Taming the Evil Saintess

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The Labre Castle was embarrassingly small to even be called a castle. It seemed more like a small fortress at best.

Fortunately, the soldier guarding the gate was not a demon, and he was someone who could actually communicate. Upon hearing our introduction as wandering priests, the soldier proceeded to convey our business to Azar inside, and shortly returned with good news.

“The lord has instructed you to enter.”

I was relieved we weren’t turned away right at the door.

As I stepped inside the castle, I observed the state of the knights lined up within.

There were barely around ten of them—a manageable number.

After all, could there really be so many knights in a tiny estate? Demons were scattered here and there, but they were all of the low tier.

“When did you say a frontal assault was suicide?”

“The situation has changed.”

It was highly likely that Azar had become a high-ranking member of the Demon King’s army because his wife, who should have already passed away, survived by possessing another.

The fact that he was gathering herbs was also a clear indication that her ailment was still grave.

Thus, he had chosen a frontal assault.

There was something trustworthy about this murky situation.

Right beside me was the audacious Saintess.

I rest my hand on her crown.

“I will trust only Ophelia.”

“Damn it, take your hand off me. And you need to explain the situation if you want me to understand!”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Geez.”

Despite grumbling, Ophelia didn’t push the matter further.

Soon enough, a man walked out from the stairs leading to the castle’s underground.

“A priest, huh? Rare visitor.”

The Golden Lion Azar looked pretty much the same as I had seen in the game.

He was clad in dark armor, with a hand axe at his waist, messy black long hair, deep dark circles under his eyes, and a haggard expression.

The title of Black Lion suited him better than Golden Lion.

I was worried he’d turned into a hideous creature after joining the Demon King’s army, but it seemed he hadn’t fallen that far.

“I greet the lord.”

“Ugh.”

I tried to push Ophelia’s head down to bow, but Azar waved his hand dismissively.

“Formalities are unnecessary. Let’s get to the point.”

“Right. To introduce ourselves, we are wandering across the continent…”

“Enough with the theatrics.”

Cutting me off, Azar glanced between Ophelia and me, then cast his gaze toward Laila, who awkwardly stood behind us.

“A nun and knight from the Cathedral, along with a dragonkin mercenary, am I right?”

“….”

“There’s no need to wear that expression. I’m not blind enough not to recognize the armor that a knight wears.”

At that, I looked down at my gray armor.

There was no specific emblem of a knight, but he seemed to have recognized it just by the armor’s shape.

Azar was indeed experienced.

“So, why have you come from that esteemed Cathedral? Surely not to eliminate a lord cooperating with the Demon King’s army?”

“What if I said that was the case?”

“Then I would feel reluctant to personally take you down.”

While he said it in a seemingly disinterested manner, the expression on Azar’s face bore undeniable sincerity.

Hiccup. Ophelia gasped, startled.

I raised my hands, signaling my lack of intent to fight.

“We merely believed our modest skills could be of help to the lord.”

“Help?”

“To be precise, to your wife.”

Upon hearing that, a crack appeared in Azar’s expression for the first time.

“Where did you hear that… no, it must have been those herbalists. I emphasized secrecy so much.”

Having understood on his own, Azar clicked his tongue and continued.

“Regrettably, I don’t need your assistance.”

“We are clergy. We can use Holy Magic. It will surely be of help to your wife.”

“Haha, do you think I haven’t tried that?”

Azar replied.

“I’ve already tried everything. Talented doctors, priests, sorcerers, mages, spiritualists—all of them. It was all useless. No meaning at all.”

“So, you turned to the Demon King’s hand for aid? Can’t you think for yourself?”

Ophelia interjected.

The nun, speaking in a casual tone, caught Azar off guard and made his eyes widen, yet he quickly wore a wry smile.

“Such a presumptuous remark.”

“I’ll determine what’s presumptuous or not.”

Ophelia scowled.

“Well then, at least let us check on your wife’s condition. We were dispatched from the Cathedral, after all. In matters of Holy Magic, we are superior to the average clergy. I can guarantee that much.”

This was indeed true.

Ophelia, standing next to me, was likely the most exceptional user of Holy Magic in the entire continent.

Ultimately, Azar stared at Ophelia’s face for a long moment before shaking his head.

“I suppose I have no choice. Show them to the underground.”

“Thank you.”

“However, don’t even think about doing anything foolish. Remember, you’re in a dangerous spot.”

“Yes.”

Internally, I celebrated our small victory.

Azar’s wife, Aria, was in the basement.

On a bed made of black thread lay a woman with skin so pale it was almost white.

“What is this…?”

“It’s made of magic threads.”

Laila murmured.

It was a sensation we had both felt multiple times during our mercenary days. Having fought demons all day, Laila and I had a heightened sensitivity to magic.

Without a doubt, that thread was a product of Dark Magic.

It was crystal clear that a Dark Mage or possessor was involved.

Ophelia slowly approached the bed, her hand infused with golden Holy Power.

“Don’t touch that thread. You don’t know what might happen…”

“Shut up. I know. No, I probably know better than you.”

“…Well, that’s true.”

I realized whom I was attempting to give advice.

Ophelia reached out her hand filled with Holy Power, cast a spell, and wrapped Aria’s body in a thin golden veil.

“…”

Soon, Ophelia wore a dark expression and let out a deep sigh.

“There’s no hope.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her body should have died, yet it is being forced to live. We’re prolonging her designated lifespan.”

With those words, I looked at Aria. She truly looked like a corpse.

She seemed to be on the verge of a vegetative state.

In other words, it meant her life was only attached through Dark Magic.

Aria could not survive without magic.

“Is recovery impossible? Even with Holy Magic?”

“Holy Magic? Not a chance! Even if the God himself came, it wouldn’t work. This is an unsolvable problem.”

Ophelia crossed her arms and leaned against the wall.

Azar, who had followed, listened silently to our conversation.

I turned to Azar and began to speak.

“Did you hear that?”

“….”

Basically, her lifespan was being extended and extended.

Metaphorically speaking, it was like pulling on a rubber band.

It would stretch to a certain point, but if pulled any further, it would lose its elasticity and snap.

Aria’s life was hanging on by a thread, but she would never open her eyes again nor regain her health. Literally, she was just hanging on. Soon, the rubber band would snap, and her breath would cease.

This was not something that could be resolved.

“Lord, this treatment holds no meaning.”

“I know that.”

“The Dark Mage is deceiving you for the sake of treatment.”

“I know that too.”

However, Azar closed his eyes and answered tersely.

“I understand everything. I know well that he didn’t approach me with pure intentions. I know that Aria will never open her eyes again.”

“…. ”

“It’s just the natural order. Aria’s death.”

Azar let out a heavy sigh and collapsed into a chair.

“That’s why it is even more unacceptable. Who decided that natural order? The God up in the sky?”

As he spoke, Azar raised his elbow.

A shield-shaped mark was engraved there.

“I don’t believe in Gods. I don’t doubt their existence. I simply say that they are certainly not benevolent beings.”

“…. ”

Laila frowned at his words.

Then, she shot a sharp question at him.

“Even if… you were betrayed, even by that belief?”

Azar let out a hollow laugh and closed his eyes.

“Gladly.”

*

Dark Mage Richard was nothing more than a puppet. No, perhaps the term middle manager suited him better. A slave of sorts who had to dance to the whims of those above him.

He was sent to the Labre Territory under semi-coerced orders. Shortly after, he received the mission to convince Azar, the Divine Mark Holder, to join the Demon King’s army.

The fortunate thing was that, unlike the other named characters, Azar had a significant weakness.

It was easy to lure him in with the life of his wife. To that, they added a touch of lip service. In the game, he had been a high-ranking member of the Demon King’s army. A warrior who dared to mock the Gods.

Azar willingly joined them.

Or rather, he thought he had.

“…Damn it.”

From the window of the castle that Richard was secretly peeking through, he spotted a woman passing by.

It was a familiar face.

Someone who had also cleared the game.

So naturally, he could not help but remember Ophelia Meredein’s face.

Saint Ophelia. A distinguished named character. It would be beneficial in many ways to kill her right now.

Certainly, a slightly unrefined saint could be killed easily if Richard put his mind to it, but the knight beside her was different.

The blonde knight next to her… was none other than Elliot, the Slave Knight, who had killed Jake not long ago.

He couldn’t muster the confidence to win against the two.

“…”

He bit his lower lip until it bled.

Things had taken a difficult turn.

Just yesterday, everything had been going smoothly.

He had no idea why they had gotten this far either.

Should he just run away?

But could he even get permission to flee?

Such questions flooded his mind.

Richard shook his head vigorously.

For now, it was best to play dead until they left the castle.

But making Richard’s decision seem futile, the mark engraved on his body began to shine.

[ Ah, can you hear me? ]

“…Idmien?”

[ Haha. I’m glad you can hear me. ]

Chimera Sorcerer Idmien.

A high-ranking member of the Demon King’s army, directly above Richard.

The shoddy graphics piece he had encountered in the game had now become a name Richard dreaded.

And it had been nearly a year since Idmien last issued orders through a mark.

[ I received a report from the chimera I dispatched. The saintess and her escort knight are both there. ]

“…Idmien.”

[ You know that knight killed Jake, right? He was a friend of mine. Oh, and of course, I care about you too. So… ]

“Please…”

Fearing the rest of the sentence, Richard pleaded, but Idmien paid him no mind.

[ Kill them. ]

“…Ah.”

Richard felt everything around him fade away.

No, it was actually turning black.

The next moment, he lost control of his body.