to prevent him from falling off the tree.

After a while of screaming in pain, the elf gasped for breath and curled up like a little bug.

“Does it hurt?”

“C-ugh, huuh.”

“Of course it does.”

I hit him for that exact reason.

Don’t worry, I didn’t hit him hard enough to burst him open.

I looked around. With the chief already subdued, the other rangers didn’t dare to attack me.

I might’ve gone a bit overboard, but this was partly out of a desire for revenge.

“Damn ear demon.”

In Sword & Chronicle, that’s what an elf was—acting all high and mighty but being the most petty and annoying of all races.

How many battles had I fought with those pesky elves who kept stirring up trouble on the Great Forest map? They were so annoyingly stubborn I’d rather deal with the Demon King’s officers than see their faces again.

Even after being possessed, it was the same. The elf slaves joining the mercenary group were all full of pride, causing trouble without actually being any help.

So, I gave him a good whack.

Eight years of pent-up grievances.

“What’s your name?”

“Huu, huhhh.”

I kicked the chief in the side, who was still struggling in pain.

Pain can be removed with pain.

Like poison for poison.

“Wuzmund….”

“Wuzmund? Which tribe?”

“Vinheim….”

The Vinheim Tribe.

The tribe led by the Archery Master Erwin, a Mark Holder among the elf race.

I had heard they were quite a powerful tribe within the Great Forest.

“So, Wuzmund of Vinheim. I’m the one who got attacked. I felt the fear of death. Do I have any reason to forgive you?”

“It was a misunderstanding, I swear! We were trying to protect you…!”

“Protect? What kind of nonsense is that? You just shot an arrow at me, dipped in extreme poison at that.”

“….”

Well, I’d licked a bit and confirmed it was a paralysis poison not life-threatening. But still, it was aggravating.

Wuzmund, checking my expression, tried to explain.

“I had no intent to kill… I was just trying to stop you from entering the Dark Elf territory…”

“Right. You ear demons always pull a bow dipped in poison before trying to talk, huh?”

At the sound of “ear demons,” all the rangers’ eyes bulged with rage.

But no one stepped forward.

Who in their right mind would want to get hit in the balls?

After all, the only principle that holds in this damn world is the law of strength.

I crouched down to match Wuzmund’s eye level and continued speaking.

“Anyway, you’re right. I’m heading toward the Dark Elf territory.”

“The Dark, Elf… that place is not meant for humans… why are you trying to go there?”

Now his voice sounded almost pitiful.

Feeling a bit sorry for him, I answered.

“Dark magic.”

“Dark, magic?”

“I heard there’s a dark mage lurking within the Dark Elf’s domain.”

“No way.”

Wuzmund denied it.

Sure, Dark Elves are as wicked and cruel as their name suggests, but they don’t use dark magic. If anything, they’re even more ridiculous than High Elves as they emphasize maintaining the forest’s balance and fundamentalism.

“Monsters weren’t popping up frequently these days, were they?”

“….”

Wuzmund frowned.

So, it seems the elves were aware of the situation. The credibility of Eldarian’s words was just boosted.

I shrugged and said.

“Whether you believe it or not, I got this information from a trustworthy source, and I’m planning to catch that bastard. Whether it’s the Dark Elf’s territory or not, it doesn’t matter to me.”

If things went as they should, I wouldn’t have been crazily heading into the Dark Elf territory.

But he killed the hero.

He severed my only lifeline.

“Got it? Then tell your chief. I need to head north no matter what, so don’t get in my way.”

As I said that, I snapped my fingers, as a great idea struck me.

“In that sense, you should guide me.”

“Guide you? You want me to lead you to the Dark Elf’s territory?”

“Isn’t there anything else? They say humans get stabbed if they go there. So if I go with you, wouldn’t that be okay?”

“But! There’s a delicate diplomatic tension between High Elves and Dark Elves. As the Ranger Commander of Vinheim, if I were to head towards Nua Diel, it would surely be seen as a political movement.”

“Then you thought attacking the Cathedral Knight was not a political move?”

My words stopped Wuzmund in his tracks.

I kicked him in the side again.

“Seems like you don’t know your position. Let me tell you, you’re not in a situation to choose. If we’re going to negotiate, it’ll be between the lesser of two evils. Who do you want to make enemies with, the Saints or Dark Elves? If you had to choose, wouldn’t it be better to go with the Dark Elves? If the Pope expresses regret towards the elves, what kind of actions do you think your precious Fairy King will take?”

Fairy King Arlon.

The true ruler of the Great Forest.

Wuzmund certainly wouldn’t want to get mixed up in anything unpleasant with him.

“The person I serve is quite significant. It wouldn’t take a month for news to reach the Holy See. In terms of an elf’s lifespan, that’s almost no time at all.”

“Are you threatening me now? A wise leader of the forest, the High Elf? Even in the Great Forest?”

“You got it. I’m threatening you.”

Despite his own words of being wise, he’s in no position to be believed all beat up and hunched over.

As I lifted my knee, Wuzmund, perhaps suffering from PTSD, averted his gaze.

“Is that the Will of God you believe in?”

Instead, Wuzmund came out with something unexpected.

“Eradicate the heretics. Is that your mission? I heard you’re a Cathedral Knight. Eradicating heretics is the job of an Inquisition Officer, not yours.”

“Hmm….”

He’s not wrong; one could easily misunderstand that.

But I didn’t bother correcting him. The title of Knight of the Saint had its benefits—it could cover for everything as the Will of God.

“Right. It’s all the Will of God.”

“Huuh.”

Wuzmund sighed and chuckled helplessly.

Eventually, after some hesitation, he nodded his head.

“Can’t be helped. I will guide you to the Dark Elf city.”

“Quick to comply, aren’t you?”

“I have no choice. I wouldn’t want to know what your companions in the capital might do if I refused.”

“What?”

I frowned.

Companions? In the capital?

What was he talking about? Ever since I entered the Great Forest, I’ve been trying to avoid annoying problems and headed straight north without even stopping by the city.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t the Inquisition Officer in the capital your companion?”

Wuzmund tilted his head.

The Inquisition Officer.

I stiffened my expression and asked.

“Just to confirm, what’s that Inquisition Officer’s name?”

“Yurede, I believe.”

“….”

Yurede.

Why the hell is that zealot in the Great Forest?

“Hey. Enough with this craziness, stop it.”

“Attending three prayers daily is important. Would you like to join us, Saint Lady?”

“Dude, it’s the fifteenth time already! You’re supposed to do it three times!”

“Greed is one of the seven deadly sins, but desire for faith is righteous. The more the merrier. If I do the prayers five times, my devotion will deepen fivefold.”

Ophelia felt like she was going to explode.

Why was it that all the so-called important people in the Cathedral had something wrong with them?

Elliot was annoying but not irritating. He wasn’t devout by any means, but he had a certain rational thought process. Unlike that damn Inquisition Officer.

Ever since we arrived in the capital of the Great Forest, Elvendell, that bastard Yurede had been praying every single day without fail.

His fanatical demeanor had led to multiple confrontations with nearby High Elf nobility. It was thanks to one of the tribal leaders who couldn’t take it anymore that we were able to find a relatively quiet environment to catch a break.

“Fine. Let’s not say anything more…”

Leaving Yurede behind, Ophelia propped her chin and took in the scenery beyond the terrace.

The towering old trees and the massive vines wrapping around them. The elven-style wooden structures hanging on those vines.

The Cathedral was a beautifully built city, but the capital of the Great Forest had its own unique charm.

“How long has it been….”

Ophelia had only ever stayed in the Cathedral.

She had only been outside once when she was invited to a diocese in the Empire just after becoming a Saint.

And even that was spent under excessive protection from the knights and the Pope’s watchful eyes. At that time, the concept of sightseeing didn’t exist for her. A life where she had to smile every time a button was pushed.

But now, things were different. Ophelia had come out of the Cathedral on her own volition.

So she could leisurely enjoy the splendid scenery of the Great Forest…

“…but I can’t do that.”

Suddenly it dawned on her.

The atmosphere was far too peaceful for her not to notice that Elliot was still heading north.

The dark mage he was pursuing was currently located in the north of the Great Forest, within the Dark Elf territory.

Archmage Eldarian had hinted at that.

In exchange for the information, she had to spend three full days and nights with his disciple, Emily Barried.

That in itself was quite a torture.

Just thinking about it made her stomach turn, and Ophelia spat over the terrace railing. Then she stood up and slapped the back of Yurede’s head, who was in the middle of his prayer.

“Hey, let’s go. We don’t have time.”

“Are we leaving already? It’s only been two days since we arrived in the capital. We haven’t even hired a guide yet….”

“A guide can be hired with a bit of extra cash. We don’t know what will happen to Elliot that bastard.”

“Saint Lady, Sir Elliot is a great knight. As long as he carries the Will of God, he will never fall to heretics.”

Yurede said so, and Ophelia couldn’t help but partially agree with him.

Even though she hadn’t seen it firsthand, Elliot’s prowess was different from any knight she had ever seen.

But still.

“Something feels off.”

Ophelia placed her hand on her shoulder where the mark of the Heavenly Decree was engraved and said so.

She didn’t care what happened to Elliot. She still felt that way. Yet, a part of her felt restless, and the mark seemed to throb.

A sensation she had never felt before.

If Elliot dies, she would definitely be scolded by the Pope. That must be the anxiety she was feeling.

Ophelia resolved to interpret this feeling as anxiety.

“…Ugh.”

Seeing this, Yurede smiled contentedly and made the sign of the Holy Cross.

“You care for Sir Elliot, don’t you?”

“Wh-what?! That’s not it! Don’t jump to conclusions!”

“No, I know. I know everything. Your compassionate heart is with Sir Elliot.”

Even though Yurede was referring to devotion and devotion as a Saint, it could only be heard differently by Ophelia.

Most of all, it reminded her of the conversations she had with Emily while being captive in Shadowhold for the past few days.

“Saint Lady! Do you have someone you’re worried about?”

“Worried? About what?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean. Hee hee.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That kind of thing.”

“Um… Well, I guess there is someone I care about.”

“Gasp!”

“That jerk! Where the hell is he wandering off to? Making me suffer for no reason.”

“Huuuh!”

“Why are you freaking out again?”

“Saint Lady, you’re experiencing forbidden love!”

“What?! How is this love?!”

“Of course, I can tell. I can see it.”

“No, you don’t know anything about it!”

“Ahh, it’s such a romantic love story. I want to grow up quickly and escape this gloomy place to have a passionate and forbidden love like the Saint Lady’s!”

“What the hell….”

“…profound.”

Ophelia clutched her burning cheeks and glared daggers at Yurede.

“Yurede.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to be burned at the stake?”

“Dying buried in the flames of your holiness is also a good form of martyrdom. I hope you leave a mural of me.”

“….”

Ophelia pressed her nose against the terrace railing with a terrified expression.

In truth, she wanted to kill both of these idiots.