Taming the Evil Saintess

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Ophelia fought not only the Desert Goblins but also a variety of monsters.

When she saw a Sand Worm, she swung her sword in terror, and with the Giant Scorpion, she expertly separated its tail from its body. There was once an Ogre that appeared, but when I cut the tendons in its ankle, she skillfully turned it into a chunk of meat.

Even Laila, who was always ready to rescue Ophelia, just leisurely watched the scene unfold after a while.

Rustle.

The Desert Goblins reappeared.

This time there were seven of them, but Ophelia skillfully repelled them.

Her wounds were no more than scratches, and she used Holy Magic in time to heal herself.

“…”

Suddenly, I found myself recalling the cockroach saintess build I often used in games.

“You fight well. You could be considered a Level 6 Adventurer.”

“Right.”

Laila spoke in amazement, and I nodded.

Unbeknownst to her, Ophelia had become skilled to a level typical of an Apprentice Knight due to the two years of practice she endured under my guidance.

Just two years.

In just two years, she’s come this far.

What a ridiculous pace. Encountering an aptitude value system in reality made me think about how absurd this world really is.

“Tsk.”

While some struggled to barely achieve this level, Ophelia had only wielded a wooden sword yet was at the level of an Apprentice Knight.

No matter how unpleasant her personality might be, I had no choice but to acknowledge that Ophelia was a key character in this game world.

“A genius, indeed.”

“Is that something you should say?”

Laila shot me a glare with narrowed eyes.

*

“Thank you. You saved my life.”

After two more days of travel, we reached our destination.

The leader of the merchant group expressed endless gratitude and handed two silver coins to Ophelia.

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes. Thank you so much. I hope to see you again, beautiful adventurer.”

Ophelia looked at the two silver coins in her hand with a mysterious expression.

From the merchant’s perspective, it made sense to give her money since she was the one who led the charge against the monsters.

The originally agreed-upon payment was one silver coin. The other was a bonus.

I placed my chin in my hand on her small shoulder.

“That’s your hard-earned money. You should keep it, Ophelia.”

“Uh, okay.”

Ophelia nodded with a dazed expression and slyly slipped the coins into her pocket. Her cheeks looked suspiciously flushed—perhaps she was feeling good.

I turned my gaze away from her and scanned the village.

We had arrived at a village on the outskirts of Labre Castle.

The village, built around a small water source, was minuscule to the point of being shabby. Unlike the relatively densely populated castle interior, the outside looked like scattered buildings in a barren wasteland.

After all, how impressive could a village be established in such a wasteland?

“The village is chaotic.”

Laila frowned as she shouldered her axe.

The entire village radiated tension, not just because of outsiders. It felt more like a vibe of fear rather than mere vigilance.

It was only natural to be anxious knowing that the lord of the territory had become part of the Demon King’s Army.

“What are we going to do now? Are we going to go after that bastard?”

“Charging in through the front gate would be suicidal. Let’s gather information here first.”

The information we could gather about Azar de Elbrecht was limited.

The lord of Labre Territory suddenly locked the castle gates and withdrew, allowing demons to enter the castle. When investigators from Auriga were dispatched, he imprisoned them and publicly declared his allegiance to the Demon King’s Army.

That was about all we could infer from this.

“Laila, what kind of person is Azar?”

“I’ve only heard he’s the lord of a small castle. I only learned he’s a Mark Holder after you mentioned it.”

In this world, the recognition of Golden Lion Azar was barely at that level.

The fact that he possessed a mark was not even known.

“I’ll check out the village first. You stay here, Ophelia.”

“Okay.”

“Try not to cause any trouble. Don’t pick fights, and don’t act in ways that would invite trouble.”

“Shut up, I know without you telling me.”

As Ophelia was about to explode with anger, I hurriedly took my leave.

I traversed the village toward the path leading to the castle. While it was a well-paved road, signs showed no one had passed through for days. It was thick with sand.

“Don’t go that way.”

Just then, I heard a youthful voice.

Turning around, I saw a young girl wearing a turban munching on jerky while looking at me.

“You can’t go?”

“Yep.”

“Who says so?”

“My dad.”

“Is your dad a resident here?”

“Yep. He says if you go straight there, a monster will come out. That’s why the villagers can’t go either.”

The girl stretched out and yawned before sitting on the wall and swinging her legs.

“Then that means you can’t meet the lord… I mean, the owner of that castle, huh?”

“My dad says he can meet him. Only villagers can. Isn’t that cool?”

The girl puffed her chest out proudly.

Her cute gestures made me smile for no reason. I asked, “That’s impressive. So what does your dad do?”

“He’s an herbalist.”

“Does he go to the castle to sell herbs?”

“Yep. My dad says the lord buys up herbs in bulk.”

An herbalist, huh.

It seemed that Azar was collecting almost all the herbs harvested in the territory.

I frowned. Herbs are usually used for making potions.

While one could see them as military supplies, it certainly felt odd that only herbalists were allowed inside the castle while all other supplies were turned away.

“So your dad is at the castle right now?”

“Yup.”

I handed the girl some candies and turned to leave.

Laila was unloading near the blacksmith while Ophelia was…

“…Huh.”

She was staring wide-eyed at a cheap erotica book on a stall.

I thought about saying something, but I held back.

She must be at an age where she’s curious.

It’s unlikely they would stock such inappropriate items at the cathedral, so this was probably the first time she’s seen something so blatant.

“…”

I leaned against the stone wall of the square and gazed at the tall castle walls.

The sudden emergence of Azar in the Demon King’s Army.

The firmly closed gates.

Herbs.

Muttering the keywords, I sank deep into thought.

“…Azar de Elbrecht.”

I recalled Azar’s appearance from the game.

Golden Lion Azar was labeled as “the warrior with a broken spirit” until engaging in conversation to uncover his true nature.

The first encounter was near a tomb close to Labre. No matter how the protagonist hero engaged him or offered to recruit him, he only responded with refusals.

Surely…

“A warrior who can’t protect even one of his own—what makes him think he can slay a Demon King?”

In contrast to main characters like Ophelia, who naturally joined in during the main quests, nearly all named characters in the game had their unique recruitment quests.

Azar’s recruitment quest involved retrieving an item from his castle.

A small hairpin.

After receiving that, Azar would place the hairpin on the tomb before joining the hero’s party.

Upon recruitment, his line was…

“Aria. I will try to forget you. Surely, that is what you desire.”

“Ah.”

The moment I thought that, everything clicked into place.

In the game, Azar had a deceased wife.

And that fact wasn’t just known to me.

The dozens of possessed outsiders dragged into this world must know it too.

*

“What’s the situation?”

After his inspection, Azar de Elbrecht ventured to the workshop set up in the castle’s basement.

Richard was there preparing herbs.

“All is well. Though, we’ll need a bit more mana.”

“Is that so?”

Azar slowly crossed the workshop and opened the inner door.

“…”

Inside was a bedroom.

Upon seeing a severely weakened woman in one corner, Azar’s expression hardened.

A black thread connected to the woman’s body.

The dark magic that Azar despised the most.

Yet, this was the only way forward.

“What a unique kind of love. What a devoted man you are.”

Richard, who was adjusting the love potion, remarked.

“…”

Was this truly the right thing to do?

That doubt had long since slipped away.

The sword had already been drawn from its sheath; something needed to be cut down.

Even if that something was himself.

“If I fail…”

Azar glared coldly at Richard.

“You must be ready to stake your life on it.”

“Of course.”

Richard merely gave his usual sly smile.

Suppressing an urge to end that life right there, Azar placed his hand on the woman, Aria’s forehead.

Cold. It was cold enough to be considered a corpse.

Yet, she still lived.

That alone was enough for Azar to resolve to turn his back on the world.

Slowly, he tidied her hair. As he caressed the old hairpin he had gifted her long ago, someone rushed in behind him.

“L-lord.”

It was the voice of his retainer.

Azar turned with an annoyed expression.

“What is it? Did I not tell you not to come to the basement?”

“I’m sorry. However, there’s….”

The stuttering voice of the retainer was grating on his nerves.

“Spit it out, don’t beat around the bush.”

“A guest has arrived.”

“A guest?”

“Yes. They claim to be a wandering priest.”

“…”

A priest.

At that word, Azar narrowed his eyes.

Thud.

Dark Mage Richard roughly set down a potion bottle.