Taming the Evil Saintess

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In a corner of the hospital room.

“….”

Sitting blankly, Ophelia slowly brushed her cheek.

It didn’t hurt. According to Elliot, the Holy Magic of the Cathedral was top-notch throughout the entire continent. They could even reattach severed limbs, so fixing Ophelia’s swollen cheek was an easy task.

However, Ophelia sat in a daze for quite a while in the hospital room.

The physical pain had disappeared. The problem was the mental anguish.

“Why, why…?”

She stumbled over her words. The events that had just transpired felt unreal.

Elliot had slapped her. A mere knight had dared to strike the Saintess. Just that alone was nonsensical, but what was even more shocking was that the Archbishop had condoned Elliot’s actions.

Elliot declared that he would continue to discipline Ophelia until a hero appeared.

Today’s humiliation meant it would extend into the future.

“That damn….”

Muttering to herself, Ophelia suddenly covered her mouth and looked around. For a brief moment, the fear of discipline had embedded itself deeply in her mind.

Fortunately, Elliot was nowhere to be seen in the corridor outside the room. She sighed in relief and slammed her fist down on the bed.

“Argh! So annoying!”

Why did she have to be cautious about every single curse she wanted to utter?

In this Cathedral, Ophelia held absolute power. Being the Saintess meant that. She could speak informally and curse at the Archbishop without fear of punishment, and she had never faced repercussions for bullying the knights up until now.

Yes. Until now.

Ultimately, it was Elliot, that knight, who was the problem.

“I need… I need to find a method.”

Ophelia cradled her head, curling up.

“I can’t keep going like this….”

If she were to experience the same humiliation and disgrace as before, her prideful self might just bite her tongue and die.

She pondered how to punish Elliot again and again.

But nothing came to mind. Now that the Archbishop had sanctioned it, no one in the Cathedral could restrain Elliot’s tyranny.

No, it wasn’t impossible. If a cardinal or even the Pope got involved, it would be a different story. If she submitted a petition to the Holy See as Elliot suggested, something could be done.

“…What can I do?”

Ophelia let out a deep sigh. She didn’t want to get involved with the Pope either. If things escalated, all her previous evil deeds would come to light.

But what else could she do?

Ophelia had a personality that believed in returning the favor in kind. More important than her own standing was to see Elliot fall into a pit of despair.

Today, she would return to her chambers and draft a letter to the Holy See.

Then by tomorrow morning, she would entrust it to the courier.

With the Saintess’s seal stamped on it, action would likely be taken within six months at the earliest.

“That bastard, he enjoyed it earlier, didn’t he?”

The thought of beheading Elliot and hanging his head in the middle of the Cathedral made her smile uncontrollably.

“Just you wait.”

Muttering to herself, Ophelia gritted her teeth.

“I’ll show you who is more ruthless.”

*

Early the next morning.

To shake off the drowsiness, Ophelia shook her head vigorously.

She had stayed up the entire previous night writing the letter. Even then, she wasn’t satisfied with her handwriting and had to wake a sleeping maid to have her rewrite it.

The completed letter was now safely tucked in Ophelia’s arms.

“….”

The Cathedral was as vast as its reputation, so she had to make her way to the plaza to hand the letter to the courier.

Ophelia pulled the hood low over her face and hurried across the plaza.

Being the Saintess, there was no reason for her to worry about others’ gazes, but this case was different. Attracting unnecessary attention could become a hassle.

Most importantly, she did not want to run into that knight again. Who knows what absurd excuse he might find to oppress her? The situation was different from yesterday. She absolutely wanted to avoid being slapped in the face in public, especially not in a plaza filled with people.

Lost in her thoughts, she finally arrived at the post office.

Just as Ophelia was about to joyfully pull the letter from her arms—

“There you are.”

“Ugh.”

A deep voice pierced her ears.

Ophelia’s expression stiffened.

How could she not recognize it? After living together for almost a year and a half, she could identify Elliot’s voice with just one word.

So instead of turning her body, she spoke with as thin a voice as possible.

“You, you must have mistaken me for someone else….”

“No, I think I have seen you perfectly.”

However, Elliot had also lived with her for a year and a half. He immediately recognized her voice too.

Before long, Elliot’s strong hand pressed down on Ophelia’s shoulder, forcing her to turn around.

Their eyes met.

“Good morning. But it’s surprising to see you awake so early. Don’t you usually sleep in at this time?”

“Ugh….”

“Then why the odd expression? It’s not like you. Shouldn’t this be the time to look down on me like a bug? Are you feeling unwell?”

His mocking tone ignited a fire within her.

She barely managed to suppress the curses that were bubbling up to her throat.

“You were up all night doing something, wasn’t it because of that?”

“What?”

“Did you have something to do at the post office? Sending a letter, perhaps?”

At those words, Ophelia gulped.

She tightened her clothing and hid her letter tightly in her arms. If Elliot found out she intended to send a petition to the Holy See, she couldn’t predict what he might do.

“Ah, no… it’s just… umm….”

“Well, it’s not my place to meddle.”

Fortunately, Elliot didn’t seem interested in pursuing the topic any further.

Instead, he grabbed Ophelia’s hand and started pulling her along.

“You seem fine, so let’s get going.”

“Where to…?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Elliot grinned.

A sinister smile.

“Training.”

With that, Ophelia found herself half-dragged by Elliot toward the outskirts of the Cathedral.

She wanted to rip off his arm, but it was futile against the strength of a trained knight.

“Um, um. I have something else to do….”

“Is that so? What a coincidence. So do I. I’m here to teach Lady Ophelia’s training. If you have something else to do, you can have a maid run your errands or do it during your evening free time.”

“Ugh.”

There was no gap to escape from.

That bastard Elliot was clearly enjoying this situation.

Was there really no way to get out of it?

As Ophelia pondered, a brilliant idea flashed in her mind.

“….”

Yesterday, Elliot had slapped her every time she swore. He had told her to maintain decorum and refrain from insulting others.

If that were the case…

Wouldn’t it be enough just to say nothing at all?

If she ignored him entirely to prevent him from finding fault, she wouldn’t have to face any slaps or humiliation.

And if Elliot pressed the issue, she could pass it off as a vow of silence. Although Ophelia would never understand them, she had seen the priests in the Cathedral occasionally undergo a vow of silence to test their faith.

‘Let’s see if things go your way.’

With her thoughts settled, Ophelia smirked as she watched Elliot’s back.

*

“This is the place.”

They had arrived at the training grounds.

Even though it was early morning, some diligent knights were swinging their swords at scarecrows. However, the instant they locked eyes on Ophelia and me, they quickly scurried back into the barracks.

It seemed that the rumors from yesterday had spread rapidly. To make matters worse, word had circulated that I had beaten the Saintess senseless.

Suddenly, I was viewed as a crazy knight. No sane knight would want to associate with me.

But thanks to that, the training grounds were completely empty. It was perfect with no eyes watching.

“Today, we will train here. Are you ready? If you need to warm up, feel free to do so.”

I said while looking at Ophelia, but she continued to keep her mouth shut and stared up at me.

“Saintess?”

“….”

“Saintess?”

Is she broken? I didn’t hit her that hard, did I?

As those thoughts crossed my mind, Ophelia finally spoke up.

“I’m on a vow of silence. Don’t talk to me.”

I frowned at her absurdity.

But the moment I saw her expression, I understood her intentions.

Narrowed eyes and an inverted smile.

Her expression clearly carried mockery.

“…Ah, I see. Understood.”

Impressive.

The Saintess certainly knew how to twist things to her advantage.

She likely thought that if she said nothing at all, she wouldn’t get slapped.

There was technically truth to that. If there was nothing to hold against her, my discipline would lose its justification.

“…This is going to be fun.”

Muttering to myself, I turned away.

In one corner of the training ground were practice weapons lined up. I picked out two wooden swords that looked the most ordinary.

I almost grabbed a steel-tipped one but thought it was too much and set it aside.

“Saintess.”

“….”

Still no answer from Ophelia.

I slowly approached her and presented her with one of the wooden swords. Ophelia tilted her head up at me, as if to question why I was giving this to her.

“What else could it be? Obviously, it’s for training. If you join the hero party, you’ll inevitably face seasoned soldiers from the Demon King’s Army. This is training so you can hold your own as a proper party member rather than being a mere glutton.”

Once Ophelia took the wooden sword, I positioned myself opposite her.

Overthinking wouldn’t help.

As long as I could label it as training, I could hit her without any consequences.

Whether she wanted to embrace her vow of silence didn’t matter. This was training, not discipline.

“Now, take your sword. I’ll go first.”

“Wha, what?!”

In front of a flustered Ophelia, I angled the sword and assumed my stance.

“Alright, let’s begin training.”

With that said, I lunged forward and swung my wooden sword at her.

Having never held a sword before today, Ophelia neither contemplated dodging nor parrying.

Thwack!

With a clear sound, the wooden sword landed squarely on Ophelia’s crown.