Chapter 22: Saintess Candidate – 1

“The brat’s back.”

Volcan chuckled as he waited for me.

Was this old man really the Sword King?

Could someone of his caliber really afford to be this free all the time?

He is the Sword King.

Rishiel nodded in confirmation at my thoughts.

Did I not tell you before?

The title of Swordmaster is only granted to those who receive the rare Gift and then refine it through relentless effort and dedication.

That man is one of humanity’s greatest warriors.

…Was humanity really going to be okay?

The thought of Volcan being our last line of defense was a little unsettling.

As I pondered this, the old man handed me a black pouch.

“What’s this?”

“Did I not tell you? I had a gift for you when you returned from the labyrinth.”

Oh, right.

He had said something like that.

But I hadn’t taken him seriously.

‘I thought he was just messing with me.’

Turns out, he was serious.

I’d expected some kind of prank, but instead, he was actually giving me something.

…That was kind of touching.

A gift, huh.

What could it be?

I reached for the pouch.

Volcan grinned and let it go.

Thunk.

“…?”

What the.

Why was this thing so heavy?

For a moment, I nearly lost my balance.

Sure, I was a bit tired, but.

‘No, seriously, what the hell is this?’

This weight was no joke.

It had to be at least as heavy as me.

Thief’s Pinnacle.

With Thief’s Pinnacle, my hands instinctively measured the weight.

60 kilograms.

What kind of gift weighs this much?

Was it a subspace storage device?

Armor?

A weapon?

I looked at Volcan with suspicion, but he just grinned.

“You seem like the type who relies on raw talent in battle.”

Well, obviously.

I had only been here for a week.

I hadn’t received any formal training at all.

So, naturally.

“That’s why I brought you something that’ll help build a proper foundation.”

“…So what is this?”

“They’re Iron Rings. The concept is simple—wear them on your limbs and go about your daily life. They’re meant for training, and I can make them even heavier if needed.”

Then, with a wink and a thumbs-up, he added,

“I made them just for you.”

…Expecting anything from him was a mistake.

Seriously.

Actually, since they were made entirely of metal, I wondered if I could sell them for a decent amount.

As I was considering that, Erme approached us.

“Haa… We collected so much loot this time that it’ll take until tomorrow to get a proper payout.”

“Oh? You guys really hauled in a lot, huh? Looks like you made quite a profit.”

“Hehe, even if you ask, it’s a secret.”

Erme responded playfully.

Given that we had gotten tangled up with some shady people, keeping things quiet was probably the right call.

But then.

“…?”

Erme was acting strange.

Normally, she’d smirk and make a joke about how things were playing out like a cliché.

But now.

‘Why is she blushing and acting shy?’

Did she eat something weird?

That was my first thought as I stared at Erme.

Then, Volcan looked between the two of us and smirked.

“Hoho… So that’s how it is.”

He had a sleazy grin on his face.

Yep.

He was definitely thinking something weird.

‘Anyway… what’s going to happen now?’

I recalled the people who had ambushed us.

Naturally, we had killed all of them.

We couldn’t afford to leave survivors who knew about us.

Plus, Erme had insisted we make an example out of them—since they had targeted us first.

‘If we’re not careful, we might end up as their targets.’

I thought back to the Sub Quest.

A hidden faction operating in the shadows.

If that organization had truly started moving…

‘And the reward for all this is half the world?’

That was ridiculous.

At that point, wouldn’t they basically be the Demon King’s forces?

The Demon King…

I recalled the Main Quest of this game.

It was about heading to The Cradle.

Most likely, the game’s final objective was to defeat the Demon King.

‘…I’m supposed to take him down?’

The more I thought about the Demon King, the more hopeless it seemed.

I knew why I had ended up playing Arcadia RPG in the first place.

It was because a friend had recommended it to me.

And that’s why I knew.

‘I remember hearing him rant about the final boss sometimes.’

From everything I had heard…

Was that thing even meant to be beaten?

Complete immunity to physical and magical attacks, resistance to all elemental damage, and every time you got hit.

You lost at least half your HP.

“…?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Volcan grinned after dropping that cryptic statement.

“For now, that’s all the information I’m allowed to share. If you want to know more—climb higher, brat.”

This old man really knew how to mess with people.

I gave him a deadpan look, but his expression turned serious.

“Brat, I know you’re talented, but there are some things in this world you’re better off not knowing.”

Things I’m better off not knowing…

Was this some kind of dark secret about humanity?

Was it really that dangerous just to know about it?

I scoffed.

Then, putting on my best clueless face, I blinked innocently and said,

“What do you mean? I didn’t hear anything.”

“You’re shameless.”

Volcan smirked at my blatant act.

“Well.”

I shrugged.

Survival meant knowing when to play dumb.

But still—information that could get me killed just by knowing it?

I glanced at Rishiel.

What is this nonsense?

The Demon King hasn’t appeared for a thousand years?

But the World Tree…

Even Rishiel looked bewildered.

Judging by her reaction, there was a lot even she didn’t know.

…Well, it wasn’t my problem for now.

If the Demon King was relevant, it would be in the late game of this world.

Killing the Demon King can wait.

For now, my priority was staying alive.

I strapped Volcan’s gift onto my arms and legs.

Instantly, my body sagged under the weight.

‘This isn’t completely impossible…’

I had to grit my teeth with every step, but I could still move.

Just as I started adjusting.

“Oh? You’re still here?”

Glasses and Theresa waved as they approached.

“You don’t seem to be standing around out of hesitation… H-huh?! Sword King, sir!”

“Yeah, yeah, good to see you, Glasses.”

Volcan barely acknowledged Glasses’ greeting, waving it off absentmindedly.

Meanwhile, Theresa quietly approached me and spoke.

“Are you heading to the inn again today?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not going to the orphanage?”

“…Why would I go there?”

“I thought you grew up in one.”

Her blue eyes sparkled slightly, a faint smile forming on her lips.

Her gaze—soft, almost damp—felt like it was asking me something.

Like she was silently hoping I’d ask her back.

“…Where are you going after this?”

“The orphanage.”

“And the inn?”

“I eat and sleep at the orphanage.”

“…Wait, didn’t you leave the orphanage?”

“They need extra hands, so I help out.”

…That made sense.

Even on Earth, orphanages struggled to function properly.

Let alone in a medieval-era world like this.

Of course they’d need help.

I turned to look at Theresa, wondering what she really meant by all this.

She wore a vacant expression as she asked,

“Wanna come with me?”

I set aside the why would I? part of my thoughts.

‘I guess I should check out the orphanage at some point.’

I studied her face.

She still had that unreadable look.

And then.

“…Are you an orphan too?”

She dropped the question, just like that.

…Was she trying to start a fight?

I was about to seriously consider it—until I realized Theresa’s expression was completely serious.

“Anyone who doesn’t trust their family is basically an orphan. Or… they were sold off at a young age.”

Glasses hurriedly cut in.

Well, he did spend a lot of time with her. He probably knew she had communication issues.

‘And despite that, Glasses still sticks around her…’

That meant whatever flaws she had were outweighed by something else.

Just like how I trusted Erme, she and Glasses must have had a dynamic that worked.

As if confirming his words, Theresa nodded.

‘The orphanage, huh…’

I had heard about it before.

Not that I ever wanted to.

That guy wouldn’t stop rambling about it, no matter how little I cared.

‘It’s probably not a great place.’

More accurately—the people connected to it were dangerous.

But still.

‘I’ll have to check it out eventually.’

Erme wanted a Saintess Candidate.

Now that we had enough firepower, she was looking for stability.

Glasses was doing his best, but…

‘I don’t know how much longer we can keep avoiding injuries.’

One mistake, and we’d be in serious trouble.

So prioritizing safety was the best move.

And orphanages in this world were typically run by nuns.

‘Meaning—it’s a good place to recruit a healer.’

It was about time we filled out our party.

When people think of a Saintess, a few common images come to mind.

A gentle smile. Exceptional holy power.

In our world, though, the term often referred to women wearing bizarrely revealing outfits, oscillating between sacred and indecent.

‘But that’s not normally the case.’

A Saintess is usually depicted as someone pure and devout—sometimes a bit naive, but ultimately kind-hearted.

So logically, anyone considered for the role should fit that mold.

…Please, no.

I really hoped the drunken woman in front of me wasn’t the Saintess Candidate.

Hic.

No, seriously.

I had been hoping for someone graceful, kind, and reliable.

Instead, the universe handed me this.

Maybe this was divine compensation for all my suffering?

Or maybe the gods just had a twisted sense of humor.

“…Who’s this handsome guy?”

She slurred, grinning lazily.

Before I could react, she leaned in.

Attempting to kiss me.

Smack.

I caught her face in my hand.

“Mmph! Mmmmphhh…!”

She started licking my palm.

I felt my last shred of sanity slipping away.

I wanted to bury my face in my hands and mourn my fate.

But.

My hand was now covered in her spit.

I had to endure it.

‘…This… thing…’

Was supposed to be a Saintess Candidate?

This world was utterly doomed.

*Ding.*

[Encounter Quest]

You have met a Saintess Candidate.

You must either capture her interest or make her lose interest in you.

Reward: ???

Failure Penalty: None.

…Are you kidding me?