Chapter 9
Beneath a clear sky, a carriage sped along a paved road.
Inside, Aria leaned against the hard backrest and stared at the man who called himself the Hero.
“……You mean you kidnapped me just for that reason?”
“What other valid reason would there be?”
Aria stared at the Hero, dumbfounded.
He remained unmoved despite the saintess’s incredulous gaze.
What an incredibly self-centered man.
She recalled the question she’d asked him a little while ago.
‘Why did you kidnap me, Hero?’
It was a perfectly natural question.
Whether she liked it or not, they were going to be traveling together, weren’t they?
So why go out of his way to kidnap her?
Deep, dark eyes gazed at Aria.
His gaze sent a shiver down her spine, though not in the same way as the clergy’s.
It felt deadly and dangerous, like a predator’s fangs.
It was as if her body instinctively shrank back, like a herbivore faced with a carnivore.
At last, the Hero casually waved a hand and said,
‘Because it was the fastest way.’
‘……Pardon?’
‘It was obvious they’d drag things out with procedures and a departure ceremony. I have no obligation to play along.’
He seemed to really dislike formalities.
Aria was sick of being tied down by formalities herself, so she could understand him to some extent.
……She could understand him, but still.
She’d never go so far as to turn everything upside down like this.
That sort of inconsiderate, outrageous behavior was beyond her.
By now, the cult was probably in an uproar over her sudden disappearance.
The thought gave Aria a headache.
‘How are you going to deal with the consequences……?’
‘That’s not my problem. That’s for the kingdom to handle.’
Thinking that the Hero had truly abysmal social skills, she fell silent.
And this guy’s supposed to be the Hero?
As expected, rumors weren’t worth believing.
How was this supposed to be the perfect Hero?
‘……I feel sorry for Makarov.’
The one that innocent child looked up to.
How shocked Makarov would be to learn that the Hero was such an uncouth man.
The disappointment would be beyond measure.
Aria made up her mind.
She wouldn’t reveal the Hero’s true nature to Makarov.
There were plenty of truths that were better left unknown.
For example, that the saintess of the cult was actually just a cheap slut who spread her legs to take men’s seed……
“What’s wrong?”
“Pardon?”
“You don’t look very happy.”
It seemed her emotions had shown on her face.
Aria quickly schooled her expression.
“……It’s nothing.”
“Is that so?”
The Hero shrugged and turned his gaze toward the window.
He didn’t seem to care much.
Aria turned to the window on the opposite side, too.
Judging by how quickly the scenery flew by, the carriage seemed to be moving rather fast.
An awkward silence hung over the carriage for a while.
The Hero was the first to speak.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
She didn’t.
She wasn’t a priest who’d received a divine revelation. How could she possibly know?
“……No.”
“We’re heading to the largest mountain in this area.”
“……Why?”
“There are a lot of monsters there.”
Monsters.
It was a general term for creatures imbued with demonic energy.
……They were going to a mountain full of monsters.
She doubted they were just going to look at them like tourists.
The Hero flashed a fierce smile, as if to intimidate her, and said,
“So if you’re scared, go back now.”
“……What did you say?”
“I said, if you’re scared, go back.”
You’re the one who brought me here, and now you’re telling me to go back?
His shameless behavior made Aria’s head spin.
“……Weren’t you the one who asked for my help, Hero?”
He replied without much interest.
“I’ve said over and over that I don’t need a saintess. The kingdom’s the one that wouldn’t listen.”
He didn’t need a saintess?
Was he trying to provoke her?
Aria studied the Hero’s face, but he looked utterly unconcerned.
He really did think he didn’t need her.
“I see.”
Aria didn’t argue with him.
She agreed with him, after all.
The Hero had already proven his abilities on his own.
What help could she possibly offer by tagging along?
She’d be lucky if she didn’t get in his way.
“Hmm?”
Perhaps her easy acceptance had surprised him a little.
The Hero rested his chin on his hand and shifted his gaze from the window to Aria.
“Most people get furious at that point.”
“……Have you traveled with other saintesses?”
“No, she was a mage. But aren’t you even angry?”
“You are being rude, Hero. Still……”
“……Still?”
Aria replied bitterly.
“I thought you were right. That’s the only reason I didn’t argue.”
She had next to no self-esteem to begin with.
Being dismissed and humiliated felt as familiar as running into an old classmate she hadn’t seen in years.
Of course, if they’d been somewhere public, she would’ve at least pretended to be angry for the sake of the Erotic Cult’s reputation.
But there was no one in this carriage except Aria and the Hero.
There was no reason to start a pointless fight.
The Hero scratched his cheek at Aria’s meek response.
“You’ve got no fire in you.”
“I’m still not going back, though.”
“Why?”
At the Hero’s question, Aria thought.
Why?
She could die if she went with the Hero.
There would be plenty of dangerous moments.
If he told her to go back, she could simply turn around and do it.
At least the cult would keep her safe from outside threats in comfortable surroundings.
‘Then why did I say I wouldn’t go back?’
She realized the answer almost immediately.
It was the first time.
Someone had looked at her without any ulterior motive.
There was no admiration, respect, or lust in his eyes.
The Hero had treated Aria like an ordinary person.
That simple fact.
That ordinary gesture.
It must have allowed Aria to breathe again.
Though Makarov was there, the cult was still a place where she was isolated.
The ordinary believers showered her with admiration and reverence as they pleased, while the high-ranking clergy used her to satisfy their lust.
The cult itself had become a suffocating set of shackles for Aria.
If not for innocent Makarov, she would’ve hanged herself long ago.
“Why, you ask?”
The Hero asked again.
Aria had realized how she felt, but explaining those feelings was another matter altogether.
How could she say, I feel at ease by your side, so I want to stay with you?
It was embarrassing.
“D-do I really have to tell you?”
“……I suppose not.”
He just clicked his tongue as if unimpressed, but didn’t press her for an answer.
What a straightforward man.
The Hero changed the subject and asked,
“……Then let me ask you something else. Since I’ve brought you along, what can you do?”
‘What can you do?’
He probably hadn’t meant it as an accusation, but Aria suddenly felt her breath catch in her throat.
Those words were a sort of PTSD trigger for her.
Every time Cardinal Marblov, Bishop Ronin, or another clergyman raped her, she’d asked herself that very question.
‘What can you do? You’re a pathetic, ugly person. Don’t you think it’s about time you realized that? You know, don’t you? The reason I keep asking is because you admit it’s true, right? That’s why you don’t resist those bastards and just lie back and offer your body, because it’s easier. Or did you enjoy being pinned beneath a man and moaning? Ugh, disgusting. You’ve got quite the stomach, don’t you?’
The voice rang in her ears like a hallucination, and her head began to throb.
Her breathing grew ragged, as if she were high in the mountains where the air was thin.
Her hands trembled like she’d come down with the shakes.
“………I-I, I……”
The Hero waited without rushing or scolding her as she stammered.
His calm demeanor helped steady her mind and body somewhat, and Aria thought of what she could do.
For starters, she could use holy arts.
Holy arts were, as the name suggested, a general term for sacred powers. They included rare abilities such as healing wounds, resisting status effects, and enhancing physical abilities.
Aria was exceptionally talented in holy arts, as befitted a saintess.
In just one year, she’d distinguished herself by displaying holy arts superior to those of most archbishops.
……But if he was asking whether she could help in combat, well.
She could confidently say her fighting skills were as poor as those of an ordinary housewife.
Strangely, Aria couldn’t use techniques that harmed other people very well.
That was entirely due to the setting the author of The Surrogate Saintess had written for her.
-The saintess cannot use skills that harm other people.
For Aria, who had become a saintess, there could hardly be a more malicious statement.
In other words, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t improve her personal combat skills.
If she were a game character, Aria was just a walking medical kit.
Dwelling once more on her miserable situation, she told the Hero,
“……I’m a walking medical kit.”
Aria was dumbfounded by her own words.
She swore to the Goddess she hadn’t meant to give such a ridiculous explanation.
Somehow, the words had simply slipped out.
A walking medical kit? Wasn’t that a strange way to describe herself?
The Hero looked just as confused as she’d expected.
She would’ve felt the same way if their positions were reversed.
“……What does that mean?”
“Ah, I-I mean…… I can cure status effects, or heal serious wounds, or something like that! M-most medical kits are used for things like that, right?”
As Aria rambled on, the Hero chuckled.
It was a rather mean-spirited laugh.
“You’re the first clergyperson I’ve ever met who introduced herself as a walking medical kit.”
Well, of course.
It was a completely unhinged explanation, no matter how she looked at it.
Aria wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
The Hero, though, seemed to like her original introduction and gave her a mild smile.
“A walking medical kit, huh? That’s better than I expected.”
What was so good about that?
Aria glared at the Hero, who was grinning mischievously.
“Why do you look so annoyed…… Ah, is it because we haven’t introduced ourselves yet?”
That wasn’t what she was annoyed about, but Aria decided to keep quiet.
Sometimes, keeping quiet was the safest course.
The Hero took off his leather glove and held out his hand.
“Ashtein. I don’t have a surname.”
He tossed the name out casually.
Ashtein, Ashtein.
Aria repeated his relatively easy-to-remember name to herself as she shook his hand.
“I’m Aria Rameld.”
“That’s an easy name to remember.”
“And you, Hero……”
“We’ve introduced ourselves. Just call me Ashtein.”
“Mr. Ashtein……”
Ashtein cut her off again.
“Ashtein.”
He was insisting rather forcefully.
Aria gave him a sweet little smile.
“Mr. Ashtein.”
“Ashtein.”
“Mr. Ashtein.”
It was a pointless battle of wills.