How to Reform an Evil Saintess – Chapter 61

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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The etiquette lessons continued all morning.

“Now, here you bow politely. Like this.”
“What a show.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you look great.”

Ophelia sighed inwardly, watching Emily Vallière’s pretentious display.

Why was this woman so enthusiastic? She wasn’t even getting paid. Couldn’t she just pretend to be teaching?

Ophelia had tried to reason with her earlier, but Emily had simply shaken her head.

The only good thing was that she didn’t have to speak formally anymore. That was the result of her almost begging Emily.

She was tired. She wanted to forget about etiquette and just sleep. But she couldn’t. Ophelia glanced at the building behind her. Elliot was surely watching her from inside.

“….”

Elliot was a terrifying man, constantly vigilant and in control. Once, while camping in Auriga, Ophelia had tried to draw on his face while he was sleeping.

He had grabbed her wrist the moment she touched him, his grip so strong that she thought her wrist would break.

He was that meticulous, even in his sleep. So, he was definitely watching her now. Ophelia forced a smile and followed Emily’s instructions.

“Good! You’re finally showing some enthusiasm, Saintess!”
“Haha… Emily… it’s almost lunchtime… shouldn’t we take a break?”
“Hmm! You’re right. I’ll take you to a good restaurant. My master’s name should be enough to get us a table.”
“Oh, I was actually thinking of going alone…”
“We can use this opportunity to learn some dining etiquette as well!”
“Damn it.”

Was this what they called… well-intentioned malice?

Emily continued to lecture her even as they ate. Ophelia had learned etiquette during her Saintess training, but she had forgotten everything after years of living… freely. So, Emily’s criticisms were constant.

“That’s not how you use a napkin!”
“….”
“Saintess, you need to be more refined when you cut your food. You’re not a mercenary.”
“….”

The constant nagging was making her throat dry. Ophelia reached for her water glass, and Emily’s eyes widened.

“Oh? Saintess, what’s that ring?”

Emily was interested. A smile appeared on Ophelia’s lips. She could change the subject.

“Oh, this? It’s nothing. Just a gift.”
“Isn’t that… the Morningstar Ring? From the Reudenstein vault! The previous Archmage donated it!”
“Well, I am the Saintess.”

Emily gasped, and Ophelia shrugged. It always felt good to be praised. And the Morningstar Ring was one of the best artifacts on the continent.

“Did the Sword Saint give it to you?”
“No, Elliot did.”
“Wow…”

Emily examined the ring with admiration, then tilted her head.

“But… why is it on your left ring finger?”
“Well…”

Ophelia hesitated. Emily would surely overreact if she told her the truth. Something about eternal love, or whatever.

“Hmm…”

It was too much trouble. But… Ophelia was feeling a bit smug. So, she tossed her hair and said, her voice slightly sharp, “He just… put it on me. Can you believe it?”
“Oh my god!”

Emily’s reaction was exactly as she had expected.

“That’s… that’s it! That’s it!”
“That’s what?”
“A proposal!”
“Well…”

Elliot hadn’t treated her any differently after giving her the ring. But if you looked at the facts, Emily wasn’t entirely wrong. Ophelia chuckled and waved her hand dismissively.

“H-hmmm. Well, it’s only natural for someone like me…”
“As expected of the Saintess! You’re amazing! You can even toy with the hero! A true femme fatale!”
“…What did you just call me?”

Who’s a femme fatale?

“It means you’re amazing!”

If that’s what she said, then it must be true. She was an airhead, after all. Ophelia nodded reluctantly.

“….”

She suddenly became aware of the stares. Emily had been so loud that all the other customers were looking at them.

“A-ahem.”

Ophelia cleared her throat, embarrassed.

“Anyway, let’s go.”

Emily, sensing Ophelia’s discomfort, smiled awkwardly and straightened up.

“Ah, Saintess. Since we’re done eating, would you like to try something… nice?”
“Nice?”
“My master told me about it. It’s very popular among the Imperial elite.”

Emily pulled out a small box. Ophelia, intrigued, peeked inside. It was filled with finely ground leaves.

“Huh?”

—

The plan was set. After the hero’s inauguration ceremony, we would go to the Great Forest, pick up Erwin from the Elven King, and then head north to the Ice Palace.

We would deliver a letter to the Tsar and request the Ice Warrior’s cooperation. Then, we would attack Vermina. It was a simple plan.

According to the game, Vermina’s army wouldn’t be able to withstand our forces. And since we didn’t know when the Black Ogre would invade the eastern coast of the Empire, I planned to send Owen there.

The plan was perfect. In theory.

“…The transmigrators.”

They were the problem. The transmigrators knew what I knew. I couldn’t predict their schemes. Just a few months ago, a dark mage had been with Azar, trying to manipulate him. So, I wouldn’t be surprised if something even more shocking happened.

“This is troublesome.”

Of course, the transmigrators weren’t acting of their own free will. They were from the same world as me; I felt a certain sense of sympathy for them.

But they were marked with stigmas. The power of an evil god, the opposite of a Mark. A curse that couldn’t be resisted or removed.

Could they be saved? Probably not. No one had ever tried to remove a stigma, and no one had ever succeeded. But it was worth a try. I had Ophelia, the best cleric on the continent.

“By the way…”

I had seen Ophelia here earlier, during her etiquette lessons. Where did she go? I found her in the backyard. She was yawning, dressed in her white holy robes, looking like a high-class cat in a shabby alley.

“Where’s Emily?”
“She went back. It’s almost four. She has to go to her own lessons.”
“Hmm.”
“You’ve caused me a lot of trouble.”

Ophelia glared at me, and I chuckled. I was about to say something when I noticed the stick-like object in her hand.

“What’s that?”
“Heh. You’re a country bumpkin, aren’t you?”

Ophelia said with a smug expression, showing me the long stick.

“It’s very popular among the Imperial nobles. It’s good for relieving fatigue.”
“Huh?”

A white paper, rolled up, filled with finely ground leaves. Ophelia used magic to light the end, and…

Puff.

…a cloud of pungent smoke filled the air.

“What do you think? It’s called a mana incense. It helps you recover mana and clear your head…”
“….”
“Surprised? You country bumpkin. Here, try it.”

Ophelia offered me the cigarette, or rather, the mana incense. I stared at her, stunned.

She seemed to misinterpret my shock. Her face flushed, and she quickly pulled her hand back.

“N-no! It was a mistake! Don’t get the wrong idea just because I offered you something I’ve already smoked!”
“No, it’s just…”
“H-here, I’ll give you a new one! Hey, Ured!”

Ured, the Inquisitor, who was passing by, unfortunately caught Ophelia’s eye. He approached her, and she snatched the scripture book he was holding.

“What’s with the scripture? Are you looking for a passage? If so, just ask me. I, Ured, have memorized every word…”
“Oh, just shut up.”

Rip. Ophelia tore out the thinnest, softest page from the back of the book.

“A-ah…! The scripture…!”
“Shut up. It was a blank page.”
“But the scripture itself is sacred! Desecrating it might incur divine punishment!”
“I’m the Saintess. I don’t get divine punishment.”

Ophelia sprinkled some leaves onto the page, rolled it up, and offered it to me. She even grinned.

“Here.”
“…Ophelia.”
“What? You won’t die from inhaling a little smoke! It’s good for you. You’re such a coward.”
“Isn’t this… a cigarette?”
“What’s a cigarette? This is just incense. It helps you recover mana and divine power.”
“So, a cigarette.”
“What’s a cigarette?”
“….”

I reluctantly took it. It looked like a cigarette, but it was slightly different.

It looked like… weed.

Ophelia’s image started to overlap with that of a weed smoking gangster with a gun in my mind.

My decision was made.

“This is… confiscated.”

I took the… mana grass from Ophelia’s mouth and the small box from her pocket. Ophelia yelled, “Why?!”
“It’s confiscated.”
“Why are you only picking on me?! Emily smokes too! She said it’s a must-have for mages!”
“….”

I knew about this leaf. A mana recovery item used by mages in the game. It was just a simple leaf-shaped item in the game, but it seemed people smoked it in this world.

“In any case, it doesn’t suit you.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a matter of public decency.”

It might suit Elderian, a well-dressed middle-aged man with a monocle. He would look like a character from a noir film. But Ophelia, in her holy robes, smoking… mana grass? No.

“It’s not happening.”

A villainess Saintess was fine. But a drug-addicted genius Saintess? No.

“Damn it! You’re always picking on me!”

Ophelia stormed off. She probably felt wronged, but I had to do it.

“Wasn’t that a bit harsh?”

Ured asked, looking at the torn scripture page with sad eyes.

“Even some of the high priests in the Holy City smoke that incense. It’s not harmful, and it has good effects.”
“…I know.”

I sighed.

“I had no choice.”
“Well, if you say so, Hero.”

That was one of Ured’s few good qualities. He didn’t ask too many questions. Ured tucked the scripture under his arm and looked in the direction Ophelia had gone, then his expression hardened.

“By the way, I have something to tell you, Hero.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve detected some… unusual movements in the Holy City.”
“Unusual movements?”

The Holy City. So, the Pope or the cardinals were up to something.

“What are they doing now?”
“I don’t know the details. I’m here in the Imperial Capital. But according to a high priest I’m acquainted with, they’re trying to change the doctrine.”
“Can they just change the doctrine like that?”
“Normally, no. But the Holy City is in a difficult position. They were excluded from the Continental Alliance meeting, and their only Mark bearer, the Saintess, has requested asylum in the Empire. They’re probably desperate.”
“….”
“And I have a feeling their intentions are not… benevolent.”

Ured made the sign of the cross. I frowned. What was that old geezer planning? He had been humiliated just a few weeks ago. I didn’t think he would try anything so soon, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Keep an eye on them. Tell me if you find anything. I’ll contact Archbishop Belwin.”
“Yes.”
“If that bastard Pope tries anything funny, I’ll kill him this time.”

Killing the Pope was absurd. Even the hero’s immunity wouldn’t extend that far. But if he tried to harm Ophelia again, I would gladly accept the consequences.

“Haha. Killing the Pope… no other hero has ever said such a thing.”

Ured said, genuinely amused.

“You care about the Saintess, don’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“May I ask… what is the Saintess to you?”

Ured asked. What was Ophelia to me? It was difficult to say. She wasn’t a daughter. I had approached her with ulterior motives. But now…

“She’s… more precious than anything.”

The words held multiple meanings. Ophelia was a comrade. An indispensable comrade. She would play a crucial role in the battle against Vermina and the other commanders of the Demon King’s army.

“Haha. Is that so?”

Ured wasn’t looking at me. He was looking over my shoulder. Rustle. I heard a sound. I looked back, but there was only a thick bush.

“What was that?”
“I think it was a cat.”

Ured turned back to me, a mischievous smile on his face.

“A very… feisty cat.”

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We got gangster, weed smoking Ophelia before GTA 6, crazy times.