Taming The Evil Saintess – Chapter 31

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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Lyla, the dragonoid warrior, was someone I knew from my mercenary days.

The Black Eagle Mercenary Group in the north was essentially a dumping ground for slaves and convicts. But as with any group of people, strong bonds could form even in the most unlikely of places.

“Hey, newbie. You look too weak to last a day here.”

Lyla was a veteran, having joined the mercenary group a month before me. It was strange for a newbie to be giving advice, but looking back, I understood.

I had just been transported into Elliot’s body and was completely clueless about combat. I must have looked pathetic.

“What’s your name?”

“Elliot.”

“…Why bother asking the name of someone who’s going to die soon? I’m still too soft.”

There was a peculiar tradition in the mercenary group: betting on how long the new recruits would survive.

Lyla had apparently bet a week’s worth of rations that I wouldn’t last a day. And she was wrong. I survived for a whole year.

She ended up taking me under her wing, teaching me the basics of survival. We became friends, sharing stories about our past.

And like everyone else in the mercenary group, she had a tragic backstory.

“I killed a noble.”

“How?”

“I killed a slave trader who dealt in dragonoids. Turned out he was a noble. The heir to some count, or something.”

It was a common story. She had been sentenced to death and sent north. Most people would choose serving in the Black Eagle Mercenary Group for three years, with the possibility of a pardon, over being executed and displayed as a trophy in some noble’s collection.

And Lyla was a veteran, capable of surviving in such a dangerous environment.

“So, that’s what happened. I served my three years and returned home. That’s when Elliot and I parted ways.”

Lyla finished her story, grinning, revealing her sharp fangs.

Ophelia, who had been listening silently, looked at me, and I nodded.

“It’s true.”
“What’s with you, Poppy? You’ve become even more rude.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“Haha. Still so prickly.”

I ignored Lyla, who was slapping me on the back a bit too hard, and gave Ophelia an awkward smile. Whatever misunderstanding she had, her expression was much brighter than before.

“So, Elliot,” Lyla said, perching on the table.

The table creaked under her weight.

“Now that introductions are out of the way, who’s this little lady?”
“I’m not little.”
“Oh really? You look little to me.”
“I’m not little, you overgrown lizard!”
“….”

Lyla’s eyes widened, then her expression hardened.

“You’ve brought a feisty one. If you weren’t Elliot’s companion, I would have split you in half.”
“Gulp.”

Lyla patted the battle-axe strapped to her back. Ophelia’s face turned pale. Lyla was huge and intimidating. But she simply chuckled.

“Just kidding. I know when to draw the line.”

Lyla leaned forward, examining Ophelia’s face.

Ophelia held her breath as the two-legged lizard, easily over six feet tall, loomed over her.

Lyla pulled back, impressed.

“Like a doll.”

Indeed. Ophelia’s beauty was exceptional.

“Such a delicate face… you must be from a noble family… Elliot,”
“What.”

“Is this little lady your wife? I didn’t know you had a thing for delicate beauties.”
“W-who’s his wife?!”

Ophelia suddenly yelled. She had been so intimidated by Lyla just moments ago, yet now she was shouting. She must really hate the idea.

Ophelia glared at Lyla.

“Oh my, such a strong reaction. Makes me even more suspicious.”
“I said I’m not! Who would marry this bastard?!”
“…Hmm. Then what’s your relationship?”

At Lyla’s sly question, Ophelia hesitated, looking at her massive claws. But seeing me grinning, she seemed to make up her mind and slammed her fist on the table.

“This… this bastard… kidnapped me! He’s a kidnapper!”

She had finally said it.

“….”

Every eye in the inn was on us. Ophelia, realizing her mistake, slowly lowered her hand. Even Lyla looked at me with a surprised expression.

“Elliot, you didn’t…”
“It’s fine.”

I waved my hand dismissively and stood up.

“Let’s move.”

After moving to our room in the inn, I explained everything to Lyla. That Ophelia was the Saintess, that I was traveling the continent with her, and that we were being pursued by the Holy City.

I didn’t mention the Hero’s Mark. The story would be too long. I would tell her eventually.

“Huh…”

Lyla, as expected, was shocked.

“This little lady… is the Saintess? And you became a paladin? In the Holy City? Where the Pope lives?”
“Not anymore, but yes.”
“You? Elliot? A paladin?”
“….”

She seemed surprised by the wrong things. Well, it was understandable.

During our mercenary days, I hadn’t had the luxury of concerning myself with religion. I had become a paladin as part of my plan for a peaceful retirement, not out of any genuine faith.

“Anyway, the Holy City is after us. We can’t stay in the Empire any longer. The Auriga Desert is relatively safe. We’ll lay low here for a while.”
“That’s a wise choice. Auriga isn’t exactly known for its law and order. It’s the perfect place for an outlaw like you.”
“I’m not an outlaw.”

I denied it, but Lyla simply winked.

“Welcome to Auriga, my old friend.”

Lyla spread her arms wide and declared dramatically. I hugged her. There was no reason to refuse.

“….”

Ophelia’s brow furrowed.

“So, do you have a place to stay?”
“I do. But I still need your help.”

I got straight to the point.

“There’s someone I want to meet in the Auriga Desert. I need your help to find him.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”

Lyla agreed readily, before I even explained. I scratched my cheek, puzzled.

“You haven’t even heard my explanation.”
“Do I need one?”
“You’re agreeing this easily?”

Lyla grinned and crossed her arms.

“You saved our lives back in the mercenary group. I can’t refuse a request from my benefactor after four years.”

Benefactor. I didn’t think I deserved such a title. I had simply fought alongside them when Geldmere, the One-Eyed Knight, attacked.

“Elliot, you must have been quite something.”

Ophelia said, genuinely impressed. I shrugged.

“So, who is this person you want to meet?”

There were three Mark bearers in the Auriga Desert. One of them was currently unavailable, and another had a difficult personality, so I was saving them for later.

That left only one option.

“Azar de Albrecht. Also known as the Golden Lion.”

In Sword & Magic Chronicle, the hero’s party consisted of three front-line fighters and three back-line supporters. And Azar, the Golden Lion, was a character with excellent stats and skills for the front lines.

The ultimate tank. He was also kind and loyal. In my opinion, he was the best companion.

“….”

Lyla’s reaction was unexpected. Her expression turned cold. It was difficult to read a dragonoid’s emotions, but I could tell she was displeased.

“What’s wrong?”
“He’s the lord of Lavre, a territory on the outskirts of Auriga.”

Lavre. A small city with a population of about five hundred, but an important stop for caravan traders. In the game, the shops in Lavre sold rare items not found elsewhere.

“I know that.”

I replied, wondering if Azar’s personality was as twisted as Ophelia’s. It wouldn’t be surprising.

The characters in this world were different from their game counterparts. I was prepared for that. Azar, like Ophelia, was an essential character I needed to recruit.

But Lyla’s next words were far more shocking than I could have imagined.

“Lord Azar de Albrecht… is currently a commander in the Demon King’s army.”
“…What the fuck?”

—

That evening, it rained in Lavre.

Lightning flashed through the dark clouds, casting an eerie glow on the unlit castle. Lord Azar de Albrecht sat in his chambers, lost in thought, listening to the sound of the rain.

“…Hmm.”

Perhaps bored, Azar stood up. The sound of his greaves echoed through the empty castle. He descended the stairs and looked at the man standing nearby, head bowed.

“Your name was Richard, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, milord.”

He was bowing his head as a sign of loyalty, but his posture was awkward, and Azar frowned. But instead of reprimanding him, he asked,

“In that ‘game’ world you observed, what kind of person was I?”

Richard. Currently Azar’s advisor and a pawn of the Demon King. A self-proclaimed soul from another world. An enemy of this world, someone Azar could kill without hesitation.

Richard looked up, a subservient smile on his face. He whispered,

“Lord Azar, you were a commander in the Demon King’s army, a champion of evil, corrupting the world.”
“….”
“A figure of… admiration for us transmigrators.”

Azar had heard this countless times, but he kept asking. He received the same answer every time, and it seemed to clear his mind, even if only slightly.

“A soul from another world… it’s a difficult story to believe, even after hearing it so many times.”
“But we…”
“Enough.”

Azar interrupted Richard and chuckled.

“How amusing. Utterly amusing.”

The desert landscape was visible through the tall windows.

Rumble.

Lightning flashed across the night sky. Azar loved this city. He stood up and walked towards the door.

“You do what you promised.”
“…Yes, milord.”
“Regardless of what I was in that… game of yours…”

Azar opened the massive doors.

“I will forge my own path.”

A bold declaration.

But to Azar, it was simply the truth.

Richard, watching him from behind, smiled slyly, making sure Azar couldn’t see him.

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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.