Chapter 2: The Saintess’s Stand
The Coachman’s Fear
The coachman was still trembling with fear.
“What… what should we do…?”
“Pray.”
‘Hey, gods, you listening?’
I spoke firmly.
Unable to contain his doubts, the coachman shouted back.
“Pray? What’s that gonna change in this situation!”
“Be quiet.”
‘Shut it.’
A Pious Gesture
I knelt piously on the wagon, clasping my hands together.
Kneeling is the most powerful expression of submission across all times and cultures, and clasping hands is a posture only shown by those who earnestly desire something.
This stance, whether in the original world or the world of this novel, is the basic posture of one who seeks the gods.
“The gods are watching over us.”
‘Are you listening? You asleep?!’
The God’s Response
Finally, one of them responded.
[The God of Hunting answers your call.]
The gods who usually jested with useless banter were gone now.
Being summoned through prayer makes this, technically, a formal meeting between a god and a saintess.
Even if you joke around with a friend in a group chat, you wouldn’t act the same in a formal setting, right?
If casual banter was like a group chat, this was the equivalent of a work chat.
Even a god who usually spouts nonsense would, in this moment, display the dignity befitting their authority.
…Of course, once this situation is over, they’ll probably go back to their silly chatter.
“From your radiant throne, descend to the lowliest place, and have mercy on your servant. Look upon this sinful band that has strayed from your embrace.”
‘Save us, damn it!’
[The God of Hunting grants you the Power of the First Arrow.]
The Gacha of the Gods
Not bad.
For reference, the powers granted by the gods were random.
The god who answers is random, and the power bestowed is random.
Those crazy, self-proclaimed gods stuffed a gacha system into this novel.
The problem is, this feature wasn’t even mentioned in the original novel—it was added just for me.
They said it’s adjusted to the situation, so I accepted it, but honestly, isn’t this a ridiculously forced setup?
Still, when the perfect power comes at just the right moment like this, it feels pretty damn good.
That’s gacha for you.
The God of Hunting
In my memory, the God of Hunting was a guy who wrote hunter stories.
Maybe he died as a soldier who couldn’t shoot a bow in his past life, because in every novel he wrote, the protagonist’s weapon was a bow, the final boss’s weapon was a bow, even the heroine’s weapon was a bow.
Even The Ultimate Weapon Bow didn’t go this hard on bows.
Maybe because he’s such a bow fanatic, even after becoming a god, he’s granted similar powers a few times. I remember when I was late to a gathering and called him through prayer—that was a spectacle.
“Please look upon your pitiful servant and let all things be accomplished in time.”
‘I’m late, I’m screwed, save me~!’
[The God of Hunting grants you the Power of the Swift Arrow.]
That day, I learned that “swift arrow” literally meant an arrow shot at lightning speed.
I flew so fast my forehead TradingView was practically glowing, arriving at the chapel entrance where Bishop Dominic was waiting, laughing heartily. That memory’s still vivid.
Frustration with Dominic
Thinking of Bishop Dominic makes me mad again.
If he’d sent an escort as planned, we wouldn’t be in this crisis.
“Saintess! They’re almost upon us!”
“Food! Women! It’s all ours!”
I don’t know if becoming a bandit lowers your intelligence or if only idiots become bandits, but judging by their talk, at least one of those is definitely true.
The Arrow of Wrath
“Arrow, sing of the gods’ wrath.”
‘Take that, you bandit bastards~. Heh.’
I stood up and looked at the bandits trailing us.
Only about 20-30 meters away?
Close enough to reach us if they wanted.
Which means the chances of my arrow missing are pretty low.
I stretched my left arm into the air.
Then I drew my right arm back, bringing it to my lips.
As if pulling a bowstring.
Seeing my arm waving in the air, the bandits burst into laughter.
“Hey, is that girl crazy?”
“Who cares, as long as she’s tasty, right?”
“You got a point! Hahaha!”
“Hahahaha!”
Those bastards. Living the good life, huh?
Clueless that their heads are about to roll.
The Halo’s Light
As I fully drew the imaginary bowstring, I felt a bright light shining behind me.
A halo had manifested.
Its color was pale green—the color symbolizing the God of Hunting.
Only then did the bandits realize something was off.
But it was too late.
The First Arrow, released from my hand, screamed through the air toward them.
Shwiiiiing—!!
“Arghhh!”
“Deputy!”
In an instant, the arrow pierced through the bandit group.
Two of them collapsed, falling off their horses.
A Desperate Chase
Six left.
A tricky number.
The luck of hitting two with one shot wouldn’t come again easily.
Plus, they wouldn’t let their guard down now and would close the distance.
A quick glance showed them charging with red faces, glaring like they’d devour us.
Without looking back, I shouted to the coachman.
“We need to widen the gap! Drive as fast as you can!”
‘F*cking floor it, we’re screwed~!’
“Even if you say that, this is as fast as it goes!”
We’re done for.
They were already close enough to touch if they reached out.
I’d have to fire one more shot and think after.
Shwiiiiing—!!
Neiiiigh!
The wagon jolted, and my arrow hit an innocent horse instead.
Still, it caused one of the bandits to fall behind, which was a small mercy.
Now they were practically on top of us.
I judged there wasn’t even time to fire another arrow.
Guess I have no choice but to pull out my trusty weapon…
The Bandits’ Ambition
Meanwhile, despite losing three of their group, the bandits were still brimming with confidence.
Sure, some fell to a mysterious attack, but they could always recruit more.
Plus, with the deputy dead, once this raid was over and the spoils divided, someone would surely take his place.
And all four, except the leader, thought they were the best fit for the role.
What does it take to become deputy?
Naturally, you need to impress the leader.
With that in mind, Boris urged his horse forward.
“Leader! Let me take a crack at that girl!”
“Oho, Boris! Alright, give it a go! If you catch her, you get second dibs!”
The leader’s response was as good as naming Boris the deputy.
This small bandit group had an unspoken rule: the leader and deputy always got first pick.
Whether it was delicious food, rare items, or women, it didn’t matter.
Hearing the leader’s words, Boris spurred his horse even faster.
The other three could only curse their own slowness.
Boris’s Pursuit
She couldn’t be more than fifteen, maybe not even that.
Barely 160 cm tall, with a so-so figure—judging by her body alone, the girl on the wagon wasn’t Boris’s type.
But her face. That sharp, alluring face.
Those feisty girls always made the best sounds when tamed.
Boris didn’t know fancy words like statistics, but experience taught him that much.
The wagon was only three meters away.
Boris swung the axe he’d looted from a merchant last time as he closed in.
“Hyah—! I’m already looking forward to tonight, little girl. What kind of sounds will you make!?”
The girl didn’t respond.
She just knelt on one knee on the wagon, her right hand touching the floor.
What’s this? A sign of submission?
Boris didn’t think too hard about it.
Women were just something to use once and be done with.
It was a pity she seemed to give up resistance so soon, but that had its own charm.
‘I’ll just scare her a bit.’
The Final Blow
With that thought, Boris approached the left side of the wagon, raising his axe.
Just as he was about to swing, the girl spoke.
“You who have strayed from the gods’ embrace.”
‘Bastard.’
“What?”
She continued, ignoring him.
“Even if your body is buried in the dust of the world, far from the land of blessings and glory, the merciful gods do not forget you.”
‘You’re screwed, repeat after me.’
“What’re you blabbering about?”
“Yet, I can guide you to shed the sins of the mortal world and return to their embrace in your primal form—a blessing and a great honor.”
‘Five, four, three, two, one.’
Boris was tired of listening to her incomprehensible nonsense when the leader shouted from behind.
“What’re you doing, Boris! Finish it!”
“Yes, yes!”
This was a rare opportunity.
One that might not come again if the deputy hadn’t died.
Some might scoff at making a fuss over being deputy of a mere bandit group.
But to Boris, this little band was his entire world.
Finally, he swung his axe.
Clang!
Boris’s body tilted backward.
His mind couldn’t process what had happened.
He barely regained his balance after nearly falling, and only then did he see it.
The heavy mace in the girl’s hand.
“May you convey my well-being to the gods.”
‘Die.’
The last thing Boris saw was that mace swinging toward him.
His body fell limply from the horse.