The saintess, who had been facing the Demon Lord with courage just moments before, was now nowhere to be seen. Even the Demon Lord, who was also the president, looked perplexed and sought my help with his gaze.
“What is this? Why is this happening? Why are the people in this world so kind?! It makes me feel like an idiot for being wary, thinking there must be a hidden motive. My life has been so comfortable since arriving here! I thought they would stop my prayers, but they calmly provided an altar for me. I thought I would be stripped of my purity, but women attend to me during bath times! I even thought the meals would be meager, but that wasn’t the case either!”
The saintess collapsed to her knees, her hands flat on the floor, despairing in a different direction entirely.
“Were you giving her such good treatment?” Himik asked the president, assuming that the treatment was akin to that given to royalty.
However.
“Hmm, I’m pretty sure we only gave her the standard treatment for a high-ranking prisoner,” the president replied, tilting his head as if he had no memory of anything unusual.
Looking around the room, it was a private room, about six tatami mats in size. There were no windows, but a magic tool provided light. The bed was covered with clean sheets, and on the desk was a simple, altar-like object. There was also a closet, presumably containing spare clothes. The commotion from earlier likely came from there. This room, with its simplicity that might make some feel empty, was comfortable for Eshlee.
Looking at Eshlee’s wrists, there were signs of sealing magic, indicating she was properly restrained. Yet, she claimed to be comfortable. Finally, Eshlee’s emotions became unstable, showing signs of hitting the floor in her distress.
“Hey, Himik,” I said.
“What is it?”
“I always had the image that the followers of Isal were quite devout… ”
Seeing her like this, I quietly asked Himik a question. Frankly, would someone really be this upset just from a comfortable life? Devout followers often adhered to simple living and frugality. That was my image of the followers of the Sun God. Enthusiastic, to put it kindly; fanatical, to put it mildly. That was my impression of them, but Eshlee’s attitude was completely shattering it.
“Most followers are like that. They appreciate their daily sustenance and strive to live richly. However, there are definitely followers like what Giro is describing,” Himik replied in a similar tone, understanding the nuance of my word choice.
As we spoke quietly behind the president, he subtly communicated his desire to join the conversation, but that was not possible, so he had to endure.
“Right? Then why was she like that? I apologize for asking, but aren’t saintesses considered to be of a very high religious status?”
“In Isal’s religious hierarchy, a saintess is about the position of a section chief in a regular company.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Yes. Above them is the position of Great Saintess, equivalent to a department manager. Furthermore, it’s not based on merit but on bloodline. A saintess like her, a child of a concubine, cannot become a Great Saintess.”
“Ugh.”
I reconfirmed the standing and status of a saintess and thought, what a black company that sounds like. A capable section chief, suppressed by an incompetent relative who is a department manager, and forced to take on unreasonable work. I could easily imagine such a scene. I then noticed Eshlee, who had completely broken down and was now only sobbing. She made me feel a sense of guilt, as if I had made her cry even though I hadn’t intended to. A saintess who troubles the Demon Lord. In a way, Eshlee had accomplished something remarkable. I doubt that even past Demon Lords had ever caused her to feel guilty and perplexed. I couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards the startling facts of the Isal religion that had achieved this. Speaking of which, there was a fact that low-ranking members were made to investigate the abnormal behavior of monsters.
“Hey, Himik,” I said.
“What is it?”
“Could it be that troublesome tasks are all brushed aside with the phrase ‘divine trial’?”
“Ah, yes. When I was guiding the hero, that phrase was used to dismiss everything too. Think about it, Giro. I don’t believe that God, who lives by the principle of ‘I alone am honored,’ would give trivial trials to each and every human.”
“As Seraph Himik, your words carry considerable weight.”
And then, a doubt suddenly occurred to me, and I decided to ask about it. It was the common phrase used by religious figures: “It is a trial given by God.” If explained, it means, “This is a trial given to you by God for your growth.” In other words, this one phrase creates the equation that hardship equals growth. And the victims were the devout followers. Eshlee was one of them. I had met the god possessing Ishan once. I didn’t think he would say such pious things constantly. While I believed God could observe all the inhabitants of the world, I didn’t think he would go to such troublesome lengths.
“So, if that’s the case, isn’t the phrase ‘divine trial’ used in sermons essentially a scam?”
“To put it bluntly, yes. It’s simply a convenient phrase for the country to use repeatedly. The gods are not harmed by it, and since believers are increasing, they tacitly approve. Therefore, there are endless swindlers who use this phrase to enrich themselves. Whether they are burdening guiltless citizens or taking advantage of innocent women, the ‘divine trial’ acts as a perfect excuse.”
“What a harsh reality. Is a black company still better? No, considering they disregard human rights and force labor, there’s not much difference.”
I didn’t want to realize this, but Eshlee’s cry from the depths of her soul made me aware of the reality.
“Ah, you two. Have you finished confirming the reality of the situation? Then, could you please help me think of a way to save the innocent saintess who is crying here?”
“Just extend your hand with a smile and give her an unreasonable request as usual.”
As we exchanged information, the president gave us a signal to do *something* about the situation. I suppose we had left her alone for too long.
“That’s quite harsh, Human King.”
“I was trained by someone, so why don’t you try to comfort her to get her to explain the situation, as it’s not progressing otherwise?”
“Hmm, if I stepped in here, I might be called the Demon Lord who took advantage of the saintess.”
“Isn’t that a bit late for that?”
“Yes, quite a few malicious rumors already surround me. Adding one more shouldn’t be a problem.”
And so, we had to move forward. You might think it’s foolish to be so leisurely in an emergency, but it’s not good to botch things up by rushing. One must always maintain a sense of calm.
“Either way, could you please look up? Even I don’t have a hobby of tormenting defenseless women.”
“…Forgive me, I lost my composure.”
“No, it’s fine. Your position is worthy of sympathy.”
The saintess, who is sympathized with by the Demon Lord. I thought to myself, but didn’t voice it. She rubbed her eyes, wiped away her tears, and stood up. She really seemed to have gone through a lot.
“Thank you. Now, let me get back to the topic. May I interpret your previous offer as wanting to join the Demon Lord’s Army?”
“Yes.”
“Coming under me means abandoning your faith. I don’t think you have that resolve, considering you prepared an altar?”
Despite the hardship she faced, the president spoke without hesitation, stating that it would be difficult to accept her as a subordinate, and implicitly hinting at a mercenary contract based on mutual benefit.
“…Then, please witness my resolve.”
However, Eshlee, as if she had foreseen such a question, turned her back to the president, picked up the disguised altar she had prepared on the desk, swung it high above her head, and smashed it onto the ground without hesitation.
“Are you sure? I can still pretend I didn’t see it if you change your mind.”
“It’s unnecessary.”
“…Hmm, if you don’t mind, may I ask the reason behind that resolve? In my opinion, you don’t seem like the type of person who would abandon what you’ve believed in solely due to unfair treatment towards yourself.”
“…Did you see through me? What I said earlier was from my heart.”
“I’m sure it was.”
The saintess shattered the altar, which bore the crest of the Sun God. This could be considered a clear act of rebellion. Whether God would acknowledge it was uncertain, but what was done could not be undone. Spilt milk cannot be gathered. Spat words cannot be taken back. The president inquired about the reason for this act of resolve. For some, simply being subjected to injustice or being neglected might be enough. However, the president sensed there was more to it.
“At that time, God intended to use something on Arben and Mages. I learned of it.”
“Godfire.”
“Yes. I heard it could grant power capable of confronting even the Demon Lord, albeit temporarily.”
“That’s not wrong. However, the price is the user’s soul. It doesn’t even allow for reincarnation. It’s a technique of augmenting power temporarily through extreme combustion, literally erasing one’s existence. It’s a technique only permitted by God, granting immense power in exchange for one’s very being.”
Eshlee recounted the reasons bit by bit. However, this was a future I had tried to prevent. It was the future shown to me by Valse-san, where Yukiera was kidnapped, and the power used then. Originally, Eshlee shouldn’t have known about this future. If she was confined in this prison, there should be no way for her to know. Where on earth?
“Who told you that?”
The president seemed to have the same question, and he posed it to her.
“God himself.”
And she seemed to understand the flow of the question, answering without hesitation.
“!”
Himik instinctively assumed a defensive stance and moved to apprehend Eshlee, but I stopped his movements with my hand. Himik questioned me with his eyes, but seeing that the president remained still, I knew my action was correct.
“…Hmm, I prepared the altar, but I didn’t expect it to be able to convey its will to this world.”
The president murmured, revealing the correctness of my action.
“Quite an interesting outcome. In some cases, this facility could have turned into a sea of flames. Where God miscalculated was in overestimating his believers and his own influence.”
The president, with a smile, initially perplexed by Eshlee’s attitude, now accepted the outcome with satisfaction as it unfolded.
“Uh, um…”
“Ah, my apologies. In conclusion, there’s no problem. I originally intended for you to hesitate, weighing your faith in God against my offer, but I was surprised that you leaned so heavily towards me.”
The president chuckled, genuinely amused and in high spirits. The fact that God had lost credibility must have been the biggest gain for the president. Eshlee could only offer a vague “Haa” in response, unable to keep up with the president’s explanation of her confusion. I, too, watched with suspicion, wondering when I had been manipulated by the president. No, for the president, working behind the scenes was second nature. I had to accept this as another one of his schemes.
“Well, the conversation has gone off track. Now that we have obtained the saintess’s power, let us begin our operation, everyone.”
I could only nod at the president’s command.
Today’s word: Empathy is easier to feel in a negative direction.
Thank you for your continued feedback and for pointing out any typos. If you find this interesting, please leave reviews, ratings, bookmarks, etc. I am also currently serializing another work: Pandora Pandemic Panic. The Pandora’s Box has been opened again, but we are fighting back with various things in a secret base!! I would appreciate it if you also give that a try!!
