episode_0052

The Saintess.

The divine power bestowed by the gods—Sacred Power.

The highest rank among those who wield it: the priests.

To be called “The Beloved of the Gods” speaks volumes of the reverence this position commands.

Sacred Power acts as a benevolent force for the people. It heals wounds, purges toxins, and repels curses.

Naturally, people began to flock to them. Even without medical knowledge, they could cure ailments and mend injuries.

Vulcan once described this Sacred Power as something… uncanny.

“It’s strange. A power that erases the ‘impurities’ in human perception.”

However.

Even such Sacred Power has a critical flaw.

The pain that comes with wielding it.

Higher-ranking priests experience it differently, but those in the lower ranks often drown it in drugs or alcohol.

Vulcan would smirk crookedly whenever such cases were brought up.

“That’s exactly why it’s uncanny. You don’t actually believe there’s a power greater than mana, do you?” “…Does such a thing exist?” “Then why do they suffer when using Sacred Power? The Labyrinth appeared over a thousand years ago, but Sacred Power existed long before. So why haven’t people found a way to mitigate its effects?” “What are you getting at?” “Aura, mana, and stamina—there exists a power beyond these. And Sacred Power draws from that. That’s why the priests writhe in agony.”

Vulcan declared Sacred Power the most bizarre force of all.

“A power greater than mana.”

The thought that it might be aura now seemed laughable. But if there truly was a power surpassing both mana and aura… I wanted it.

“Arthur. That power can only be wielded by those at least Level 5.”

Vulcan said as much after reading the hunger in my eyes.

In any case.

Sacred Power draws upon that higher force. Which is why the pain lessens as one’s level rises. High-level priests, in fact, use that suffering to temper their willpower. It’s said that the highest-ranking priests can restore an entire army in an instant.

That’s all I knew about Sacred Power.

But what of the Saintess?

She wields Sacred Power so overwhelming that even high-ranking priests bow their heads. And at such a low level, no less. It’s reckless, yes. Agonizing, yes.

But that’s just the kind of being she is.

So then—where is she?

‘For information, that’s the place.’

It’s a little ridiculous to return so soon, but I found myself wanting to know more about the Saintess.

“…Information on the Saintess? I’ll give you this one for free.” “Huh?” “Most residents already know where she is. It’s hardly classified.” “……” “Dedication to work is admirable, but don’t lose yourself in it. Observing your surroundings is just as important. If you think I’m nagging—well, I am.” “…Thank you.” “Oh my, no need for that.”

After the scolding from Hao Munju, I headed to the location she directed me to.

The Temple.

In this world, there exists a Goddess of Light, said to bestow Sacred Power upon the mortals below.

Other gods exist, but the Goddess of Light is the only one who actively grants power, making her influence immense. In the western lands, there’s even a Holy Kingdom where she is not just the state religion—her direct subordinates govern it.

The Saintess.

I was curious about the owner of that title.

And then.

Arriving at the place Hao Munju had indicated, I saw her.

“I-It’s the Saintess!” “How can someone so divine exist?”

Silver hair shimmering like moonlight. Golden eyes, sacred and radiant like Rosante’s. A striking ensemble—white and black harmonized in a way that some might call bold, others sacrilegious.

A holy aura enveloped her. Those around her bowed deeply or knelt in reverence.

‘This feels like a royal procession.’

No, that wasn’t entirely wrong. In a world where Sacred Power exists, where gods are real, and where kingdoms serve them—a Saintess, a divine emissary, would hold such a position.

“Beloved brothers and sisters. The true path of life before us is one of love and service. Even the Goddess of Light above…”

The Saintess began a lengthy sermon.

I watched her. Something felt… off.

‘What is it?’

The impression of acting was overwhelming.

A benevolent expression. A voice that warmed the heart. The Sacred Power cloaking her.

She was undeniably a woman who exuded a sanctity worthy of worship.

By the time the sermon ended, the crowd was chanting the Goddess’s name. The scene bordered on cult-like, unsettling to witness with a clear mind.

‘…I need to stay sharp.’

Our party has no sane members. Except me.

So it falls on me to be the brake.

Just as I steeled myself—

A gaze.

The Saintess’s golden eyes locked onto mine.

She smiled at me—kind, yet twisted.

[Encounter Quest] You have encountered Veronica. Either capture her interest or lose it entirely. Reward: ??? Failure: No penalty.

I stared at the quest.

Unlike any I’d seen before.

‘No class.’

No—not absent. Hidden.

Why?

I studied the Saintess with suspicion.

Who the hell are you?

This was the first time the system had ever concealed a class.

And then—

—

“Hah… Hahahahaha!”

A scene of utter devastation unfolded.

Houses collapsed. Flames raged everywhere.

Thick smoke. Roaring fire. The area was already reduced to ashes.

“P-Please… save me…” “The Saintess—no, the Witch—!”

Faint screams echoed, cut short.

A mountain of corpses. Black flames devouring them.

‘……’

What… is this?

The abrupt shift in scenery.

But my body wouldn’t move. After struggling, I realized—

‘This…’

This isn’t my body.

What the hell is happening? Was I possessed?

Just as the ominous thought surfaced—

“…Marcel.”

“I” trudged forward. A corpse lay there.

“……”

My head turned ice-cold.

I’d heard it before—when rage consumes you, it chills you to the bone.

I looked at the corpse.

Unrecognizable, reduced to cinders.

But beside it—a pair of glasses.

The gold-rimmed frames Marcel always wore.

“……”

I walked forward.

Toward someone—I didn’t know who.

Corpses. Corpses. Corpses.

Glasses on a corpse.

Rosante’s corpse.

Charred armor that must have been Terissa’s. The body of Viola. Dwarven Durin’s remains.

Faces I recognized.

And then—

A sword, plunged into the ground.

One I knew well.

The Champion’s Blade—the first Hobgoblin Champion’s weapon Erme had claimed.

And blocking its path—

Vulcan’s burned corpse.

I looked up.

There, hovering—

Wings of black flame.

A figure, charred black, with six grotesque arms.

A woman laughing crudely.

Crimson eyes streaming bloody tears as she cackled.

“Hahah! Hahahaha!”

A voice that could be mistaken for a scream.

I thought she might be weeping in despair—

But all I felt was hatred.

A primal urge to tear her apart, to chew her flesh to pulp.

I stared at her.

And slowly opened my mouth.

“……”

But no sound came.

—

“Hey.”

My head was heavy, foggy.

Like waking from a long, deep sleep.

What was that vision just now?

What had I seen?

—Oh, right. You should stay away from the Church. Just a heads-up. —Spoilers, no thanks. —No, this is a major branching point. To reach the true ending, you either avoid them or crush them. —…But you never even saw the true ending. You didn’t finish the game. —That’s—that’s different! This is important!

The conversation with the bastard who shoved me into this world resurfaced.

‘…Then that was—’

I had a guess.

And I thought I understood why the quest was structured that way.

But there was no time to dwell.

“Hey.”

Someone was shaking my shoulder lightly.

Who?

I shook my head and looked at the woman before me.

Silver hair shimmering like moonlight.

Golden eyes, sacred and radiant.

A beauty unmatched in this world.

Only Erme, Rosante, Rishiel, or the Guild Master could compare.

Women whose beauty seemed otherworldly.

But why was she here?

“Fufu, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this. Are you from the Empire’s nobility? Or perhaps the Kingdom’s?” “……?”

What was she talking about?

“Ah, judging by your looks, maybe you’re from the eastern nations? Then you might not know… Oh, did my appearance startle you? Well, I am the most revered woman here. Go on, say what you prepared. Who knows? I might actually fall for you.”

Was she always this talkative?

I glanced around.

No one else was here.

Just a shepherd-style bed and a table.

Why was I here?

“What, you really fainted? Ugh, unbelievable.” “…Did you help me?” “Yes. The noble, sacred, and revered Saintess saved you.” “……”

Puffing her cheeks, she plopped onto the bed and swung her legs.

Her personality was really… something.

“But your looks are passable. Cliché, but you must be confident. Those amethyst eyes are intriguing…”

She stared straight into my eyes.

“Thank you for your help.” “That’s it?” “But my party is waiting, so I should go.” “Hmm, fine. But in return, you owe me.” “What?” “Your tone’s a bit rude for someone talking to their savior, don’t you think?”

A little—

No, let’s be honest.

This woman was incredibly rude. The kind of person you never want to deal with.

‘And there’s something else bothering me.’

That strange vision earlier.

And the truth about the Church that bastard hinted at.

So—

“W-Wait!”

Whoosh.

Ignoring her, I leaped out the window.

A light landing.

I walked briskly toward the inn.