Taming The Evil Saintess – Chapter 25

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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At first, I thought I was hallucinating. But even after blinking a few times, it was unmistakably Ophelia, the Saintess, standing before me.

Confused, I cautiously called her name.

“…Ophelia?”
“Sniffle”
“Why are you here…?”

I was bewildered. What was Ophelia, the Saintess of the Holy City, doing here? Before I could voice my question, Ophelia punched me in the throat.

After years of swordsmanship training, her punches had become quite powerful. I gasped for air.

“Die, you bastard! Die!”

She continued to curse, pummeling me with her fists, then suddenly lowered her head. Tears dripped onto her lap. I was puzzled.

“Ophelia, why are you crying?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“I’m the one who’s hurt. Why are you crying?”

I tried to tease her, but she didn’t respond.

“Is it because of…”
“No, it’s not, you idiot!”

Thwack. Another punch to the throat. Ophelia looked up, her face as red as a beet. She raised her fist, as if threatening to break my neck if I said another word.

I closed my mouth, and Ophelia spoke in a nasally voice,

“I-it’s just… dust in my eyes.”
“Dust? In the Great Forest? Saying it’s pollen would be more believable.”
“…Do you really want to die?”
“I already did, once. I have no regrets.”

I said it jokingly, but Ophelia’s eyes wavered.

“If you… if you say something like that again, I’ll kill you.”
“Then you’ve already killed me a hundred times over.”
“Then I’ll learn necromancy and bring you back as a zombie. You have to fulfill your geas. You’re indebted to me.”

It wasn’t something a Saintess should say, but I wouldn’t put it past Ophelia. I chuckled and shrugged.

“I see. I’ve fallen into the hands of a terrifying woman.”
“That’s right. You’re screwed.”

Ophelia grinned. I gently placed my hand on her head. Unlike before, she didn’t push it away. She just sniffled.

“How long have I been out?”
“Ten days. I honestly thought you wouldn’t wake up. Even Ured couldn’t say for sure. That crazy bastard went to pray for your recovery again today.”
“Ugh.”

Ten days. Longer than I had thought. It made sense, considering I had been caught in an explosion. I was lucky I had minimized the damage by using mana; I almost met my maker.

I wouldn’t have survived without Ophelia’s divine magic. I must have been in a terrible state when she found me.

It was understandable that she would cry.

“By the way, what happened to the other elf who was with me? He shouldn’t have been caught in the explosion.”
“That weird guy? He brought you a healing potion. I gave him some money and sent him back. He carried you all the way out of the cave, so he deserved some compensation.”

I was touched by Uthmund’s loyalty.

“What about the dark elves?”
“They backed off as soon as they found out who I was. This is a room they provided.”

Of course, even those who hated humans wouldn’t dare offend the Saintess. So, we were in Nua Dhil. A long way from the Holy City.

“How did you get here?”
“I followed you, obviously. Ured led the way.”
“How did you convince Ured?”
“Heresy.”
“What did you tell the Holy City?”
“Nothing.”
“Does the Pope know?”
“If he did, I wouldn’t be here.”
“I suppose so.”

So, she had left without permission. A deserter, just like me.

There would be a lot of explaining to do when we returned to the Holy City. Well, I figured it would be fine if Ured put in a good word for us.

Probably.

“So,” Ophelia began, “how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Thanks to your divine magic.”
“A-ahem.”

Ophelia coughed, suppressing a smile. I raised my bandaged hand. My joints ached from being immobile for so long, but it was bearable. I had suffered worse injuries during my mercenary days.

“Did you… finish your revenge?”

Ophelia asked cautiously. Revenge. Owen had said the same thing. They must have misunderstood. But I didn’t bother correcting them.

I had come here to punish the one who killed the hero.

“…It’s done.”

The problem was that the dark mage’s last words had been a bombshell.

Transmigrators, summoned by the Demon King. Marked with stigmas, acting as his puppets.

Then what about me? I was a transmigrator. My memories of Earth proved it. Then why wasn’t I part of the Demon King’s army? Why didn’t I have a stigma?

“….”

I wasn’t in the right state of mind to think about it. My head was spinning. I’d think about it later. Right now, I had to deal with the current situation.

“Now, explain yourself.”

Ophelia said abruptly. She was glaring at me, her arms crossed, a pout on her face.

“Explain what?”
“You’re my escort knight. You swore a geas to give your life for me. Right?”
“That’s right.”
“And you left me, the person you’re supposed to protect, to pursue your own personal revenge? Are you insane?”

Her shoulders trembled. She was clearly angry. But I was wrong. Ophelia slammed her fist on the bed and yelled,

“If you had told me, I would have helped you! Even if I was mean to you, I’m not heartless enough to refuse you your revenge!”
“….”
“I would have sent Ured with you! And if that wasn’t enough, I would have sent other paladins! And… and… Di-Dick… Dick…”
“Dictus.”
“Yeah! I would have sent that Dick or whatever his name is! But you left without a word, and now you come back looking like this? Are you an idiot?”
“Well…”
“You have no right to call me a bitch. You… you’re a real bastard. The biggest bastard in the world…”

Overwhelmed with emotion, Ophelia lowered her head again.

My hand, which had been resting on her head, slipped off. I quietly lowered my gaze.

“I apologize.”
“More.”
“I sincerely apologize. I acted recklessly, failing to recognize your wisdom.”
“More.”
“Um… thank you?”
“Yes.”

So, she wanted gratitude, not an apology. Ophelia’s chin seemed to be raised a bit higher than usual.

I chuckled and sat up. Ophelia gasped and tried to stop me, but I ignored her. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. A sharp pain shot through my spine.

“Hey, hey! Rest a bit longer! You’ll die if you move around like that!”
“I’m afraid of the consequences if I stay here any longer.”

I needed to return to the Holy City and assess the situation.

Transmigrators. The Demon King. Stigmas. Slaves.

The words swirled in my mind. I frowned and unwrapped the bandages from my torso.

“Eek!”

A high-pitched scream. For a moment, I thought another girl was in the room. But it was just Ophelia and me.

She was covering her eyes, but I could see her emerald green eyes peeking through her fingers.

“…Was that you?”
“…U-uh…”
“Well… I respect your… modesty.”

Ophelia’s face turned crimson as she kicked me in the shin.

“Shut up! You’re the weird one, stripping in front of a maiden! Are you an exhibitionist? A pervert? Put your clothes on!”
“I don’t have any.”
“I’ll bring you some…”

Ophelia suddenly stopped. She was staring at me, or rather, at my hand, now free of bandages.

“What’s wrong…?”

I followed her gaze.

“….”

I was stunned. There, on the back of my hand, was a distinct, inverted sword-shaped mark.

“Hey,” Ophelia said, her face pale, “that’s…”

I knew. And so did most of the people on this continent.

It was the most recognizable mark in this world.

“…The Hero’s Mark.”

Ophelia muttered, and I gulped.

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Hi Lord Fourth here!
I’m still new to translating as this is my second novel to pick up, so if you find some mistakes or inconsistencies let me know about it on the dedicated channel on discord.