“Saint, it’s time to wake up.”
On a bright and warm morning like any other,Joan Allende, the Saint of the Goddess’ Order that spans the entire continent, rubbed her drowsy eyes and sat up.
“Yaaawn… Morning already?”
She ran her toes along the floor, searching for her slippers, and rang the bell by her bedside.
It was to summon the attendants waiting outside.
This was a guest chamber located within the Grand Cathedral of the Kingdom of Allein.
At present, it was a space prepared solely for the Saint, which was rather unusual for a cathedral.
Though, technically, the attendants here were just volunteers from among the clergy.
“You’ve been waking up early lately.”
“It’s an important time. If I want to fulfill my duty, I have to do my best.”
“A commendable mindset. His Holiness, held captive by Duce, would be pleased as well.”
That man, who couldn’t stop staring at my chest every time we met?
Yeah, sure.
The words rose to her throat, but she held them back.
She was now the leader of the Goddess’ Order, after all.
Ever since the Holy See had been occupied by the Helvetian Republic, the only remaining authority capable of leading the Order was the Saint herself.
Burdened with immense responsibility at a young age, she had to at least maintain an air of dignity and composure.
If she spent all day grumbling and acting frivolous, what would the believers think of the Order?
“Shall I prepare water and towels for your bath?”
“No need. Instead, could you bring me a light meal? Something like a sandwich or some fruit.”
“I’ll have it brought right away.”
While the elderly priest left to fetch the food, Joan allowed the nuns to assist her in getting dressed.
She shed her flowing nightgown and put on a ceremonial robe that was, honestly, a bit too revealing.
Then she adorned herself with simple accessories.
After brushing her soft, green hair and wiping her face clean, she draped a robe over herself to conceal her overly prominent assets.
Even without emphasizing them, they were impossible to ignore.
With her sacred staff and scripture in hand, the formal attire of the Saint was complete.
‘Feels a bit tight.’
She was sure she had her measurements taken just last month and had the outfit tailored.
But why did it already feel constricting again?
Had her chest grown even larger in the meantime?
If those things got any bigger than they already were—bigger than her head, even—she wouldn’t be able to manage them at all.
She grumbled internally but didn’t say it out loud.
If the nuns overheard, they would surely shoot her looks of sheer rage and jealousy—so intense even demons would recoil.
“Good morning, Saint. Did you sleep well last night?”
“Thanks to you. The bed was so comfortable, I slept soundly.”
After a simple meal brought by the priest, Joan stepped outside, where a bishop was waiting.
He was part of the delegation accompanying her—As well as an advisor who assisted her in matters of politics and diplomacy, her weaker areas.
“What’s on today’s agenda?”
“Not much. You’ll attend the morning service and hold meetings with representatives from the dioceses. Originally, there was supposed to be a summit with the King in the afternoon, but…”
The bishop clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“They suddenly informed us just two hours ago that it’s canceled. They want to postpone it to the week after next.”
A blatant act of disrespect.
The Saint held a status equivalent to the Holy See—essentially on par with a head of state.
Right now, she was even acting as the interim Holy See.
In other words, the King should be rushing out barefoot to welcome her, not pulling such a discourteous move.
“This is a power play, clear as day! They’re trying to trample on our dignity while they have the chance!”
It wasn’t as if they were ignorant of the diplomatic norms.
The fact that they still did this could only mean one thing:A test of dominance.
With war underway and the kingdom aligning itself against the Goddess’ Order, they wanted to establish a hierarchy.
Now that the Holy See had fallen and the Order’s influence had waned, they saw an opportunity to bring it to heel.
“Saint, we must formally protest this! How dare they commit such an atrocity against the faithful of the Goddess—”
“I’ll leave the official response to the Archbishop. As for the summit, there’s no need to push for an earlier date.”
“Huh? Why is that?”
Despite his strong insistence on taking a hardline approach, Joan nodded calmly, suggesting some flexibility.
The truth was, they were the ones at a disadvantage here.
The Order had lost its headquarters and its command structure.
They were struggling just to maintain a government-in-exile, completely at the mercy of the situation.
The very reason Joan had traveled from Navre to Allein was to plead for an end to the persecution and suppression of the Church.
‘Besides, we don’t have the moral high ground, do we?’
The corruption within the Order had been undeniable.
It was hard to refute the criticisms when they were, well… true.
The clergy had spent centuries enriching themselves, often in collusion with royalty and nobility.
Sure, they hadn’t been the only ones benefiting, but—Ultimately, it was the Church that had been called out first.
Which meant it was the Church that had to take responsibility.
“Understood. But if I may ask, what personal business do you have?”
The bishop, somewhat reassured by her composed response, still found himself puzzled.
What could a Saint possibly need to attend to in a land where she had no personal connections?
“A divine revelation.”
“Ah!”
Joan answered plainly.
“It’s not something I can explain in detail, but the Goddess has instructed me to go to the Academy. So I’ll be heading there for a while.”
“I see. I’ll inform the others.”
With a vigorous nod, the bishop withdrew.
Now alone, the Saint made her way to the chapel.
The rhythmic clacking of her heels echoed through the corridor.
‘A divine revelation… that got cut off halfway.’
It had been two nights ago, late at night.
While she was soaking in the bath, exhausted, the voice of the Goddess had suddenly reached her ears.
[Hey, you there? You listening?]
Unlike her usual slow, arrogant drawl, her tone had been nothing short of frantic.
She hadn’t even waited for a response before urgently firing off words in quick succession.
Desperate.
Unlike herself.
[Listen, I don’t have much time. I’ll get straight to the point. There’s someone out there—someone deliberately inciting war and spreading discord.]
‘You mean… there’s a mastermind behind this whole war?’
[Yeah. So you need to get to the Academy right away and find an instructor named Leamis—]
And then, the connection had been severed.
She hadn’t been able to hear the rest.
Most likely, the Goddess had run out of divine power.
Faith was the source of divinity, and with the war reducing the number of worshippers, it was no surprise that the Goddess’ strength was dwindling.
‘But I understood the important part.’
Leamis.
If the Goddess had specifically named her, then she must be a crucial figure.
Someone who could help uncover and defeat this mysterious enemy.
Since she was an instructor, she must be knowledgeable.
Joan wasn’t sure exactly how she could help, but she would meet her, learn from her—And if needed, recruit her.
‘Judging by the name, she’s probably a woman… I hope she’s elegant.’
Joan reached a logical conclusion based on the limited information available to her.
Unaware that she was walking straight into the hands of Moriarty, convinced she was greeting Lestrade.
*****
“…So you’re saying you came all this way to take my lecture.”
“Yes! Is there still an open seat?”
“…Of course. As it happens, one spot just opened up.”
I had no idea what kind of insane situation this was.
But when the Saintess earnestly requested it, I had no choice but to accept her as a student in my special political science lecture.
Making excuses about eligibility requirements was meaningless.
For fuck’s sake, the leader of the continent’s largest religious order wanted to learn from me—how the hell was I supposed to refuse?
The dean was staring at me with a downright murderous look.
“Then, please come to this classroom three times a week at 1 PM.”
“Thank you. Oh, Instructor? Would it be possible to seek additional lessons outside of the lectures?”
“You mean private tutoring?”
“Yes. I don’t have much time, but there’s so much I want to learn.”
“…I’ll arrange a session in the morning.”
As a temporary lecturer, I didn’t have the privilege of declining a polite yet high-profile request.
And so, I had no choice but to accept a contract as the Saintess’s personal instructor for the next two weeks, Monday through Friday.
Annoying as it was, I still intended to do my job properly.
I needed to lay low and act normal until Kalia completed her mission.
“Since time is short, we’ll move at a fast pace. Today, we’ll cover the differences between Monarchy and republics, as well as diplomatic rhetoric.”
I condensed my years of academic study and experience into digestible lessons for her.
Basic diplomacy, strategic use of political language, fundamental principles of international relations, and the structural differences between various forms of government.
I made sure to select topics that were useful in this era yet wouldn’t be considered ideologically dangerous.
“When a diplomat says they will positively consider something, it means you shouldn’t even dream about it happening. Saying they will actively pursue something only means they’ll at least give it a try.”
“Ideologies have far greater power than people often assume. Take Helvetia, for example—there are cases where an entire nation has been consumed by madness because of them.”
“When making agreements or treaties between states, never rely on goodwill. That’s the fastest way to get scammed and stripped of everything.”
Surprisingly, the Saintess was a decent student.
She paid close attention to what I said, asked questions whenever she didn’t understand something, and never slacked off.
Unlike those lazy brats who just sat there zoning out or dozing off, she actually had a drive to learn.
Honestly, teaching her felt rewarding.
“So in diplomacy, using the exact same phrasing is an absolute no-go?”
“That’s right. Unless you want to permanently ruin your credibility.”
But then, our teacher-student relationship—formed by pure coincidence—came to a disastrous end because of her reckless words and my temper.
*****
“Honestly, I just don’t understand Ishmael. How could someone who lives under the Goddess’s blessing even consider defying Her?”
“…What?”
“Think about it. The only reason we can live happy and fulfilling lives is thanks to the Goddess. So how could anyone even think about rebelling against Her?”
“You..”
What the hell do you know about me?