The way humans think is incredibly irrational and illogical; they can feel completely opposite emotions in exactly the same situations, and conversely, they can feel exactly the same emotions in two completely different opposite scenarios.
I am a human, and of course, I have the same irrational and illogical thought process. My brain isn’t leaps and bounds better than anyone else’s, nor do I think I’m worse than others.
…So why am I bringing this up?
“Wow, I really need to run away somewhere.”
Well, that’s obvious because of the situation I’m currently in.
If I had to categorize the situation more accurately, it would be closer to feeling the same emotions in two totally different opposite situations than it would be to feeling completely different opposite emotions in the same situation.
Not long ago… well, it was almost a month ago, I made a huge blunder at the Central Church. I carelessly yapped away in front of the Pope and accidentally let it slip that I was somewhat of a savior sent by the Goddess and that I could always talk with her.
I personally didn’t think that at all, but when you break it down, it’s not entirely wrong. However, by the time I realized that, the Pope had already fallen to his knees before me, the nun behind him fainted, and the secretary was completely frozen.
In an atmosphere where I was pretty sure my words wouldn’t be believed—no, rather they probably wouldn’t be heard at all—I decided to just escape from the Central Church without saying a word.
And not long ago—this was about a week ago, so it really counts as “not long ago”—I finally got in touch with the Central Church and, with the help of the Inquisition Knights and the Saint Knights, contributed to uncovering a bunch of demons hiding deep within human society.
Because of that, the Central Church was all up in arms about wanting to give me a medal or a formal position and all that jazz.
I already had the official position of a Saintess, and I didn’t want anything more than that, so all I could do was hold back tears of gratitude. Complete fanatics, the lot of them.
So what emotions do you think I would feel when I see those people?
Of course, it’s uncomfortable!
Yeah, it’s nice to be liked, but no, it’s not just liking; it’s more like respect, or perhaps even a form of worship. Regardless, it’s an emotion that’s very, very far from dislike, so let’s just roll with that.
However, conversely, if I don’t particularly like them, it’s only natural to feel uncomfortable.
Um… so, if I had to say, it’s not that I dislike them, but…
Ah, whatever, as I mentioned earlier, I’m just a typical human with an irrational and illogical thought process. So, I’ll just glaze over that with the feeling of ‘uncomfortable.’ To be honest, even if I weren’t me, anyone in this situation would likely feel the same way, right?
Alright, that covers one example of feeling ‘uncomfortable,’ so now let’s look at a completely opposite situation where I feel the same discomfort.
Recently—this happened just yesterday morning, so you could say it really is “recent”—something happened.
It was the long break, my vacation got canceled, and the Central Church kept pestering me, begging me to come visit just once, which I deflected by saying, “after I graduate from school.” So, unexpectedly, I didn’t have much to do, making me clean up in the morning along with the other nuns.
In the past, the nuns, whom I barely interacted with or seemed to harbor some jealousy towards me, now seemed like they could hardly breathe when I was just standing next to them, to the point where I worried they might collapse. So, I, Linea, and Aurora decided to keep our distance and sweep the floor in silence.
Come to think of that jealousy, it seems like it was just a fleeting phase. It was a feeling I had only briefly experienced back when I was still a nun attending the Academy before becoming a Saintess. After that, there were hardly any encounters.
So instead of jealousy, I had become a target for self-reflection, symbolically representing the nuns’ envy and recognition that I was indeed someone chosen by the Goddess. Consequently, the nuns began to see me as an extremely uncomfortable presence rather than an object of respect.
Of course, I share that sentiment. To make a comparison… it’s like when the lower-ranking soldiers in the military are cleaning and suddenly see someone who’s basically a government minister coming over with a broom to help.
Or maybe, limited to church premises, is it more like the President? Or the Pope acting as the President, and I, as someone canonized, being akin to a Prime Minister or Vice President? Either way, it would be quite a shocking experience.
But while it would indeed be incredibly tempting to sleep in at the dorms, that seems like a highly inconsiderate move… and Aurora might get mad if I did that. In any case, for various reasons, I was cleaning without anyone telling me to.
As the time that felt exceedingly uncomfortable dragged on tick tock, the prayer room door of the convent creaked open.
And the person who entered wasn’t wearing a nun’s outfit.
They were dressed sharply in a formal suit—white shirt, black tie, black shoes—someone you might think was a visitor at a funeral.
Well, just from this description alone, it was clear to everyone that this person wasn’t one of the church’s. If they were, naturally they would have been wearing some religious outfit in the church.
The person in the black suit scanned the room and quickly spotted me, the only one standing out in a white Saint’s robe among the drab nun outfits. They briskly walked toward me.
I pondered what kind of person this was when they stopped right in front of me and said:
“I wish to see the Saintess.”
Uh, but you’re looking right at me! Bisecting the physical space to assert this must mean they weren’t quite right in the head.
Wait, can anyone just waltz into the convent like this?
“May I ask where you’re from and who you are?”
I felt the surrounding nuns subtly pivot their ears toward us more than I realized and calmly inquired their name and affiliation.
“I come from the Central Intelligence Agency of the government.”
‘Affiliated with the government’ was literally true. In this world, the government can be split into central and local, but usually, if people say ‘the government’ without any embellishment, they’re referring to the central government. Local governments are numerous, so you have to specify which one you mean, but there’s only one central government.
And the Central Intelligence Agency… wait, what?
Shorten that to CIA, right?
…Just kidding. The CIA from back in the day was probably abbreviated as KCIA. I think it was also claimed that they were modeled after the American CIA.
And well, based on my meager knowledge, the human society here was a jumbled mishmash of Korea, where I used to live, along with a blend of politics resembling the U.S., with a dash of European-style buildings sprinkled in, so it wouldn’t be surprising to find an institution comparable to the CIA.
Plus, the CIA was surprisingly subject to criticism within the U.S. itself. Anyway.
“So what’s your name…?”
“Call me Carolyn.”
I’d risk a credit just for the fact that that name might not even be her real one. Also, she omitted her last name. But even if she didn’t intend to give her surname, it wouldn’t be odd to assume she was concealing both.
“…In that case, Carolyn, have you considered that your presence here is rather unreasonable?”
Sending a female agent to a convent could be seen as thoughtful, but that doesn’t permit a non-nun to just drop in. The only ones allowed in a convent are visitors permitted by the Mother Superior or the orphans from the convent’s affiliated orphanage.
And those orphaned kids from the convent barely ever go outside, so technically they’re more part of the convent than visitors.
Even if there was permission, there was no way anyone could just waltz into a place with nuns. Just like Selena had done before, they should be waiting amicably in the reception room near the convent.
Overall, within this church… no, in the entire church and government, I was the only one with an abnormal amount of freedom. The church was incredibly closed and conservative. Especially when it came to outsiders, they were even more rigid.
So to have someone affiliated with the government, of all places—the very people acting as their underlings—entering with such ease made her seem completely devoid of common sense.
“Then please, would you read this?”
“…”
What Carolyn handed me was a document.
More like a short, stiff note that seemed tailored to be easily held and read as if it was transcribed on an index card. While it wasn’t a complete postcard, it contained all the necessary information.
[Dear Saintess, I apologize for conveying this message in such a manner.
There are undoubtedly numerous laws in this world to follow, but in this urgent time, adhering to all of them would result in losing far too much. It is unfortunate that many demons have been discovered within government-affiliated organizations. All of the members from our central government’s executive side are grateful for your hard work in unveiling those demons.
We would love to express our gratitude formally, but as a symbolic figure representing one of the two pillars upholding human society, it would be disrespectful for us to offer praise directly. Thus, we ask for your understanding in our inability to formally express our gratitude. Directly offering something to an equal could risk diminishing the status of the one receiving it.
However, informally, as mere believers, it is no trouble for us to convey our gratitude to you, dear Saintess. I am earnestly looking forward to meeting you as a fellow believer in the Goddess.
Since there has been no response to our formal request, I thought perhaps you might prefer such an informal request, so I apologize for being rude and make this request nonetheless. Would you consider discussing with us?
—Adrian Miller]
For reference, Adrian Miller is the President.
After reading that hand-written postcard thoroughly, I slapped my palm against my forehead. It seems the politician took the refusal of their formal request to mean they should try again informally. Isn’t it more reasonable to just take the rejection at face value?
And also, the whole notion of “not wanting to treat an equal with disrespect” was ridiculous. If they thought like that, then that whole business with the minister signing off on the Pope’s request wouldn’t have happened.
It was clear that all of the government’s actions were aimed at trying to stand above the church… no, they probably already thought they stood above the church. If that weren’t the case, they would have approached me much more cautiously.
I sighed deeply, returning the postcard to Carolyn as I spoke.
“No, I won’t meet. Please submit all requests through official channels, via the church. The statement, ‘I do not wish to meet’ is literally what it means. I’m still a student, and until I graduate, I won’t accept any position other than that of a Saintess.”
I had no idea what the President was thinking. Perhaps he wanted to sway me under government control or persuade me into a pro-government stance.
The gradual diminishment of the church’s power over the last 50 years had caused authority to tilt towards the government due to the absence of a saint born within that same timeframe. Saints affiliated with the church were comparable to nuclear weapons in terms of leverage against the forces of demons, and thus, the government could never outright ignore the power of the church.
However, since no saint emerged, the title of humanity’s protector almost entirely shifted to the government. The church’s personnel weren’t completely inactive on the frontlines, sacrificing their lives, but still, it was the government forces and the heroes they nurtured who shed the most blood.
In fact, it was the government that held the authority to unleash artillery and bombs. When a saint or saintess existed, that one individual could clean up the battlefield, prominently demonstrating the church’s vital role, but without any such figure, it meant that the government largely began undertaking the extermination of beasts and demons.
“… Is that so.”
Carolyn accepted the letter silently.
“And, I may not know much about the law, but surely entering a convent without proper permission is quite rude. Although the balance of power between the government and the church doesn’t always hold equal weight, for the last 300 years, the church and government have recognized each other as equals. Hence, the government ought to respect the church’s etiquette as well. This current situation hardly reflects that.”
And if they thought this manner of request could intimidate me, that would be a total failure.
I’m not just some clueless teenage girl. Even if it’s been less than a year, I’ve managed to navigate societal waters, have military experience, and most importantly, I’ve faced all sorts of bizarre situations since coming here for just about six months.
Having seen the Pope kneeling before me and still opting to run away, of course, I could easily refuse an invitation to dine with the president—
“I’m aware that the amount you receive monthly as a Saintess is rather low compared to the work you do.”
Easily—
“We could offer you several times that amount.”
…
600,000 won multiplied by several times…?
If it were just double, I’d be dreaming of hitting a million— err, wait.
You guys! Do you think I’m an easy mark?
The position of a Saintess is functionally equivalent to that of the Pope. Sure, from the way they’re treating me, it appears they believe I hold a higher rank, but for now, let’s set that aside.
Of course, I don’t view this position favorably. Honestly, more and more responsibilities are piling up, and I feel an increasing need to be cautious, so it’s not something I want.
However, accepting that money…
Isn’t it just an offer to place me under the President?
You might think it’s nice to be recognized for my abilities and be compensated, but it’s a whole different ballgame if the treatment is subpar. While it won’t be a total mess, by accepting that money, I’d essentially acknowledge my position beneath the president. It’s not a pleasant possibility to entertain.
And as I mentioned earlier, a saintess is on par with the Pope.
The mere act of approaching and saying, “We’ll offer you more money if you come work with us,” is essentially saying, “We’re looking down on you.”
Besides, I’ve stirred the pot with the government, so it’s unlikely my image in their eyes would be positive. I’d surely be bumping into people around, and not physically, if you catch my drift.
…Is fifty years really that long and harsh of a stretch? On paper, the church and government are equal, yet their perception regarding such matters has evolved foolishly to the point where they would outright ignore it?
Well, give or take 50 years, during which time a war-ravaged nation witnessed the rapid rise of multi-story buildings. By the time I die, Microsoft would have barely been established for 40 years. It wouldn’t be surprising if political structures took so long to cement themselves that mindsets became static.
But that’s neither here nor there.
My anger is still valid.
“… If you overstep your bounds one more time, I won’t entertain any prospect of dialogue with the government ever again.”
While I can tolerate this since they’re human, if they were demons, my broomstick would already be shattered from swinging at them. Well… if it were a human, I’d be tempted to give them a piece of my mind— ah, wait. I actually already have a record of that, don’t I?
“…”
I’m uncertain whether I was perceived as too young or if they genuinely held the belief that they were somehow above the church. Probably both.
Realizing I was no pushover, Carolyn finally bent her waist and said, “I apologize. That was rude of me.”
It would have been great if they’d realized it was rude from the get-go.
“Well, then you may go. I’ll consider this matter settled, as long as nothing else arises.”
The reason I say it’s settled and not that I’m rejecting it is to indicate that if this isn’t put to rest, I’ll hold you accountable for your previous lapse.
“…”
With her head bowed in silence, Carolyn turned and left without any lingering sentiment.
Standing in front of the prayer room’s door was the Mother Superior. She must have listened in from the middle; her face greeted me with a serene smile that basically read ‘You did well.’
Seriously, if you were here, couldn’t you have just booted her out?
Surely, she watched because she trusted me to handle it well.
With a long sigh, I mentally steeled myself to go back to cleaning, only to take a startled step backward when the nearby nuns approached me, their earlier discomfort forgotten, their eyes sparkling.
“Saintess, you were amazing…!”
As if someone had triggered that, the nuns, whose names I didn’t even know, started to gush in a flurry of squeals—
Together until the Mother Superior cleared her throat loudly, sending the gathered nuns scattering like startled mice.
*
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I’m thinking of escaping.”
With Lynn and Aurora sitting in front of me, I solemnly declared.
That’s right. I felt terribly uncomfortable with the government’s attitude. Ever since then, they’ve been sending more official requests through the church nearly every few days, whenever I’d almost forgotten. As if they were blatantly holding ill sentiments towards me, I really didn’t want to face anyone of them.
“Um… So where to?”
My confident proclamation momentarily left Aurora speechless until she finally managed to ask.
Hmm.
I hadn’t actually thought about that part.
My priority was to argue that I didn’t have time to meet with anyone. That way, the moment I go to refuse, they wouldn’t be able to challenge my refusal.
And, it had to be somewhat formal. The more official the action is seen among people, the harder it’ll be for them to deny it.
Since it’s formal, it must have legitimate reasoning.
…But they would likely reject any proposal for me to return to the battlefield, as both the government and the church see me as a crucial being that they cannot afford to lose.
“Well, we’ll have to brainstorm. Can you give me some ideas?”
When I said this with a serious expression, Linea ended up pressing her forehead in frustration.
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