Of course, we still live in a society where freedom of religion is guaranteed.

If you’re American, you’re free to call them ‘full-time unpaid super servants’ without hesitation.

If you prefer to sound sophisticated, referring to them as ‘higher-dimensional energy beings’ is also perfectly fine.

But one piece of advice: don’t be an atheist.

They’re not even worth joking about anymore.

Excerpt from God is Not Great*

 

In the training room proudly maintained by Lord Howe Academy, Seti stood at the center of the white chamber, with both the walls and floor coated in mana metal, her eyes closed.

Since it was early morning, the training room was quiet. No one came, and no one disturbed her.

Seti enjoyed the tranquility. She savored the rare peace before opening her eyes and slowly raising the war hammer.

Though the war hammer provided by the academy was just a crude lump of metal, Seti didn’t mind.

Unless it was crafted by dwarves, war hammers were all the same. With no expectations, there were no disappointments. As long as it could withstand her swings without breaking, it was enough.

In that sense, the academy’s equipment was neither good nor bad. She swung the war hammer slowly, musing on the matter.

Her entire body strained as she swung the hammer with precise form, without using any mana.

From her heels to her trapezius muscles, every muscle endured the weight and recoil.

Only a few swings in, beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, but Seti gradually increased her speed.

Faster, heavier, harder.

Just as her muscles began screaming in protest, she activated her mana.

Fwoosh!

The war hammer, previously tracing a slow path, suddenly accelerated. Air split apart, and gusts of wind followed each swing.

Once, twice, three times… The hammer accelerated with each moment, moving like a storm, as unpredictable as thunder.

Amidst the whirlwind, the door to the training room burst open.

“Sis?”

Peeking through the door was a red-haired girl with amber-like yellow eyes that sparkled. As soon as Seti saw her, she stopped swinging the hammer.

The wind that had filled the room disappeared instantly. Seti, her hair slick with sweat, looked at her younger sister.

“Siri? What’s going on?”

Though her training had been interrupted, Seti showed no sign of displeasure as she greeted her sister.

Siri looked at her with a peculiar expression before pulling out her smartphone and approaching Seti.

“Sis, look at this news!”

“What is it?”

“It’s Cheon Yeomyeong, he’s on the news!”

“What? Really?”

Seti tossed the war hammer aside and snatched the smartphone from Siri. On the screen was a list of articles from prominent news outlets.

“North Manju Today - Casualties in the Hundreds.”
“Manju Base Falls: Cause Unknown, Possibly a Terrorist Organization?”
“Another Incident in Manju? Parliament Demands Extra Budget; Finance Ministry Hesitates.”
“Large-Scale Monster Invasion... Manju Residents in Fear.”

As she scrolled through the articles, a photo of Cheon Yeomyeong appeared. The headline read:

“Young Mercenary and Saintess, a Miraculous Battle.”

What? Saintess? What’s she doing in Manju?

Seti instinctively clicked on the article.

After reading only a few lines, Seti’s expression turned dark and menacing.

“Uh, Sis?”

Seti quickly moved to the next article. With each article she read, her grip on the phone tightened.

“Sis, that’s my phone...”

Siri looked at the smartphone and Seti’s face with a mix of anticipation and concern.

But her voice didn’t reach Seti, who was glaring at the screen as if she were about to shoot lasers from her eyes, reading one article after another about Yeomyeong and the Saintess.

The articles all followed a similar theme.

For some reason, the Saintess had personally gone to North Manju to aid in a battle, with two mercenaries helping her fight a dragon.

The details were vague, likely censored for military reasons, but the gossip media had a field day.

Some of them spun stories as if the Saintess and the young mercenary had met due to ‘fateful circumstances,’ with headlines so scandalous they would’ve made the religious community gasp.

One article, in particular, was featured prominently on a news portal, suggesting a romantic entanglement.

“The Saintess’s face blushed as she stood beside the young mercenary…”

Upon reading that, Seti knew it was false.

The Saintess always wore an invisibility cloak, making her practically a voyeur, and never showed her face to reporters.

Knowing and accepting, however, were two different things.

When she reached a passage describing ‘their hands secretly clasped together,’ Seti could no longer hold back.

Crunch.

The phone in her hand crumpled like an aluminum can. Siri shrieked.

“Sis!”

“Oh, uh…”

Seti came to her senses and started to apologize, but Siri, being a kind sister, patted her shoulder reassuringly, then smiled.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You’re just worried she’ll steal him again, right?”

“…Siri. What are you talking about, steal?”

Ignoring Seti’s confusion, Siri continued with a mischievous grin.

“What else? You’re afraid she’ll snatch him up, aren’t you? Is it that scary?”

“…Hey.”

“You’re all tense! Relax. Think rationally for a second. Do you think he’d end up with the Saintess?”

“End up with? What kind of…!”

Seti’s eyes flared as if her sister had hit a nerve. Siri, undaunted, waved her hands dismissively.

“Okay, okay, settle down. You always get worked up when the Saintess is mentioned.”

“…Not really?”

“Oh, really?”

Siri waggled her eyebrows and crossed her arms, amusement shining in her yellow eyes.

“Then, let’s make a bet. Today, let’s see if you can resist contacting him.”

“….”

“If you manage to go a whole day without texting him, I’ll forgive you for breaking my phone. Deal?”

Siri then slyly pulled out another phone—Seti’s secret burner phone, ready for contacting Yeomyeong.

“Hey! You…!”

Seti reached for it reflexively, but Siri deftly dodged her grasp, waving the phone around.

“What’ll it be?”

Judging by Siri’s smirk, she had probably anticipated this outcome even before entering the training room.

Seti looked at her sister with a defeated expression.

“Are you betting or not?”

Siri asked, but instead of answering, Seti snatched the phone away.

“Bet? Forget it!”

Leaving her giggling sister behind, Seti hurriedly typed a message.

Hello, Yeomyeong? This is Seti. I’m texting you because…

 

Yeomyeong opened his eyes to a stark white recovery room.

His body felt stiff, and as he lifted himself from the hard patient bed, the IV tube attached to his arm rattled.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Following the familiar voice, he turned his head and saw two hands floating next to him.

It was the Saintess, hidden behind her invisibility cloak.

She was slicing an apple with a knife, though it looked more like she was butchering it than peeling it.

Turning away from the unfortunate apple, Yeomyeong asked,

“…Where is this?”

“Manju Base Military Hospital.”

“….”

“You passed out during the interview, so they brought you straight here.”

As she spoke, memories of the previous night returned.

Not long after Kahal Magdu had left, they encountered a massive reinforcement team.

The reinforcements hadn’t treated them as survivors. Instead, they grilled the Saintess and Yeomyeong about what had happened in North Manju, nearly as if it were an interrogation.

They even threatened that if this was a wild goose chase, not even the Saintess would get off scot-free.

But the collapse of North Manju was undeniable. Upon confirming the grotesque bodies of soldiers and beastmen, the command finally released them.

That should have been the end… but the real problem came next.

The reporters, as the Saintess had warned, swarmed them, and the interrogation truly began.

These reporters were nothing like the respectful war correspondents Yeomyeong knew. Those had likely traveled north with the reinforcements.

No, these reporters brandished microphones and cameras under the guise of the public’s right to know.

“Why didn’t you attend the opening ceremony? Did you receive a prophecy that led you to North Manju?”
“What’s your relationship with the young mercenary?”
“What do the gods think about this situation?”
“Is it true that you fought Kahal Magdu together?”

From absurd questions to reasonable ones, the supposed interview stretched until sunrise.

The barrage of questions was so relentless that Yeomyeong, briefly entertaining his newfound infamy, wondered if he might deck one of them.

In the end, though, he didn’t get to punch anyone. He simply collapsed from exhaustion.

And now.

Yeomyeong looked at the half-mangled apple and spoke.

“…So, why are you here?”

“Worried about my comrade?”

“Cut the crap.”

“Really, that’s it.”

The Saintess chuckled as she set the apple aside, then picked up another fruit, a rather expensive-looking pear.

After chopping it a bit, she suddenly spoke.

“What’s your relationship with the Holy Sword?”

“…Holy Sword?”

“Freya Khan. The great usurper. The disgrace of the Holy Knights.”

Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes without answering.

Did she recognize the Comet Sword? No, she wouldn’t be asking otherwise.

He considered the relationship between the Holy Sword and the Saintess. Though both served sacred gods, they were practically enemies.

The Holy Kingdom beyond the dimensional portal refused to accept that an Earthling had been chosen by the Holy Sword.

Protests about doubting the god’s choice were futile. The Holy Kingdom claimed it was the Holy Sword, not the gods, who chose Freya Khan.

If you’re so confident, come to one of the five Holy Temples in the Holy Kingdom and undergo the trials, they challenged.

Naturally, the Australian government and Freya Khan ignored them.

After all, the Holy Sword was a weapon of mass destruction on par with a nuclear weapon.

In short, the Saintess, approved by the Holy Kingdom, and Freya Khan with the Holy Sword were political enemies.

So… there was no good reason for the Saintess to bring up Freya Khan.

After organizing his thoughts, Yeomyeong spoke.

“Why are you asking about me and Freya Khan?”

“…The way you’re dodging suggests you really do have some connection.”

The Saintess sighed. The knife slipped, cutting a chunk off the pear. Such a waste.

But the Saintess continued, ignoring the ruined pear.

“Are you her disciple?”

“No.”

“Then her lover?”

“….”

“Your expression says otherwise… Could you be her son??”

Yeomyeong scowled at the Saintess, who looked away, feigning a cough.

“Ahem, you can’t take a joke?”

“If you make another joke like that, I’ll throw you out of this room.”

“Oh, lighten up. So, what’s your actual connection to Freya Khan?”

The Saintess leaned in closer. Though hidden behind her cloak, she was likely peering into his face.

Yeomyeong sighed and replied.

“Just a passing acquaintance.”

As soon as he answered, she spun the knife in her hand. A graceful flourish for such poor knife skills.

“A passing acquaintance… Well, no problem, then.”

With a flourish, she set the knife down and added,

“Sorry for the prying questions. I just thought the old men would throw a fit if I were to work with someone close to Freya Khan.”

“…Work? Throw a fit?”

“Yes, work. There are some monsters to take care of in Manju on humanitarian grounds, and I have a few things to find here secretly.”

Yeomyeong tilted his head, not quite understanding. The Saintess continued in her usual casual tone.

“It might be sudden, but after fighting Kahal Magdu, I realized something. I’m the Saintess, right? Shouldn’t I have a bodyguard? That kind of thing.”

Yeomyeong clicked his tongue internally. So that’s what this was about…

“If you’re looking for a bodyguard, hire another mercenary. There are plenty more skilled than me around Manju.”

“You’re rejecting me without even hearing the terms?”

“Of course I’m rejecting you. We didn’t exactly meet under the best circumstances, and frankly, I’m suspicious of your sudden interest in me as a bodyguard.”

“…Hey, that’s a bit much.”

“If mercenaries aren’t your thing, hire a Holy Knight. I’m sure plenty would line up for the job. In any case, I refuse.”

The Saintess seemed taken aback by his refusal, her hands trembling slightly as she clenched her lips.

A moment later, she pulled out her smartphone from under the cloak.

“What mercenary company did you say you belonged to?”

“…What?”

“Ah, here it is. Seonjook Mercenary Corps, Team 3, Cheon Yeomyeong.”

Before Yeomyeong could respond, she jumped up. The bowl containing the mangled apple and pear clattered.

“Well then, I’ll just hire the mercenary directly.”

Through the cloak, Yeomyeong could almost see her smug grin.