Chapter 2: False Saint(2)

The underground corridor was silent, thanks to the guards who’d all fled.
There, alone, I recalled the Saintess from my memories.

She was a transcendent being, difficult to handle even in my past life.
Countless imperial heroes were brainwashed and turned against us.

Allies I relied on one day would swing their swords at me the next, driven mad.

Still, I gained valuable information from facing her.
Anje was a fallen noble’s daughter, her parents executed as traitors.

Sent to the Holy See’s underground, she endured brutal experiments.
The only respite in her torment was reading the scriptures.

In that dark basement, she read the holy book thousands of times.
That’s likely when she began believing she was the Saintess.

Anje was especially obsessed with the “Prophet” from the scriptures.
A steadfast man who, guided by divine revelation, abandoned his post as Knight Commander.

He met the Saintess, worked to save the masses, and ultimately clashed with the kingdom.

Years of protests and suppressions followed.
When the people’s morale waned, the Saintess asked the Prophet to stab her.

Her sacrifice awakened the masses.

As the kingdom fell, the Saintess met a glorious end.
The Prophet, left alone, built a new era on the ruins.

On the surface, it’s a perfect tale of toppling a corrupt nation.
But it was a fake scripture, crafted by the Holy See to control her.

If she incited the masses to destroy the empire, the Holy See could easily seize its foundation.

Thus, the Saintess, who sparked a revolution alone, met her death by my hand.
Not by the Prophet’s, but by the Swordmaster she despised.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t sad.
She thanked me, saying her death mirrored the scriptures.

Until her final moment, she never escaped the Holy See’s grasp.

Creak—

The cell door opened.
A single beam of sunlight fell from the ceiling, illuminating a woman seated below.

The glasses blurred her face.
Still, her white hair and red velvet dress were faintly visible.

Her sensual aura marked her as someone with an unmatched appearance.

“You’re not one of the usual visitors.”
“I’m Warden Derek. I’ll be conducting your interview today.”

A delicate hand brushed her bangs aside.
Then, turbid red eyes, almost inhuman, came into view.

“I can’t quite see your face.”
“I can’t see yours either. Let’s talk from this distance.”

Her lips, as red as her dress, curled upward.

“Fine. What’s your business?”
“You’re here for your crimes, so why keep harassing my guards?”

“I haven’t harassed them. I only reminded them of their sins.”
“If you’re not going to fix it, don’t meddle.”

As I spoke bluntly, her pale face tilted.
Most men would fall for her beauty instantly.
A new type of human must seem intriguing to her.

“I have the power to make everyone happy.”
“Power? It’s just mental magic and spirit assistance, isn’t it?”

I thought piercing her essence would rattle her.
But, as one of the great calamities, Anje remained unfazed.

“You have sharper eyes than your scoundrel reputation suggests.”

I thought I was the only one with intel on her, but Anje already knew about me.
Likely from a brainwashed guard.

“But what does it matter what power I use?”

The Saintess rose slowly.
She spread her palms toward the warm sunlight, savoring the faint heat.

“As long as it saves the suffering masses, isn’t that enough?”
“Six guards went mad or quit because of you. How is that salvation?”

“They realized their sins and offered themselves to God. I’ll lead the survivors to repentance soon.”
“By killing them all?”

Anje pointed upward with her finger.

“Those who exploit others for greed. Those who sow discord among the masses.”

Her unfocused red eyes stared straight at me.
Despite the twenty paces between us, her gaze was precise.

“When they’re gone, the world will naturally find peace.”

Heroes swayed by her sophistry were effortlessly brainwashed.
But…
I’m neither a hero nor a revolutionary.

“No matter how pretty your face is, your nonsense kills any charm.”

As a corrupt noble who loves warmth and a full belly, I scoffed.

“Not all in power are bad. The world progresses when capable people lead.”
“The criteria for choosing leaders are corrupt, so I stepped in.”

No matter how coldly I spoke, her voice remained unshaken.
It was almost nurturing, like a kindergarten teacher’s.

“The empire’s elites don’t give the masses a chance to shine. They hire sycophants who pay bribes, and those sycophants exploit the people to recoup their costs.”

The Saintess tapped a pebble by the window.
Like kicking away a ladder.

“They all deserve to vanish. A new, carefully chosen group will rule the new era.”
“Your chosen people?”

Anje gave a faint smile.
But it wasn’t innocent.
It was the forced smile of someone who’d known despair.

“At least I, who hear God’s word, am better than corrupt elites.”
“That’s your delusion. Your standards aren’t exactly just either.”

I stepped closer.
With each step, her face grew clearer through the lenses.

“Take the guards you recently punished as an example.”
“Knights who massacred civilians from another nation.”

“Right. But they regretted their bloodshed and disobeyed orders afterward.”
“That level of remorse doesn’t erase their sins.”

I quietly surveyed the grim prison surroundings.
The place where demoted guards, punished for defying orders, had stayed.

“Sure, it’s impossible. But can’t you give them a chance to atone?”

I pulled out the guard roster.
It detailed why they were demoted here.

“By refusing to slaughter civilians, they created an unspoken rule in the military banning such acts.”

They boldly defied their lord’s commands.
That made them a nuisance, so they were sent here.

“They were mere soldiers, but their courage saved hundreds of innocent lives.”

I glanced at the meal tray the guards had left.
Anje, likely starving for days, hadn’t touched the food.

“Why not give them a chance?”

Thanks to the cold cell, I picked up an untouched apple.
Its ripe flesh matched her eyes and dress.

“You don’t have to bear everything alone.”

The Saintess, unmoved by my words until now, slowly blinked.

“Are you… worried about me?”
“Yes. The brainwashing magic you’re using—it’s eating away at your life force.”

In my past life, when I assassinated Anje, her body was frail.
Killing her felt almost hollow.

“I’ll help you. To bring the just world you want.”

Thanks to my Swordmaster instincts, I could faintly see it.
Despite her agony, she kept her brainwashing magic active.

“…”

The Saintess rose slowly.
Her red velvet dress swayed lightly, accentuating her alluring figure.

“A corrupt noble like you, helping me…?”

As Anje took a step forward, she closed the distance with startling speed.

“I don’t trust the words of people who only talk.”

With a haughty gesture, she lifted the glasses from my face.
Her features came into sharp focus.

Flawless skin and large, beautiful red eyes.

“I’ll see for myself. Your filthy inner self.”

The white-haired woman gently caressed my cheek.
Though two years younger, her touch felt as warm as a mother’s embrace.

Most men would melt under this beauty and warmth.
But I already know.

This ecstasy is all high-level mental magic.

“Do as you wish.”

I didn’t tremble with fear.
Instead, I pulled her slender waist closer.

Close enough to hear each other’s breaths.

“My resolve to protect this empire is genuine.”

Surprised by my boldness, Anje’s red eyes widened.
Then.

Everything in her vision shifted.
Into the memories of Derek Minster’s childhood.

Being ostracized at the academy for his corrupt noble lineage.
Getting beaten nearly to death by a commoner in a tavern brawl.

[As expected, a pathetic life, just like the rumors.]

Recent memories showed him buying the warden position.
But not for personal gain—rather, a vow to serve diligently.

[Maybe he’s grown up a bit with age.]

Anje smirked, as if watching an insect’s antics.
But.

She soon realized his memories went deeper.

The Saintess gripped the sealing necklace around her throat.
Her radiant white hair shook as she forcibly unleashed powerful magic.

[This boy… not just an ordinary noble?]

If he were a mere scoundrel, she wouldn’t have dug this far.
But his boldness in facing her, despite the fallen guards, piqued her interest.

[It’s been a while since something caught my attention.]

Her mental magic barely lifted the dark veil.
Then, she arrived in the unstable memories of this troubled man.

*

“Raaaagh—!”

An enraged crowd toppled the emperor’s statue.
They smashed everything, furious at the sight of a woman collapsed in the square.

Anje knew who she was.
And the man holding her, looking down with love and hate.

[That’s… me?]

In the memory, her face looked serene.
Like a Saintess who’d achieved everything and ascended.

“Thanks to you, I accomplished my goal. Thank you, Derek.”

Derek—the new warden she’d just met.
A man determined to serve faithfully as warden.

And his actions…
They mirrored the Prophet she idolized and yearned for.

By killing her, the Saintess, he completed the empire’s downfall.
Everything matched the divine record.

[Could it be…]

Her most painful memory was her own death.
Realizing this, Anje’s pale face flushed red.

[Is this boy the future Prophet?]

She covered her lips with her hand.
Despite her transcendent magic, she couldn’t hide her excitement.
The vision was unstable, forced, but the ecstatic scene starred her and him.