The Holy Empire, Ieros.

It was the only theocratic nation and held the title of being equal to the Empire of the Sun, Eresteb.

The prestige of the Holy Empire Ieros was immensely great. It was an empire born based on religion and followed the goddess known as the Primordial God.

Its status could not possibly be low.

That was why the Trellynian Kingdom was in a state of emergency. If it was merely a delegation, it could be understood. But a saintess accompanied the delegation? This was not a matter that could be easily overlooked.

Resveligo, wearing a stiff smile, headed to the room where the saintess was being hosted. With each step he took, he felt as though his expression might freeze from tension, but he managed to hold it together.

And understandably so.

She was the saintess of the Holy Empire.

A figure that could be considered the highest authority of the empire. Considering that she was chosen directly by the gods, her position was even stronger than the pope's. Moreover, thinking about the fact that this empire was a nation founded on religion, a single word from the saintess could ignite a war.

And now, the Trellynian Kingdom had suddenly established a religion. It was enough to provoke Ieros, the first theocracy.

"I must prevent a war at all costs..."

The most terrifying thing was that they didn’t know the reason why Ieros sent the saintess.

The saintess was an incredibly noble figure. Even within Ieros, she was a being that everyone revered and was famous for rarely showing herself outside.

If such a saintess were to come here and something went wrong?

A war would break out immediately.

Would they have sent such a saintess without any reason?

It meant it was a matter serious enough for the saintess to personally step in.

Of course, this had all started as a lighthearted whim for the saintess, but Resveligo had no way of knowing that.

Finally, the door to the reception room opened.

"Greetings. I am Resveligo Trellynia, the king of the Trellynian Kingdom."

"Pleased to meet you. I am Saintess Beliar Ieros."

His first impression of the saintess was that she was noble. Her hair was as white as the most expensive silver woven into fine threads, and her skin, which seemed to have never been touched by the sun, exuded a mysterious aura.

And most notably, her eyes, shining with a golden light.

Within those eyes was an emblem, symbolizing the sun and the goddess.

"The stigmata of the goddess..."

Unlike the scores of warriors blessed by the goddess, the stigmata were for one person alone. Having such a mark was the most special stigmata that could elevate someone to the highest position in the Holy Empire.

The king swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak.

"It is an honor to meet you. I hope your journey to our remote kingdom was not too arduous."

"Remote, you say? If this is remote, then there are no places that aren’t in this world."

The saintess laughed lightly.

Her laughter was imbued with grace, which made Resveligo tremble with fear.

He couldn't tell what words might follow that smile.

Nor could he discern whether she was friendly or not.

Perhaps it was the infinitely transparent expression of the saintess, but he felt as though he couldn't read any emotions at all.

"May I ask the reason for your visit to our kingdom?"

"Oh, of course. And you can dispense with the formalities. These formal settings make me more uncomfortable."

The saintess seemed to sense the king's burden and smiled softly.

Resveligo slightly relaxed, though he remained cautious.

He still had not heard the reason for the saintess’s visit.

"The reason for my visit to the Trellynian Kingdom is simple."

"And what might that be?"

"Jörmungandr... The entity worshipped as a god in your kingdom, correct?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"I came to determine if Jörmungandr is truly worthy of being called a god."

As expected, it was related to Jörmungandr.

The king nodded, though he was not particularly worried by her words.

He didn’t know how she intended to verify Jörmungandr’s divinity, but at least to him, Jörmungandr was the closest thing to a god he had ever witnessed.

An idea came to the king, prompting him to speak.

"What would happen if it is determined that Jörmungandr is not a divine being?"

"Hmm? Well... You could stop worshipping Jörmungandr..."

Or, we might go to war.

"One of the two, I suppose?"

"..."

The saintess smiled softly.

The saintess left the reception room.

Following her closely, the cardinal finally spoke.

"Are you really intending to start a war?"

"Who knows... We shall see."

"We are prepared for it."

Beliar looked back at the cardinal standing behind her.

It seemed that if she gave the word, they were prepared to go to war. The thought made her shudder.

'Honestly, why are there so many rules?'

Don't act rashly.

Don't laugh frivolously.

Don’t interact with others.

From the moment she was born as a saintess, the vast well known as the Holy Empire sought only to bind her.

Did this mean that a saintess was that valuable?

On the surface, it seemed as if they were granting her absolute power as a saintess, but in reality, it was the opposite.

They used that power as a pretext to thoroughly control the saintess.

It was the same even now. The implications of going to war were not hers.

She was merely reciting the manual of the Holy Empire, Ieros.

'Why on earth would they wage war over a god?'

If the pope had heard her say such a thing, he would have fainted with foam at the mouth.

In truth, Saintess Beliar didn't hold much reverence for the gods.

I mean, wouldn't you agree? Although the power granted to her allowed her to feel the presence of a divine being... there was nothing else the goddess had done for her.

In fact, she didn't particularly want to be a saintess.

Being a saintess was a role everyone else seemed to covet, but Beliar's dream was simply to build a cabin and live peacefully with someone she would marry someday.

She didn't want such a grandiose role.

The burden of being a saintess.

The countless gazes of people sent her way.

The expectations of those who seemed to view her as someone who had to accomplish something.

It was all too heavy.

For just one girl to bear, it felt as though she was being crushed under the weight.

Yet, even so, her abilities as a saintess kept her from collapsing.

"Cardinal, I need to rest for a while."

"Yes, call on us whenever you need."

After sending the cardinal away, she entered the guest room assigned to her and removed the cumbersome nun's habit that covered her body.

One by one, the clothes woven from white silk disappeared.

Eventually, she stood there in only her undergarments.

"......"

Her body was covered with countless scars.

So many scars that they were beyond counting.

The cause of those terrible wounds was none other than Saintess Beliar herself.

Beliar quietly gazed at her scars, then picked up a fountain pen from the desk.

The ink-stained tip gleamed sharply.

—Clang!

She smashed the pen against the desk and, as if accustomed to it, stabbed it into her own arm.

It was her own body.

She did it without hesitation, using all her strength.

Naturally, blood flowed from her arm, and a deep wound was created.

However, there was no change in the expression on the saintess's face.

"As I thought..."

Beliar roughly wiped away the wound with a handkerchief she had kept in her pocket, sighed, and lay down on the bed.

She had known that this would be the result.

And yet, the feeling of disappointment never became familiar.

"Why..."

Why did they choose me to be a saintess?

I never wanted to be a saintess.

I hate this burdensome role.

I'm afraid of the people’s gaze, and it feels overwhelming to lift the corners of my mouth and smile.

Does anyone know how terrifying and oppressive it is to always be conscious of every gesture and to always be under the watchful eye of the cardinal?

They probably don’t.

If the saintess were to stray even slightly from the 'correct' actions expected of a saintess...

In a dark basement.

She would be disciplined repeatedly, indoctrinated into believing her actions were wrong.

Recalling the 'discipline,' Beliar covered her mouth with instinctive disgust.

The Holy Empire was not the pure and spotless place people imagined it to be.

In fact, it was quite the opposite.

It was a fanatical cult that followed only the meanings contained within the 'rules' and the 'holy scriptures.'

That was why Beliar did not want to be a saintess.

While the oppressive nature of the Holy Empire that restricted her every action was a significant reason...

"Why did they choose me to be a saintess...?"

When she became a saintess, she had to give up her sense of touch.

She felt no pain from her wounds.

Was that all?

Whether she was lying in bed, standing up, or harming herself again, she could not tell.

Her sense of touch had completely disappeared the day she became a saintess.

That was why she harmed herself.

She hoped that if she inflicted enough pain on herself, she might one day feel even the slightest sensation.

Healing these scars was no problem, but that too was part of her self-harm.

She wished that the scars etched on her body would, when her senses returned, immediately signal their presence with sharp pain.

"I hate being a saintess..."

This was her desperate struggle,

Her minimal hope to live through another day.

Even though she had already felt endless despair and regret,

Nevertheless, she had to live for the future.

"……."

The saintess softly closed her eyes.

Imagining a world where, when she opened them again, everything that bound her had disappeared.