Rubena Pradeiri had a terrible personality.
Even considering that likes and dislikes are inherently subjective, this was an undeniable fact.
She was someone who, by anyone’s standards, wasn’t virtuous—a selfish and venomous woman.
Rubena herself was well aware of these traits.
However, her reaction to this self-awareness was simply, “So what? What are you going to do about it? I’m an adult.”
That being said, there was one thing Rubena, with her nature, understood.
The world is vast, and there are countless bitches in it. But among them, she ranked near the top.
And yet, even in such a world, there existed this one bitch so extraordinary that even Rubena couldn’t hold a candle to her.
What more is there to say?
Bersia de Astalion—the woman hailed as the epitome of sainthood by the world—was that one-of-a-kind bitch.
It had been apparent from their first meeting.
Ten years ago, when Rubena was thirteen and first received her divine revelation to join the church, Bersia was already a saintess.
At that time, Rubena harbored no animosity toward Bersia.
Instead, she was filled with grandiose thoughts about living a glamorous life as a saintess herself, seeing Bersia merely as someone in a similar position, a ‘peer.’
But that perception was twisted during their first encounter.
“Ah, hello! I’m Rube—”
“Do you know me?”
“…?”
“Oh, I wondered if we’d met before, since you stopped me.”
With a bright smile plastered on her face, Bersia said these words.
Then, as the flustered Rubena stood with her mouth agape, Bersia brushed past her indifferently, as though her interest had already waned.
It didn’t take long for Rubena to realize this was just the kind of person Bersia was.
The remarks she later heard only solidified her suspicions.
“Though known for her compassion in the public eye, she’s rather cold within the church.”
“She doesn’t engage in deep conversations with anyone. Even when you try to approach her, her inherent chill pushes you away.”
“She never shows emotion. Sometimes, it’s like looking at a finely crafted doll.”
It was plain to see.
She was the kind of person who regarded everyone but herself as mere insects.
The kind who felt no compulsion to even pretend to tolerate others.
…Well, with everything she had, she could afford to be that way.
When they first met, Bersia was only eight years old.
Even then, her beauty was stunning enough to inspire no jealousy, and at eighteen, she had become a truly radiant beauty.
And her divine power?
Unprecedented, unparalleled, and unmatched.
Every word used to describe her strength pointed to her extraordinary abilities.
Her title, “The Beloved Daughter of the Lord,” said it all.
She was a woman born with everything.
And because of that, she was lofty and insufferable.
That was Rubena’s perception of her—and it was one shared by most saints.
After coming to these realizations, Rubena gave up any interest in Bersia.
Wasn’t she someone you couldn’t get close to?
Each could take what they wanted from their respective positions and leave it at that.
But that plan ultimately failed.
When confined to shared spaces, unavoidable friction led to the buildup of unpleasant feelings.
A series of incidents caused Rubena to repeatedly clash with Bersia, and with each encounter, her resentment deepened.
Thus, animosity was born.
Rubena always referred to Bersia as a “bitch,” cursing her at every opportunity.
Bersia, with her usual unflappable demeanor, simply smiled faintly and ignored her.
Rubena thought this would go on forever.
She thought Bersia would live her life that way.
But what on earth was this sight before her?
“Th-this, um…”
It was the first time.
Seeing an Emotion on Bersia de Astarion’s Face
It was the first time Rubena had ever seen anything resembling emotion on Bersia’s face.
To witness feelings like embarrassment or shyness expressed on that face—on that woman who seemed the most ill-suited for such expressions—was surreal.
She looked almost girlish.
Her flushed cheeks were fresh and tender, reminiscent of late-spring fruit, ready to burst at a single touch.
Her eyes, spinning with confusion, glistened with a purity that seemed to ripple through her bashfulness.
The sight gave Rubena chills.
It was so unnerving to realize that Bersia’s sky-blue hair and sapphire eyes, which usually exuded coldness, could instead radiate clarity. The notion was so revolting it made her stomach churn.
This reaction wasn’t unique to Rubena.
She glanced at Judith.
Judith stood there with her mouth agape, wearing an idiotic expression.
In all of Rubena’s memory, Judith Harroway had never been so flustered.
A woman who usually carried herself with haughty arrogance, constantly looking down on others’ intellects, now wore a dumbfounded expression that betrayed the gravity of the situation.
Bersia’s transformation was just that alien, shocking, and terrifying.
At first, Rubena thought it was some new form of pretense.
Since Bersia had brought along a clean-cut, handsome man, she figured this was just another game to amuse herself.
But now, it seemed that wasn’t the case.
Even hate, when nurtured long enough, could transform into a kind of connection.
Even bad ties were still ties.
Had this abrupt change begun with the appearance of the knight in her service?
Rubena, briefly pondering the causal relationship, decided to ask sincerely.
“…Are you okay?”
For the first time in her life, Rubena worried about Bersia.
Judith, too, chimed in.
“Have you been hexed? Or cursed by the heavens? Maybe afflicted by a female’s curse?”
“W-what?!”
Bersia flinched, her gaze darting between the two of them in confusion.
Her helpless demeanor, accompanied by those feeble noises, was unmistakable.
She looked every bit like a naïve maiden, one who had never so much as held a man’s hand, dreaming of a fairy tale romance with a prince.
Behind Usher, a sense of cold dread washed over.
Had he said something he shouldn’t have?
His heart raced at the thought that he might have caused trouble.
Ah, why was it that nothing ever went smoothly?
He tried to come up with an excuse but found nothing satisfactory.
Of course, there was no way to smooth this over.
He had already uttered words laced with the nuance of someone attempting to diet by abstaining from cookies. What kind of explanation could possibly cover for that?
Though in reality, it wasn’t his words but his expressions and actions that had caused the unease, Usher had no way of knowing that.
He was under the delusion that he was doing a decent job of imitating Bersia.
As judgmental gazes bore into him, Usher’s head hung lower and lower.
Maybe if he said nothing from now on, he could prevent further catastrophe.
At this point, he even recalled a sage’s proverb about how silence was half the battle won.
‘Oh, Lord!’
Clenching his eyes shut, Usher prayed silently for deliverance.
Perhaps the heavens heard his plea.
Thud!
“Hahaha! Sorry I’m late!!!”
A youthful voice rang out, loud and boisterous.
Startled, Usher looked up, as did the other two.
Judith sighed in irritation.
Rubena frowned in exasperation.
Usher gulped nervously.
They all turned their heads.
There stood a small figure dragging a grotesque, blood-red lump of flesh behind them.
It was the arrival of the final saint.
“Where have you been, stirring up a fuss again?”
“Stirring up a fuss? It was a hunt!!!”
“You could have at least left that hideous thing behind.”
“I brought it with purpose!!!”
Two Braids of Blonde Hair, A Face Still Round with Baby Fat
The figure had a youthful face and body that seemed barely ten years old, with her blonde hair tied in two braids. Despite her childlike appearance, her aura was anything but innocent.
Her round red eyes gleamed with raw, untamed malice, and the corners of her mouth curled up in a smirk that twitched with violent energy.
Usher tensed.
She was someone you couldn’t not recognize—arguably more famous than Bersia herself.
“How’ve you been, little ones?”
“And who exactly are you calling little?”
“Hahaha!!!”
Halia Claudio.
Despite her youthful looks, she had been serving as a saintess for over 40 years, making her the eldest of the group and one of the Church’s feared “Inquisitors of Heresy.”
Usher knew her for one reason only: he had once participated in a heretic extermination operation under her command.
Thud!
Halia threw the grotesque, bloody lump of flesh onto the floor, away from the table.
Blood splattered, and the stench of rotting flesh filled the air.
The pleasant atmosphere of the garden was shattered.
Usher recognized the thing immediately.
‘…Corrupt Entity.’
It was a vile creation forged by heretics, merging corrupted human souls and bodies into a twisted abomination.
Though he had faced such things several times before, he had never grown used to them.
His face twisted in mild disgust, and Halia noticed.
“Hah! Bersia, still wearing that look of utter disdain for the world, I see!”
Startled, Usher’s shoulders twitched, but he said nothing.
Belatedly, he convinced himself that this reaction might somehow align with Bersia’s usual demeanor. ‘Perhaps if I stay like this, I can keep up the act,’ he thought.
Halia’s sudden entrance diverted the attention of Judith and Rubena, pulling them away from their earlier scrutiny of Usher.
“Rubena! Your neckline’s gotten even lower. Why don’t you just bare everything at this rate?”
“Mind your own business, old hag. What’s it to you how I dress?”
“Haha! And Judith! Still as skinny as ever, with that face like you’re chewing on dung!”
“Did you really expect a pleasant expression when you bring in something like that? Truly impressive.”
Judith’s words were polite, but her tone dripped with insolence.
Halia, unfazed by such remarks, simply laughed heartily, as though she was used to it.
Still, the tense and dangerous situation seemed to have passed, for which Usher felt begrudgingly grateful.
He glanced at Halia from the corner of his eye.
“Well, we’ve seen each other’s faces, so I’ll be going now. I have research to attend to,” Judith said as she stood up.
“Me too. I’ve no desire to linger in this stench,” Rubena added, rising from her seat.
Usher hesitated, unsure whether he should get up as well. His indecision was plain as he fidgeted nervously.
Then, Halia spoke.
“And where do you think you’re going? We have a meeting.”
“Since when have you ever held meetings?”
“Hm? Isn’t that what this tea party is for?”
Judith’s brow furrowed.
“Sit down. There’s an announcement to make.”
“Is it urgent?”
“If you consider it urgent, then yes, it is.”
Her smile took on a menacing edge.
That grin, filled with a crimson hue, sent a chill down Usher’s spine.
“You all need to take on some work,” Halia declared.
“Hah?”
Lubena reacted irritably, but her annoyance vanished the next moment.
“A heretic saint has appeared. In other words, a witch.”
“…!”
The room froze.