The True Saintess (1)

With a thud, Machart’s head fell to the ground, followed immediately by the perpetrator’s excuse that wasn’t really an excuse.

“I apologize for swinging my sword without permission, Princess Seraphine. Since it’s been confirmed that Prince Machart was colluding with demons, I acted quickly as I feared what he might do.”

“…No, it was unavoidable. Even if you hadn’t done it, Prince Ethan, it would have had to be done soon anyway. Rather, I’m sorry for putting you through the trouble.”

Though it was closer to silencing Machart to prevent him from revealing that I was the Saintess, Seraphine didn’t seem to have any lingering sympathy for him and didn’t make an issue of Ethan’s sudden action.

“It’s still shocking to think that my brother borrowed the power of demons to alter his appearance and even manipulate how others remembered him.”

“……”

“I knew since childhood that my brother lacked confidence in his appearance. Perhaps his fantasies about what he couldn’t have led him to this.”

“Princess Seraphine…”

“But that doesn’t excuse using his changed appearance to harass women, live a debauched life, and even threaten Miss Lillith.”

With those words, she gestured to the knights of her palace guard, who hurriedly began removing Machart’s corpse.

As the knights carried away the headless body, Seraphine gazed quietly at the night sky and murmured.

“Five years ago, when my brother Phillipson passed away, Machart must have been involved too. Back then, I thought he had gone into hiding like Phillipson to avoid assassination, but I never imagined he was preparing such a large-scale memory-altering spell.

Even though we only shared half our blood, it’s still hard to accept this calmly.”

“That’s only natural, Princess Seraphine.”

“And though my brother’s death has lifted a weight from my heart, it’s also answered many questions I had about him. Whenever I recalled memories of Machart, there was always a sense of dissonance-now I understand everything perfectly.

Like how, despite being royalty, new maids and butlers would often fail to recognize him and act rudely, or how his fiancée changed three times due to the women’s circumstances. These accumulated frustrations must have driven him to seek the demons’ power.”

“……”

“As a sister, I’m truly useless. I should have understood even a little of the suffering he endured…”

…Even if Seraphine could see the future, her ability was intermittent at best-she couldn’t choose when or what to see. Yet she wore a bitter smile as if this situation were her fault, simply because that was her nature.

Well, whatever Seraphine felt about Machart, I was genuinely relieved that the only threat to my life was finally gone.

This was the moment when the head of Machart-who had tormented me the longest since I transmigrated into this world (technically, Ethan had been around longer, but he never threatened my life)-finally rolled. Honestly, I felt like dancing with joy.

Of course, doing so in this atmosphere would make people question my humanity, so I kept my composure.

‘That took way too damn long.’

Just how much suffering did I endure to take down this bastard?

There were a couple of life-threatening moments, not to mention countless smaller crises during this subjugation.

Fighting a fourth-act boss before even finishing the second act was absurd to begin with. It was only possible because two people-the Hero and I-knew the story.

The battle was also complicated by too many variables: the target being royalty, not yet awakened as a demon, and the Saintess not yet revealed. Even at the last moment, he nearly blurted out that I was the Saintess before collapsing.

The only silver lining was that even if he had spoken, it wouldn’t have changed much.

As long as the palace guards’ mouths were sealed, everyone else present already knew I was the Saintess. So even if Machart’s last words had been completed, it wouldn’t have mattered.

“……”

Given the suspicious looks Seraphine had been giving me, she must have already figured it out. The situation practically forced her to.

Ugh, explaining this is going to be a pain. How many times do I have to confess that I’m the Saintess?

‘Where the hell are the Hero and Agnes, anyway?’

With them gone, I’m stuck dealing with Seraphine’s attention alone.

They must have something important going on if they’re off doing their own thing, but they’d better have a damn good reason for ignoring my summons.

‘If it turns out they were off doing something trivial, I swear…’

My life was on the line here. I think I’m allowed to complain a little.

⁎ ⁎ ⁎

Ivelin Bridget Steiner.

That name was now useless to her.

The moment the biggest reason she had used it to blend in among humans disappeared before her eyes.

‘Damn it, damn it, damn it!’

When Ivelin had informed the noble ladies of Machart’s disappearance and subtly herded them to the backyard, she hadn’t anticipated things turning out this way.

Just in case, she had prepared witnesses in the unlikely event he lost to that woman, Lillith. Given his skills, handling a half-baked swordsman with sealed magic should have been easy, but the sudden appearance of a Sword Expert-level fighter was something Ivelin hadn’t foreseen.

So she gathered people, intending to protect Machart at all costs. Framing someone else after his death would have been more reliable, but Machart still had his uses.

With his royal status and looks that could charm most women (unlike his former grotesque self), Ivelin deemed him too valuable to discard.

That decision, however, became the miscalculation that doomed her.

Even when the Saintess created the “Mirror of Truth,” Ivelin thought things were going well. That Celista was a fake Saintess was already common knowledge among demons, and she herself had informed Machart of this.

The Mirror of Truth, forged by such a woman, couldn’t possibly erase the dark magic inscribed on Machart. If anything, it might reignite suspicions about Celista being a fake, finally driving a wedge between the Hero and that annoying woman.

But contrary to Ivelin’s expectations, the Mirror activated with the correct incantation, and only then did she realize something was terribly wrong.

‘No way… the “True Saintess” was hiding here too?!’

Others might not have noticed, but in the chaos, Ivelin saw it clearly.

The Mirror was already complete before Celista finished her chant-the final trigger was whispered from behind by that woman.

The same woman drenched in eerie energy whom Machart had taken a liking to and whom Ivelin had planned to use as a temporary energy source.

That the very woman they had targeted was the still-hidden True Saintess was the worst possible outcome for Ivelin.

‘I must alert the higher-ups. If the Demon King revives with her still alive…’

The moment she confirmed Machart’s dark magic dissolving, Ivelin fled without looking back. This information was too critical-she had to relay it to her fellow demons immediately.

If the Demon King revived while the Saintess remained, the “Prophecy” would also come true.

To prevent that, the demon army had sold the child destined to be the Saintess to obscurity and pressured the church into creating a fake Saintess.

They had wanted to kill the child outright, but this was the best they could manage.

They assumed she had either lost her qualifications in some brothel or died in harsh labor-who knew that stubborn bug was still clinging to life?

Oddly, she seemed unusually tainted for a Saintess, but that wasn’t Ivelin’s concern now.

Her priority was informing the demon army that the Saintess still lived and ensuring her elimination-

-Thud!

“Guh, gah?!”

As Ivelin tried to escape the palace grounds to regroup with the demons, a cold blade pierced her back, stabbing through her heart with searing pain.

The divine energy radiating from the blade-she didn’t need to turn around to know who had struck her.

“H-how…?”

“Found her, Agnes! Over here!”

“…I told you not to call me by name like we’re friends.”

Kyetmajosyegigot Bolt.

Agnes Elizabeth Blaze.

Even as her consciousness faded, Ivelin recognized the voices of the Hero and his mage-two figures the demon army had always kept a close eye on.

“Wow, you really live up to being the next Tower Master. Your magic detection is insane-you even found a demon using stealth magic.”

“…Child’s play. Don’t overpraise me for something this basic.”

“Anyway, good thing we didn’t miss her. If she’d gotten away, she’d have spread word among the demons that Lillith and Ethan are threats. Thanks to you, Agnes, we stopped her in time.”

“…Make sure you tell Lillith that. If she gets mad about us not showing up as promised, it’s all your fault.”

“Aw, come on.”

“…How did you know she was a demon, though? I only just confirmed it myself.”

“…Uh, well, you know… sometimes as the Hero, I get these visions, and this time-“

‘I have to… warn them…’

…As the two casually discussed their victory over her, the nameless demon crumbled silently on the palace’s rear mountain, filled with absurd indignation.

⁎ ⁎ ⁎

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong, Lillith?”

“Why the sudden reaction, Miss Lillith?”

“…Oh, it’s nothing.”

…For some reason, it feels like the “purity” around here just increased slightly.

Is this some side effect of becoming the Saintess as Lillith? Or maybe it’s just my imagination.