Taming the Evil Saintess

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Emily Barried is fundamentally an optimistic person. Rather than saying she is optimistic, it might be more accurate to say she does not tend to think pessimistically. Just a few days ago, when she was invited to the royal palace, her imagination was filled with a flutter of blooming flowers.

She received an invitation from the royalty! What could be their intention? As a companion of the hero who rescued the Ice Palace, the Cathedral of the Saint, and the Eastern Coast, Emily thought she would be treated appropriately. That was why she had hounded the tailor in Eastern Port to buy an expensive dress.

“Hmmm… something feels strange.”

However, the atmosphere of the banquet hall she arrived at with high hopes was different from what she imagined. The noble cuisine she had anticipated was nowhere to be found. The food was delicious, but that wasn’t the main concern.

The banquet hall felt as if it were a bomb about to explode. A strange sense of unease lingered in the air. You could see the fear etched on people’s faces.

Emily, not one to miss such things, was not oblivious despite her optimism.

So, she approached her master, Eldarian Barried. At that moment, Eldarian was holding a handkerchief that was drenched in sweat.

“Master, is something wrong?”

“Ah, Emily… it’s nothing to worry about. No need to concern yourself.”

“Hmm. Why are you acting this way again?”

Emily, who had been under Eldarian’s tutelage, knew well enough that her master was more timid than his title suggested. He would often look at her with those anxious eyes.

She had planned to inquire about the situation from Elliot, but the moment Emily turned her head, he had vanished somewhere.

Well, given how elusive he was, that was to be expected.

Feeling a strange sense of alienation, Emily took a dessert from the raised platform and brought it to her mouth. As she savored the food for a moment, she felt something peculiar. Possessing innate magical talent through the Mark, she could sense it. Mana was colliding nearby.

This was not ordinary.

“…”

This was not a delusion.

She prioritized her senses over rational deductions.

Turning her body, she approached Eldarian again.

“Master, did you feel that?”

“Y-Yes. It seems the mages are training.”

“That can’t be right. How many magicians are there in the palace? Moreover, this feels more like a knight’s sword energy than a mage’s mana.”

“…”

Reluctantly, Eldarian nodded.

Something was clearly happening. Emily forced him to move towards the exit of the banquet hall.

However, just as they approached the exit, a massive double door slammed shut with a loud thud.

“…Huh?”

The moment Emily let out a bewildered sound, the curtains of the banquet hall fell all at once, and the chandelier dropped with a loud crash. A thunderous noise filled the room, plunging the surroundings into darkness.

The sound of metal. And the rustling of fabric. Screams began to echo everywhere. A sharp scent tickled her nose. It couldn’t possibly be the aroma of the champagne she had drunk earlier. It was a stench—blood.

There could be only one possibility.

An ambush.

Determined, Emily illuminated her surroundings with magic.

“…Ugh.”

Before long, a dozen assassins had surrounded Emily.

Looking back at Eldarian, he had raised his staff, his expression serious.

“Emily.”

“Yes?”

“Do not stray from my side.”

Seeing her resolute master, Emily frowned. Then she took out the artifact and magic book, Maleficarum, from her possession.

“Master, you shouldn’t stray from my side either.”

“…”

“Because my achievements so far might exceed your expectations.”

With an audacious face, Eldarian Barried couldn’t help but smile wryly.

*

The clash of swords echoed. The wind pressure whipped across my face. This moment in a duel always heightened the thrill.

However, if the opponent was not a demon but an ordinary human, and not just any human but one from Earth, the situation was different.

Possessor Morgan swung his sword repeatedly, and I could only deflect it by shifting the angle of the Holy Sword. As sword energies clashed, markings lined the walls.

“Are you only going to defend?”

“Yes. For now.”

“How foolish!”

Morgan hoped to tire himself out, but it seemed his skill was surpassing my expectations.

Using sword energy was impressive, and he didn’t seem to lose strength even while clashing swords with me. Possessors wielding swords were rare. The only names that would come to mind were Oksana and Ruin. Notably, none of them had used sword energy, making Morgan’s capabilities astounding to me.

“Die!”

Morgan swung with clear intent to kill. I raised my sword high. His unsteady frame lost balance.

“Did you think you could match me with just that?”

Of course, he was outstanding. The ability to wield sword energy meant he had reached the level of a Swordmaster, a title given to only a handful within the empire. Like me, Morgan’s possessed body must have also been an exceptional one.

Yet, that was where it stopped. Even sword-wielding Cathedral Knights would struggle against me, so it struck me as peculiar that this individual attempted to face me alone. Did he have some unshakeable confidence?

Probably a numbers game. Then again, the tide of battle seemed to already be turning in our favor.

Bang!

I heard a sound behind me. Cecilia and Erwin were facing off against other possessors. At the same time, the Imperial Guards who joined mid-battle were standing firm as the shield of the battlefield.

“Are you not going to surrender? I really don’t want to kill you. Other possessors feel the same.”

“What? Surrender?”

Morgan sneered at my words.

“Are you serious? You know Oksana, don’t you? She has already joined me…”

“Shut up! You don’t know my situation!”

Clang. I deflected his blade. Meeting his burning gaze, I continued.

“I don’t not know. If it’s the Demon King’s Mark, then I’ve prepared a solution for that…”

“It’s not that simple!”

Morgan charged at me. He moved faster than before. Bursting into my space, he swung his sword in a deadly arc. This was an angle I couldn’t dodge. I had no choice but to lift my knee and drive it into his chest.

“Ugh!”

Vomiting a mix of saliva and stomach acid, Morgan dropped down.

I hoped he would break, but he used his sword as a walking stick and stood up. Wiping the vomit from his mouth, he glared at me.

“You bastard.”

“I don’t understand why you’re blaming me. After all, we’re in the same boat.”

“Same boat? That’s ridiculous.”

Morgan scoffed and shook his head. Then he tossed aside his glove.

Was he going to surrender? But the moment I saw the distinct Mark engraved on his hand, my eyes widened. And I was further shocked when I noticed the bright red seal stamped on his other palm.

“Do you actually think this is the same situation? I have no freedom in my life!”

Light began to shine on both of his palms.

In the next moment, he stood right before me.

His power, speed, and ferocity were all vastly different from before. I raised my sword hurriedly to defend, but it was me who was sent flying back. Without a doubt, that was the effect of the Mark.

Simultaneously, it was as if Morgan unleashing the Mark was a signal; a torrent of mana surged around us. The possessors all activated their Marks at once.

“Hey, kid! This is…!”

Erwin shouted, shaking off a possessor coming towards him. She gazed with shock at the gold-glowing Marks.

“Be careful. They’ve transplanted the Marks. The Marks of the former hero.”

“…Is that even possible?”

“Are you not seeing this?”

Even Cecilia was flustered, and the expressions of the Cathedral Knights glancing at the Marks were even more bewildered.

Such is the level of recognition they held.

The Mark was a gift from God; to manipulate and replicate such gifts was simply beyond anyone’s imagination. It was a sacrilege too monstrous to even articulate.

Adelheit was risking such dangers to transplant Marks, intending to breed the strongest army.

There had to be a reason it was possible. The Archmage Eldarian had only handed over the research data he and his students had achieved to Adelheit. She wouldn’t be able to replicate the Marks of the former hero by herself. There must be a supporter behind her. I could easily guess who that person was without much thought.

“The Hell Duke, huh.”

“Ha! You catch on quickly!”

With a fierce momentum, Morgan charged at me.

The Mark rooted in his right hand glowed a dark crimson. I didn’t know what effect it would have, but it was likely some form of coercive restraint.

If it was anything like the Dark Mage Jake from Nua Diel, that mark could explode at once, possibly obliterating the imperial palace entirely.

“There’s no way out.”

“Now you understand? In the end, we are fated to kill or be killed!”

Morgan swung his sword. I blocked it while scrutinizing his face, which was soaked with cold sweat. Normally, I would prefer to spare him, but the situation left no room for it.

“Forgive me. The price for your sins will be paid by the Demon King and that princess.”

With my voice low, I unleashed my sword power.

The surroundings brightened.