Cecilia once naively believed that within the Church, as the Saintess, under the guidance of her teacher—Pope Yode III—humanity would gradually find the dawn of victory over the demon race.
She never expected this moment to come so soon.
“Will my teacher still come?”
“The Holy Father will not be coming.”
The leading knight spoke as he unrolled a document stamped with the seal of the Papal Hall.
“Saintess Cecilia, previously during battle against the demon race, was seduced by the Demon Lord Via, attempting to assassinate His Holiness the Pope. Henceforth, she is stripped of all her ecclesiastical titles and relieved of all duties, sentenced to death by hanging.”
An accusation without any concealment or pretense—it wasn’t even framing, because framing at least implies some basis… this was pure fabrication from thin air.
“My teacher really is calculating to the bone. Can you tell me why you’re treating me like this?”
“The Pope did not specify, but I can only guess in my personal capacity… your current reputation has overstepped some boundaries for the Church.”
The Saintess is the voice of the Holy Lord, one who comprehends divine oracles and communicates with the Holy Lord.
Her authority stems from divine power, not ecclesiastical power.
However, the Church’s current wealth and strength come from controlling ecclesiastical authority.
The Holy Crusade armies, which fight the demon race and heretics, were organized by secular powers under the Church’s leadership and support.
And now, the Saintess is too perfect.
So perfect that she holds immense influence over the Holy Crusade armies—almost everyone who knows the Saintess is willing to follow her.
Even more frightening, she represents divine authority—while the Church’s religious interpretations don’t necessarily follow the Holy Lord’s will entirely.
“I understand,” the Saintess lifted her head, a bitter smile playing on her exquisite face.
“Sorry, I have to leave.”
“Regrettably, His Holiness the Pope has ordered us— you… you cannot go anywhere.”
The holy knights raised their weapons.
Those who once guarded her like brothers-in-arms now seemed strangers, and with a mere order, she and these former comrades were at swords’ points.
It was truly laughable.
“I’m sorry…”
The Saintess whispered, then the holy blade in her hand flashed coldly.
***
“Extra! Extra! Our mighty and unfathomable Demon Lord Via has once again toyed with the ridiculous Saintess like a plaything!”
“Seven captures of the Saintess! A killing blow no one will ever witness!”
“Long live Lord Via! Glory belongs to Lord Via!”
In Saint Anselm City, one of the twelve holy cities once belonging to humanity but now thoroughly fallen, the demons clamored, spreading this exhilarating news.
As a Demon Lord, Via—the weakest of the thirteen—was ironically the most popular among them.
Her high level of attention came partly because that damn Demon King constantly boosted her profile, steering public opinion—he especially enjoyed seeing the former human hero now worshipped by demons.
Another reason was Via’s many eccentric behaviors.
For example, as a succubus, she remained a virgin, drinking blood every day.
For example, despite being able to defeat the Saintess and make her an untouchable servant, she always captured and released her repeatedly.
For example, at the royal court meetings, when the Demon King served her food, she turned the table; when the Demon King spoke, she sang…
In short, this succubus Demon Lord had been full of spectacle since her emergence among the demons.
At first, the demons were somewhat repelled by her, but later found her both down-to-earth and absurd, irresistibly drawn to her performances—so much so that every time she went to battle, it became a sensation.
Determined not to care about their chatter, Via prepared to fetch a bottle of fine wine from the cellar to soothe her restless mind.
“Trouble! Trouble! Demon Lord, it’s bad news!”
Just as she was about to retreat to her chamber to enjoy a peaceful afternoon, several demons burst in.
Via recognized them—they were elite warriors gifted to her by the Demon King, but right now, they looked anything but elite.
“Speak properly! What’s all this shouting?”
She maintained her basic dignity in front of them.
“Tell me clearly, what happened?”
“Saint… Saintess!”
One demon said in panic.
“The Saintess has broken in!”
Via nearly jumped out of her chair.
“How is that possible? The Saintess wouldn’t come on her own.”
“She’s already outside. She forced her way in… but it’s different somehow.”
“Hm?”
That was true—if it were like before, with that attitude, the whole city would have turned into chaos by now.
“Form up and don’t panic. I’ll go out to see.”
She went with her subordinates to the city gate and saw the Saintess from a distance—she had indeed broken in.
But she was just waiting under the gate, surrounded by the demons standing guard, all tightly enclosing the Saintess dressed in white.
As Via drew closer and examined the Saintess’s condition, a chill ran down her spine.
At this moment, the Saintess had lost all the sharpness and purity she once showed on the battlefield.
She looked utterly exhausted, her long, pale golden hair and pure white dress stained with blood.
The holy sword in her hand was chipped—never before had it been so damaged, even in battles against demons.
The lower part of her skirt was completely torn, exposing her fair, tender thighs.
Most unsettling was the Saintess’s once gem-like azure eyes, now dull and lifeless, as if stripped of their former brilliance.
Hiss…
What was she here for? Surely she wasn’t planning to fight her?
Via stepped forward cautiously, eyes sharp.
“I’ll give you one chance to explain why you broke in. Otherwise, I won’t be so polite.”
She raised her sword, voice cold. Even though the other appeared lost and broken, she had to remain rational.
Saintess Cecilia lifted her head, her voice hoarse with fatigue:
“Senior… could you let me stay here for a while?”
“…Sorry, I’m a demon. You don’t expect a wolf to let a rabbit sleep in the same den, do you?”
Technically, the Saintess calling her senior wasn’t wrong—Via had once been human fifty years ago, so she was indeed an elder to the young Saintess before her.
“I know it’s presumptuous, but…” Tears welled in the Saintess’s eyes. “I don’t know where else to go.”
Via frowned, about to speak, but caught the despair in those eyes.
“…Talk first, and don’t try anything funny. You’re not running away.”
The Saintess looked so pitiful, like an abandoned little dog.
After all, Via still had some human sympathy.
She really couldn’t resist that gaze and didn’t want to imagine how heartbroken the Saintess would be if she refused to take her in.
She softened.