Taming The Evil Saintess – Chapter 40

—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
—————————————————————–

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

“Bastard…”
“I told you I was kidding.”
“Asshole.”

The misunderstanding was cleared up, but she was still sulking.

‘You… you bastard… you’re toying with me…’

She had been like this for a while. She refused to even talk to me for days until Lyla finally intervened.

“You piece of trash…”

She still wasn’t happy, despite the apology.

Thump.

Ophelia kicked my shin. It didn’t hurt.

“Saintess, don’t be too hard on Poppy.”

Lyla chuckled, trying to appease her, but Ophelia simply glared at me. I might have gone a bit too far with my teasing.

Of course, I didn’t apologize.

“So, Elliot, where are we going now?”
“There’s someone I want to meet in Auriga.”
“Another commander in the Demon King’s army?”
“I doubt it.”

I replied to Lyla’s question and started walking. We left Lavre and arrived at a small city with an Adventurers’ Guild. I planned to send replies to Ured and Owen and then find the remaining named character in Auriga.

“Just curious, who is this person?”
“Olman, the blacksmith.”
“Aha. Are you getting a new sword?”

The name Olman seemed to be well-known in Auriga. Well, he was considered one of the best blacksmiths on the continent.

Not all Marks were combat-oriented. Just as Owen’s Mark of Shadows specialized in information gathering, there were also Marks for crafting. Olman possessed the Mark of the Smith God. I needed a new sword after my fight with Azar.

“I heard he doesn’t make swords for just anyone.”
“It’s fine.”

I had a letter of recommendation from Azar. And I could always show him the Hero’s Mark if necessary.

“By the way…”

As I was writing a letter at the Adventurers’ Guild, Lyla sighed and leaned against the table. She gestured towards Ophelia, who was sulking near the entrance.

“Are you just going to leave her like that?”
“She’ll get over it. She’s moody.”
“Maybe. But it’s best to resolve these things quickly. If you miss the opportunity, it might be too late.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“We’re warriors; we can resolve our differences with a fight. But the Saintess… she’s different.”

Lyla looked towards a nearby stall selling trinkets.

“What about it?”
“Women love gifts.”
“Are you a woman?”
“I’m a warrior.”
“….”
“You dense idiot.”

Lyla slapped me on the back and walked towards the reception desk. I watched her go, then finished my letter and stood up.

Lyla had a point. I had only teased and tormented Ophelia; I had never given her a gift. Nor had I received one from her.

“Ophelia.”

I approached Ophelia, who was still pouting. She scowled when she saw me.

“Don’t make that face.”
“Fuck off.”
“Here.”

I placed the item I had just bought in Ophelia’s hand. A laurel leaf hairpin. I couldn’t find anything suitable for Ophelia at a backwater stall like this, so I chose something simple and inconspicuous.

“What’s this?”
“A gift. I wanted to thank you.”
“….”

Ophelia stared at the hairpin, then looked up at me. Her eyes narrowed, then her face flushed crimson. She looked like a chameleon.

“W-what? This… cheap trinket… I don’t need it. Hmph.”

Despite her words, her ears were red. She liked it.

I chuckled.

“Even a cheap gift can hold meaning. Remember what I said about Emily’s brooch?”

Ophelia was still wearing the golden brooch. She must consider Emily a friend. Ophelia carefully placed the hairpin in her pocket.

“Aren’t you going to wear it?”
“Why would I wear your cheap gift? I have better hairpins.”
“But you’re not throwing it away.”
“I will! I’ll throw it away later! When you’re not looking!”

Ophelia yelled, then glanced at me, as if worried she had hurt my feelings. Her concern was infuriating. I decided to tease her.

“Actually, I was thinking of getting you a book.”
“A book? Why?”
“I saw you looking at that… obscene magazine with such wide eyes. I wanted to get you a book about healthy sexual education, but I couldn’t find anything in this backwater village. Perhaps in a larger city…”

I couldn’t finish my sentence.

Ophelia headbutted me.

—

Working in a blacksmith’s forge was tedious.

Pumping the bellows, organizing tools, carrying ingots… And since most of the tasks were considered too strenuous for a woman, Illine, the apprentice, was usually assigned to the front desk.

“Sigh.”

Illine sighed. Perhaps becoming a blacksmith hadn’t been the right choice. She had been fortunate enough to become Olman’s apprentice, but after several years, she still hadn’t even touched a hammer. She was stuck doing menial chores.

It was frustrating. Even if it was an unspoken rule among craftsmen, shouldn’t she be allowed to make at least a hoe?

“This is the worst.”

She was past marriageable age. Working in front of the forge had dried out her skin and given her an unfeminine physique.

Was it worth giving up her femininity to become a blacksmith? Perhaps she should just marry the first decent man who came along.

As she daydreamed, the door opened.

Clang.

A man and a woman entered the forge. The man was tall and handsome, wearing tarnished armor. The woman was petite and wore an iron mask.

“Um… can I help you?”
“Yes.”
“And your companion…?”
“My younger sister. She’s been suffering from leprosy since she was young, so she wears a mask to hide her… disfigurement.”

Thwack. The woman suddenly hit the man on the back.

“She also has a bit of a temper, so please bear with her.”
“O-of course…”

Unusual customers. Illine thought as the man approached the counter and leaned against it. He looked at the weapons displayed behind her and smiled.

“Impressive craftsmanship.”
“Thank you.”
“The layering and forging… the best I’ve ever seen. You must be a skilled blacksmith.”
“You have a keen eye.”

Illine felt a flicker of attraction. He was handsome and seemed interested in blacksmithing. And judging by his armor, he was wealthy. A perfect husband.

Should she just… ask him out?

“….”

As Illine seriously considered it, she noticed the girl in the iron mask. Her green eyes, visible through the holes in the mask, were glaring at her. A look that promised death if she made a wrong move.

It was just a look, but it sent shivers down Illine’s spine.

“…Um… I’ll get my master.”

She quickly excused herself, giving up on flirting with the knight.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

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.