In the year since enrolling at Kizen, Simon prided himself on having met every strange person he would ever encounter in his lifetime.
But this woman, who identified herself as a Saintess, was peculiar even among them.
A gruesome burn that didn’t look like it was from any normal fire, and two eyes sewn shut and sealed with an X of thread. Still, she didn’t seem to be blind; her eyes were slightly open through the loosened stitches.
"Hmhmhm—heh."
Making a strange noise as she slouched, she looked as though she had mixed blood. Her ears were long, and heavy, clinking accessories dangled from them.
’...This is the Saintess of Harvest.’
Watching her, Simon broke out in a cold sweat.
’Something’s...’
He thought of the Saintesses he knew: Anna, the Saintess of Miracles; Israphel, the Saintess of the Divine Sea; and Lethe, the Saintess of Stars.
Compared to them, this Saintess’s appearance was bizarre beyond belief.
’But she’s strong.’
An artifact seemed to be suppressing her Divinity, but even so, an otherworldly power radiated from her body. Kajan looked like he was struggling just to be near her, standing a step behind Simon.
"You’re the one who’s supposed to guide me, is that right—?"
Her words trailed off in a lazy drawl.
The initial shock of meeting a Saintess faded, and Simon quickly nodded.
"Yes, that’s correct."
It had already been arranged. Nephthys’s agents had planned for Simon and Kajan, both active students, to guide her, as it would be less conspicuous.
"...Still, this is unexpected," Kajan said, habitually scratching at his scar. "I didn’t think one of the seven great Saintesses herself would make a personal visit."
"That’s how seriously our side is taking this situation, yeah."
The Saintess picked up a plump chicken leg from the table with a ’thump’.
"If that ’Ever Kire’ has really entered Roc Island—"
With a ’crunch’, she tore into the chicken leg like an animal, ripping away the well-cooked brown skin and white flesh.
"It’s ruin, yeah. The end result will be a war between the Federation and the Alliance."
"Does the Holy Federation know about this?"
"No way, yeah. This is an unofficial visit, a personal trip. I came at the request of sister Israphel."
Simon’s eyes lit up.
’So Aunt Israphel is involved after all!’
If she, who opposed war more than anyone, had stepped in, then he could trust this. Kajan seemed to recognize the name as well, for he nodded.
"Then we owe a great debt to the Saintess of the Divine Sea."
"Yeeeah."
She was about to take another bite when wheat suddenly began to sprout from the chicken leg’s flesh. The Saintess of Harvest scowled and slammed it down on the plate with a ’thud’.
"I hate vegetables."
Simon broke into a nervous sweat.
’What is this person even saying?’
Perhaps her suppressed authority had activated. Not only the food, but wheat was also beginning to sprout in spots throughout the cave, making the gloomy space surprisingly bright.
"Can’t you do something about those?" Kajan asked, gesturing at the wheat.
The Saintess of Harvest fiddled with the choker around her neck.
"Take it up with this artifact, yeah. It’s supposed to seal a Saintess’s power, but it’s not very effective."
Simon knew what it was instantly.
’It’s the same necklace Lethe wore.’
He recalled the choker Lethe had worn in the Holy Federation, the one that sealed a Saintess’s power. It had the same design. Looking again, it also resembled the necklace Lorraine used to seal her own Innate Ability.
"Then let’s get down to business," Kajan said, cutting to the chase. "We will move around Roc Island together, searching for traces of the fanatic. I’d like you to focus on detection."
It was said that as long as the Saintess of Harvest’s bare feet were on the ground, she could sense every person standing on the earth within a certain radius—a range vast enough to cover all of Roc Island.
"Leave the combat to me, Simon, and the other necromancer agents. If someone of your stature were to use Divinity to fight, it would draw too much attention."
"Yeeeah," she replied in a languid voice, her arms hanging limp. "But here’s the fundamental question—"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Can you people even beat Ever Kire?"
Kajan’s eyebrow twitched.
"Of course. In the unlikely event that we can’t, as long as we confirm her location, backup from Crow-level necromancers will arrive immediately."
"She’s not an opponent you can beat just by having more people or stronger forces, yeah."
The Saintess of Harvest smiled.
"You all need to understand why sister Israphel sent ’me’."
"Uh..."
"For now, I’ll try it your way," she said, rising from her seat. "The real question is whether we can even find her in the first place."
Simon, Kajan, and the Saintess of Harvest went outside and started walking.
Her appearance was so conspicuous that they had her wear a simple brown hooded robe. Simon walked beside her, as if to shield her from the crowd.
Whether on the street or the carriage road, wherever she walked barefoot, unseasonal wheat sprouted. Simon was so busy trying to covertly stomp it out that he could barely think straight.
’Lethe used to trail stars wherever she went. Are all Saintesses like this?’
"Heeeh—"
She let out a deflated sigh and waddled along. Deciding she was an inscrutable person, he tried to strike up a conversation.
"As the Student Council President, I’d like to thank you once again, Your Holiness. I never imagined you would come all this way to help us."
The Saintess of Harvest glanced at him.
"No need to thank me, yeah. We have to clean up the oddball that escaped our management."
Simon hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking, "That person you mentioned... Israphel, who sent you. What kind of person is she?"
"Ah, my sister?" She tilted her head. "A necromancer is curious about all sorts of things, yeah."
Simon snapped back to reality. He had been so focused on her bizarre nature that he’d forgotten—fundamentally, Priests, by their doctrine, denied the very existence of necromancers and held an extreme aversion to them.
"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."
"Sister Israphel is—" the Saintess of Harvest said abruptly, "a hopelessly kind person, yeah."
"...Ah."
"And an idealist. No matter how much you want to prevent a war, sending one of the seven Saintesses to an enemy nation... that’s not a decision one makes lightly. It’s treason, yeah."
Simon swallowed hard, his face stiffening. He felt an overwhelming conviction that he absolutely must not let anyone find out about the Saintess of Harvest. He had to, for the sake of Israphel, who had gone to such lengths to help them.
The conversation died, and they walked in an awkward silence. All around them, people enjoying the festival ran about noisily. From a nearby stadium, the announcer’s shouts and the crowd’s passionate cheers poured out.
"Looks fun, yeah," she muttered in a soulless voice.
"I-It is, isn’t it? Would you like me to tell you a little about the festival?"
"No need for that, yeah."
And then, silence again.
Simon, sneaking glances at the Saintess, decided to quietly bring up the topic he’d been wanting to discuss.
"Um, come to think of it, in the Holy Federation, there’s someone who became a Saintess just recently."
"Ah, the Saintess of Stars?"
Simon managed to hide his delight and simply nodded.
"She was pretty, yeah."
It was a simple impression from a senior Saintess.
"Have you ever met her?"
"Nope, yeah. She’s still a student. I’ve only seen her in pictures."
"...I see."
"And I’ve heard a lot about her from sister Israphel." The Saintess of Harvest closed her eyes. "That she’s a talent worthy of being her successor."
As they talked, they arrived at the location the Saintess had mentioned: a sandy beach with a view of the sea.
"This should be about right, yeah."
The Saintess could sense all living beings on the ground she stood on, but to pinpoint a Priest like Ever Kire, who was hiding her Divinity within a crowd, the method was more complex. She had to create a formula in a specific area to fully exert her authority.
"I’ll begin, yeah," she said, standing on the sand.
The people who had been swarming nearby suddenly began to leave, one by one.
Simon watched, his eyes wide.
"What did you do?"
"I changed the aura of the place, yeah." She patted her shoulder. "It makes people feel like they want to get away from here."
"...Oh."
"Step back, yeah. It could be dangerous for necromancers."
Simon and Kajan retreated, and the Saintess of Harvest began her work.
Her leg drew a circle with herself at the center. She then lowered her body and began to draw within the circle, her hands sweeping across the sand.
She moved as if entranced, her eyes closed, her motions like a dance. Wherever her hands and feet moved, they left marks in the sand, creating a picture and a formula.
’This is...!’
It was a map. She was drawing a map with just her movements.
She then raised her fingertips, gathered Divinity, and let a single drop fall onto one spot on the map.
White Divinity spread across the sand like a wave. A strange light flickered in her stitched-shut eyes.
"Found it, yeah. A divine reaction."
Not expecting her to find it in one go, Simon and Kajan rushed over.
The entire map on the sand had turned white, except for one part that remained the color of sand. She pointed to the unchanged area.
"It’s here, yeah. I’m new to Roc Island, so I don’t know where it is."
"That’s near Serute Stadium," Kajan said, recognizing it instantly. He shot to his feet. "It’s right nearby. We have to go now."
"Wait a minute, Kajan!" Simon turned back. "What about the Saintess...!"
"Don’t worry about me, just go, yeah," the Saintess of Harvest said with a light wave of her hand. "I can’t help much since I’d have to use Divinity to fight. If the situation gets serious, I’ll join in."
"Isn’t it too dangerous for you to be alone?"
She let out a small laugh.
"What do you take me for, necromancer?"
One of only seven Saintesses in the world. It was almost laughable for her to have an escort. Since she put it that way, Simon nodded.
"Still, it’s dangerous around here, so please stay put, Your Holiness!"
"Yeeeah."
He saw her nod with a yawn. Kajan immediately reported their location through his communication crystal and requested protection for the Saintess.
A park near Serute Stadium was lined with street stalls.
Most people were watching the games, so the park wasn’t very crowded. Simon and Kajan scanned the area, searching for anyone suspicious.
’Who is it?’
A Priest was definitely here, but they couldn’t tell exactly who it was. Simon walked with a feigned casualness, but his eyes darted around frantically.
’Who’s the Priest? Who is it?!’
A couple whispering on a bench, two parents talking with their uniformed daughter, men buying food from a stall, minions running off after receiving reports through communication crystals.
There was no way to tell.
’Do I have to take everyone here?’
Simon bit his lip.
’For what reason? With what authority? If they’re not right here, they could just slip away after hearing the commotion. What do I do?’
He looked up. The match would be over soon, and spectators would pour out of the stadium. Once the crowd mixed, they would never find her.
Kajan had already run ahead, checking the faces of people he deemed suspicious, but that method alone was too uncertain.
’...Right.’
An idea flashed in Simon’s mind.
He quickly ducked into a nearby public restroom. Thankfully, it was empty.
Simon closed his eyes.
’I can do anything.’
Divinity bloomed in his right hand with a soft hum.
’I’ll lure the fanatic out with bait.’
No matter how devout she was, she would never expect a necromancer to be able to use Divinity.

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