Taming the Evil Saintess

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Elliot was appointed as Ophelia’s escort knight a year and a half ago.

Though he was a near-newcomer as a knight, he claimed to have been a mercenary for several years. It was said that the Archbishop assigned him to Ophelia because he valued his skills highly.

But what did that matter? Ophelia was a saint with divine power surpassing even the Pope among the Church, while that insignificant knight was nothing more than a commoner without the backing of a noble family.

That alone was enough. Elliot couldn’t even touch the tip of Ophelia’s little toe. He must not touch her.

He thought that way, and indeed, that thought was correct. For the past 18 months, Elliot had endured Ophelia’s teasing and torment without any real rebellion.

That appearance was delightful.

He seemed to know his place.

How long could he hold out? Even if he didn’t, could he possibly harm himself?

Ophelia could withstand her dull daily life because nothing pleased her more than bullying Elliot.

That’s why…

“Did you just hit me?”

She steadied her trembling eyes. Ophelia took a deep breath and calmed her anger.

Elliot, right in front of her, responded with his palm raised.

“You saw it accurately.”

He admitted it. A mere commoner knight had slapped the cherished face of the saint in the Church. Normally, that would be a crime worthy of execution. Not just losing his head, but being nailed to a cross and set ablaze wouldn’t be out of the question.

“….”

Ophelia trembled.

This was unthinkable.

It must not happen.

Elliot absolutely must not have hit her.

That thought boiled over into raw emotion spilling from her lips.

“Damn it! You bug-like commoner!!”

Smack!

At the moment she clenched her teeth, her vision became bright. Once again, Ophelia was slapped, hard, on a perfectly fine cheek, and she fell limply onto the flowerbed.

It hurt. It was the first time she had been hit since childhood.

It hurt so much that tears welled up, making Elliot’s figure look blurry.

“A, ouch…”

“I told you, didn’t I? Insults against me will be punished with a slap. Do you lack learning ability?”

“You, you….”

Curse words filled her throat, but Elliot’s gaze was too frigid. If she cursed him any further, she’d get slapped again, so Ophelia kept her mouth shut.

At the same time, a burning sensation spread across her back.

The knights and attendants passing by were whispering among themselves, watching the scene unfold.

“Y-You all go report! This crazy knight dared to slap me…!”

“No, there’s no need for that.”

Elliot knelt down to meet Ophelia’s gaze.

“From today onward, I, knight Elliot, will be the saint’s training instructor.”

“What?”

“From sunrise to sunset, I will guide the saint in her training. Think of it as practice to defeat the Demon King.”

Ophelia blinked her eyes.

A training instructor? Was that even a thing? Why would a saint need a training instructor?

Yet, Elliot’s gaze was as calm as ever. Ophelia knew that he wasn’t lying.

But understanding and accepting were two different matters.

Ophelia shouted loudly.

“That’s ridiculous! Where is that even reasonable!”

“It exists right here.”

Ophelia’s cries fell into silence.

Elliot smiled wryly.

Those emotionless eyes that she hadn’t liked since their first meeting, but at that moment, they seemed to hold a strange passion.

That too was terrifying.

Yet Ophelia denied reality.

“N-No…”

Ophelia shook her head and stood up. She pointed an accusing finger at Elliot and yelled.

“That’s impossible! It must be a lie! They say that sinners who lie to the Holy War will have their tongues cut out! Elliot! Do you want your tongue cut out?!”

“It’s not a lie. And I certainly don’t want my tongue cut out. It’s perfectly fine, isn’t it?”

With those words, Elliot stuck out his tongue.

A childish gesture.

Thud.

That was the sound of Ophelia’s sanity snapping.

*

A few minutes later, Ophelia stopped resisting only after receiving two more slaps.

I clenched my fist tightly, watching Ophelia sitting there blankly.

I slapped her four times, pouring in a year and a half’s worth of grievances.

The humiliation I had suffered at Ophelia’s hands must have been in the hundreds. It felt like all the pent-up frustration was washing away at once.

Honestly, it felt a bit refreshing.

“Sniff, sniff.”

Ophelia hiccuped. Her cheeks were horribly swollen. Her makeup had run due to the tears, leaving her eyes a dark, unseemly color. An appearance that didn’t suit a saint at all.

With a voice crackling from sobbing, Ophelia said.

“You, you’re gonna tell the old man! I’ll make sure of it! Get ready! You better be prepared!”

Did she still have the heart to resist? I shrugged.

In that relaxed posture, Ophelia gritted her teeth and pointed at the ground.

“Kneel and apologize right now!”

“Aren’t you talking about an apology?”

“Yeah! If you kneel and stick your head to the ground to apologize immediately, I might spare your life!”

“Whoa.”

I sighed softly, bringing my index finger to my temple.

“Saint lady, do you perhaps lack brain cells?”

“What?”

“You probably have some, just that your cunning mind works well. Then think carefully with that clever brain of yours, who do you think appointed me to the position of training instructor?”

With that question, Ophelia gulped.

“C-Could it be….”

Before Ophelia could open her mouth, a cracked voice interrupted.

“It’s me.”

From a corner of the garden, an old man holding a cane, Belwin, walked out.

“I appointed Sir Elliot as the training instructor.”

“….”

Ophelia’s eyes trembled.

I shrugged and added.

“What you thought was impossible is indeed true. The Archbishop here granted his permission.”

I hadn’t explicitly said I would wield violence, but at the end of the day, I had received permission.

Belwin must have anticipated this outcome to some degree.

Regardless, his acquiescence to it meant that the threat of the Demon King’s army had grown perilously close.

“If you are displeased with the Archbishop’s choice, you may directly lodge a complaint with the Holy See, Saint Lady. Well, going through all the necessary procedures might take a year, I suppose. And with the Demon King’s army rampaging, it could take even longer, perhaps twice as long.”

As Ophelia’s finger dropped from a prolonged accusation, her expression was one of blank despair mixed with a sense of betrayal.

She had never thought that Belwin would allow this.

“Belwin? Really?”

“The Demon King has appeared. It’s probably a desperate measure.”

“What a ridiculous world… what should I even say about it… it’s somehow funny.”

“Indeed. That saint lady is like this…”

Whispers filled the air.

Ophelia was likely hearing it too, the mocking voices of the attendants she had always looked down upon.

“…This can’t be real.”

However, Ophelia had a very strong sense of pride.

“Old man! What on earth are you thinking?! What will happen when the Pope finds out about this?! You’re going to be in big trouble!”

She screamed loudly, but no one responded.

Ophelia trembled, her body shaking.

Seeing that, I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a smile.

This was merely the joy of an educator.

It wasn’t personal feelings.

Probably.

“Saint Lady. If you continue to be uncooperative, I may have to resort to more violent methods to fulfill my mission. At that point, it won’t just end with a slap. Or do you wish for that?”

I continued calmly.

“What will you do? There are many eyes here. For the sake of your dignity, shall we move inside for now?”

As I said that with a grin, Ophelia trembled.

But instead of cursing me, she redirected her anger toward Belwin.

“Old man! You bastard!”

Smack!

Without hesitation, I slapped Ophelia’s cheek.

Whether it was that I had grown accustomed to being hit several times or that her wounded pride wouldn’t allow her any pain, she glared at me immediately.

“Why this time?!”

“Respecting your elders is a necessary virtue of a proper human being. This is training for that.”

“….”

“I don’t want to see the Saint Lady being ostracized by the Hero Party. Therefore, I plan to turn you into a proper human being over the next three years. I won’t spare any effort… or rather, violence in that regard.”

As Ophelia fell silent, Belwin walked up next to me.

He glanced at her pitiful state and sighed.

“Sir Elliot, even so, hitting her face is a bit excessive… She’ll have to show her face before the congregation next Sabbath like this…”

“It’s fine.”

I shook my head.

Here, this world is different from Earth.

“Holy Magic exists, doesn’t it?”

“…”

“Moreover, this is the Cathedral of the Saint, the very heart of Holy Magic. By tomorrow, it won’t show at all.”

As I said that with a smile, this time, Belwin’s eyes wobbled.

Yet, rather than objecting any further, he subtly turned away.

An unspoken agreement it was.

“Ah, aaah…”

Betrayed even by Belwin, whom she had trusted, Ophelia looked up at me with tear-soaked eyes.

“Well, that’s how it is.”

I raised my hand to scratch my head. The moment my hand reached above my head, Ophelia flinched and covered her face.

Had she already developed a conditioned reflex?

“Very reliable.”

Indeed, only by beating the beast will it learn to obey.