“He’s a former slave who torched the capital around a decade ago. Called himself ‘Slaven.’ We caught him hunting demons, and...well, a lot of stuff happened. Veiss got a good hit on him during the attack on the capital, and he never showed up again, so I assumed he’d kicked the bucket ages ago... But the bastard’s still alive, huh...”
The innkeeper’s voice was grim. I wasn’t sure whether his mind had gone to the missing champion who’d fought off the devil, or whether that “lot of stuff” was weighing on him even now. Either way, he suddenly realized he’d brought the mood down; he put on an obviously forced smile and turned to look at me.
“Your cardinal was there too, actually. He was just a newbie priest back then, though.”
“Salamanrius was?”
In my surprise, I’d forgotten to refer to him by his proper title, but I still deserved congratulations for not calling him “Glasses.”
“Well... Basically, just about everyone’s got baggage with him. We already had our hands full with the damn demons. That guy’s the last thing we need right now... At this rate, you’re definitely not gonna be able to handle things on your own, missy.”
He must have meant they’d need more healers than just me. Even as we spoke, I was manifesting the mystical divine power I wielded. Slowly—ever so slowly—my miracles were healing intractable injuries to the point where they could be treated by human hands. But that was the limit of what I could do. Regrowing lost limbs from nothing, or even closing up stomachs to keep people’s guts from spilling out, were beyond me right now. The difference in local aether levels was part of it, but there were also just too many injured people. Even if part of my attention was elsewhere, I was still looking over each person’s condition while I worked, and I needed to keep my brain firing on all cylinders. I wasn’t sure exactly how many mercenaries had made it out, but the wounded alone numbered almost fifty. From a strategic standpoint, we’d want at least ten priests here for support...
“The Spirit Mountain Temple refused your request, right?”
I double-checked, and the innkeeper silently nodded. I’d never been out there before, but I’d heard it was a special place in its own way, different from the Holy City. If an archbishop with a screw loose who said he could hear the voices of the Gods was in charge...
“If we brought Karm along, maybe we could make him deal with it...”
Unfortunately, Karm was busy with his own mission elsewhere, and I never wanted to ask him for help ever again anyway. Gods willing, the next time I contacted him would be to notify him that he’d been declared a heretic and sentenced to death. Until then, even if he reached out to me, I intended to steadfastly ignore him.
“In any case, if he showed up, we’d end up with an even bigger mess...”
He was a crazed zealot who went around dispensing judgment based on his own personal creed. Even if we somehow managed to negotiate a truce, a single incomprehensible decision from him could easily trash the entire thing. Our best option was to keep him as far away as possible.
“So, much as I hate to admit it, I suppose we’ll just have to rely on Her Salacity...”
“Her Sagacity? The Holy Saint’s coming out here?” the innkeeper asked.
“She’s quite a kind and caring soul.”
If Her Sagacity graced us with her presence on the battlefield in that provocative getup, it’d be sure to boost the mercenaries’ morale. I had no clue whether the Horny Slut was actually interested in men at all, but I had to imagine she’d at least do a better job than me.
“I’m merely running errands for Her Sagacity while we await her arrival.”
The Golden Lion was a skilled negotiator, and we hadn’t been able to make any headway with him. At this point, I figured our best bet was just to toss Her Sagacity into enemy territory and let her handle it. I was only a bride; she was the Holy Saint. Putting her body on the line for the sake of world peace was simply part of a saint’s duties. If we were lucky, maybe she’d take out all the enemy soldiers and leave them too weak to stand...
“Um, why do you look kinda excited, Alicia...?”
“Huh?”
I’d started smiling at some point. How odd. I must not have been able to keep it off my face.
“I mean... Sure, Her Sagacity can be kind of, y’know...” Cion was visibly ill at ease—she seemed to have an opinion or two of her own about the saint.
Hmm. The atmosphere was getting weirdly tense. For Her Sagacity’s sake, it’d be best if I cleared up this misunderstanding.
“Cion? Just so we’re clear, I don’t bear Her Sagacity any ill will, all right? I was simply thinking about what a hard time she’ll have taking on this many people all at once...”
“You mean, to heal them, right?”
“What else could I possibly mean?” I deadpanned.
“I— Uh—” Cion blushed and turned away.
Okay, that’s kind of cute.
“Everyone, please, rest assured. Even if your injuries are beyond my saving, Her Sagacity will never forsake you. So just relax and succumb to your wounds, all right?”
“Th-That’s right! Yeah! Just hang in there a little longer, guys!” Cion chimed in, putting all her energy into encouraging her comrades.
Aw. She’s such a good girl.
“I mean, sure, she’d constantly crawl naked into my sickbed and try to brainwash me every single night, so I’d love to see her get what’s coming to her at least once, but all the same—”
“A-Alicia...?”
Cion looked a little agitated, but for some reason, the words just wouldn’t stop.
“And anyway, she calls herself a saint, but she just spends all day playing with kids and tosses all the actual work onto the nuns. Plus, she goes to the baths three times a day—and she takes a different nun in there with her every time too. I know they say cleanliness is next to Godliness, but seriously. I mean, if I could have a bath every day, sure, I’d— Mmph!”
“Aaa—! Alicia?!”
Cion clamped a hand over my mouth, and I squirmed and struggled for air.
“You’re— You’re freaking everyone out! I know you’re only joking, but still!”
“Who’s joking? I—”
Past the confused whispering of the mercenaries, the hoofbeats of an approaching horse rang out, interrupting my train of thought before I could continue.
“Alicia?! Is Sister Alicia there?!” A young man’s voice rang out as he spurred his horse on, racing into the firelight of the encampment. He sounded too panicked to be a simple messenger.
“I’m over here!” I called out amid the sudden atmosphere of concern.
“Thank goodness! I didn’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t find you...”
“Wait, aren’t you...”
His hood was pulled over his head to conceal his features, but I recognized those beast-like eyes. It was Schnoë, one of the devil-touched mercenaries in charge of guarding the saint.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be—”
Before I finished speaking, Schnoë jumped off his horse, dashed over to me, and grabbed me by the shoulders. With ragged breaths, he delivered his message.
“Her Sagacity’s carriage was attacked. She’s gone missing. We don’t know if she’s dead or alive.”
I stared back at him.
“Huh?”
My dazed reply faded away to nothing amid the nighttime encampment.