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“…?”

Are adventurers usually so humble and reverent? I had imagined them as rough and uncouth, but here they seemed more like devout followers, awestruck by a divine miracle unfolding before them.

Well… while I’m aware that truly few people can perform purification and healing techniques, are these arts really considered so sacred that common folk feel compelled to show such extreme deference?

In general, people tend to think that those who can use purification and healing arts have reached this point through rigorous training and spiritual refinement, making them virtuous and saintly figures. But in my view, these abilities are simply a matter of compatibility and have little to do with one’s character.

So, even though I can purify, I really don’t think people should look at me through rose-colored glasses as some virtuous soul with a pure spirit. Frankly, I see myself as just a witch (or a magic user) who happens to be able to wield a slightly unusual set of spells. (When I mentioned this to Principal Mei, she cut me off with, “Your common sense is everyone else’s nonsense.”)

With such thoughts running through my mind, I continued moving through areas of confusion or where the undead were most concentrated, casting “Purify” on each of them in turn.

“Hey, isn’t that…?”
“…Yeah, no mistaking it.”
“She’s purifying them and all.”
“I mean, how could we be wrong about this?”
“It’s a miracle…”

The power of purification was incredibly effective, and the undead were dwindling in number like snow melting in front of a fire.

The adventurers and soldiers, saved from their dire situation, first stood there in a daze, as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. Then, when they realized it was my doing, they looked stunned and either dropped to one knee or, in some cases, trembled and prostrated themselves as if they’d encountered someone of high nobility.

―No, seriously, enough of that, just get back to work.

Thinking this, I continued purifying the undead and healing the injured whenever I spotted one. But I started to notice something strange… or rather, something unnerving about the atmosphere around me, and I discreetly asked Coppelia, who was walking behind me.

“Hey, don’t you think something’s off? Everyone’s being strangely quiet and overly respectful.”
“Hm? Isn’t this normal? A bunch of lowly commoners finally recognizing their place and acting humble. I’d say it’s about time. Isn’t this how it always is for you?”
“What kind of villainess do you think I am!? ―Also, I recall you saying the pendant’s recognition interference only partially works after being grabbed by Igoronak…”

Even without trying to listen, I could overhear snippets of conversation like:

“Isn’t that―”
“…Lady Clara!”
“Oh, the Shrine Maiden Princess has descended upon us in this time of crisis!”

…Yeah, I’m hearing some troubling words.

“Shouldn’t I look completely different from my original appearance to outsiders?!”

“That’s how it should be, yes…” Coppelia replied, tilting her head quizzically.

“If my calculations are correct, the bangs should be one centimerte longer than usual, the angle of your eyes two degrees sharper, your chest one size smaller, and your eye color should change from its usual blue to green—or if the reverse, from green to blue. Oh, and as a bonus, the skirt should be two centimertes shorter—”

Thud!

Without waiting for her to finish, I grabbed her head and delivered a knee strike, acting purely on a surge of murderous intent.

“““““UWOOOOHHH!!!! That merciless knee strike…! She is definitely Lady Clara!!”””””

A group of clergymen—older men and women—gasped in awe, their faces lighting up as they murmured among themselves.

No, hold on. That’s gotta be a mistake. In more ways than one.

Looking around, I caught sight of Viola and Lieselotte, escorted by a few idle soldiers, retreating toward the crumbling church with expressions that seemed bewildered, as if they’d fallen for some terrible trick. Meanwhile, Cestlavie, who was on the defensive, kept glancing at me with a puzzled look, tilting his head repeatedly.

To avoid complications later, I should probably deny everything and claim to be just a passing beauty who happens to be specializing in exorcisms. Once this is over, I’ll just make my escape on Vier and be done with it.

“You are mistaken! I am—”
“Lady Clara, watch out!!”

At the desperate shout, I instinctively ducked, relying on my senses, just in time as a massive scythe—a sickle not meant for combat but one scaled up from an agricultural tool—swept past where my chest had been.

Coppelia, caught on the end of the scythe, screamed, “Hyaaahhh!” as she was flung away, but she practically deserved it.

Meanwhile, as I rolled forward to dodge and put some distance from my assailant, I rose to find myself facing a towering ogre over two melts tall, a hulking mass of muscle wielding a weapon and wearing a strange mask.

“Watch out. Nothing we do affects him,” I think I heard Cestlavie’s voice warning me, but without panicking, I sidestepped the wide swing of the sickle again—it’s not like that weapon allows for much variety in attacks—slipping into its guard and delivering a kick to its weak spot.

“Gwaaargh—!”

As it staggered, the ogre threw a backhand at me, which I parried, letting my magic staff fall to the ground as I seized its upper arm with both hands, twisting hard to break the joint.

When it dropped to one knee in pain, I released its arm and spun around, slamming my elbow into the mask covering its face.

I felt a solid impact, as if smashing through pottery, and the mask on the ogre shattered into tiny pieces. I quickly distanced myself, picking up my staff and readying it once more.

“「O Prison of Ice, engulf all into your frozen wasteland」 — 「Freeze」”

As soon as I chanted the spell, frost covered the ogre’s entire body, turning it completely white before it shattered into pieces.

“Is it… defeated?”

A voice filled with disbelief murmured from the adventurers who had been watching from a safe distance. But almost immediately, it was replaced by an earth-shaking cheer.

“Uoooohhhhh!”
“As expected of Lady Clara!”
“To take down that monster in a single blow… no, a split second!”
“ “ “Lady Clara! Lady Clara!!” ” ”

They chanted, voices rising in unison.

“No, no, you’re mistaken! I’m not…”
“Ah, that was rough. Well, looks like you’ve finished off the riff-raff. No wonder they call you the Shrine Maiden Princess, Clara.”

At that moment, Coppelia staggered back over. Aside from a bit of dirt, she seemed completely unharmed—a testament to her unnecessary durability, I suppose.

With Coppelia repeatedly calling me Clara this, Clara that, most of those around us seemed to nod in agreement, as if saying, “Oh, so it really is Lady Clara after all.”

“Lady Clara, it’s been a long time. I am Don Simeon, a Bishop of the Saintess’ Church. Do you remember me?”

An elderly man in an expensive-looking cassock stepped forward from the group of clergy.

Actually, this is our first meeting.

“We had heard that you’d passed away, but we never truly believed it. To think we would be reunited in such a fateful place…”

Tears streamed down the face of the high-ranking cleric, and with others gathered behind him, I didn’t quite have the heart to loudly protest and told them they got the wrong person who just happened to look like Clara.

How on earth was I supposed to get out of this predicament?

And then—

‘You insolent fools—!!!’

With an earth-shattering roar of rage, Bartholomew was hurled effortlessly into the air, bouncing along the ground until he disappeared into the dark forest. The sound of trees breaking continued for a while, but before it ceased, a massive figure rose from the gaping hole in the ground—a figure that could only be described as a “black shadow.”

‘You all, remember that you are nothing but my prey! And you, Saintess! You especially will not be forgiven. I shall take every last drop of life force and magic from your body for myself!’

Facing Igoronak’s wrathful stance, I briefly found myself thinking, At least it’s a good distraction, so I don’t have to explain myself right now. Lucky me! Though, perhaps I was very, very mistaken.

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“Well then, I’ll be going… please take care of things while I’m gone.”

I gave a polite nod, and Luke responded stiffly, with a serious expression, “Yes, be careful.”

Hmm, he’s unusually tense, given the situation. It’s not exactly a good sign. A certain amount of tension is necessary for motivation, but too much can lead to tunnel vision or even freezing up. So…

“—Oh, and after I’m gone, just because no one’s watching, don’t go doing anything strange to Eren, okay?”

With a playful, mischievous smile, I decided to throw in a lighthearted joke to ease the tension. Well, I was half-serious about giving him a warning.

“Wha—!?”

Immediately, he turned red, flustered, glancing back and forth between my barely suppressed grin and Eren’s innocent, sleeping face at his feet.

Of course, I trust the gentlemanly Luke not to make a mistake, but Eren is adorable, after all. There’s always a chance, however slim. If I were a boy, I wouldn’t be able to leave her alone… I mean, I sometimes cuddle with Eren or Lana, cheek to cheek, just for fun. But if a guy did that, it would definitely be a crime (I’m genuinely glad I was born a girl in this world; I consider it a fortunate privilege). So I encouraged a little restraint from him, just in case.

“Well, if you must, make sure to get her consent and properly promise a future together.”

It’s a classic plot device from plays, but if any noble tried to take advantage of a maid using their status and position, I would never tolerate such behavior even if pigs start flying—well, I’m riding a flying dog, but my point still stands.

“I’d never do that! Besides, the only one I have feelings for is you, Jill! I’d never even consider anyone else!”

Luke declared firmly. It seemed even he was surprised by his own confession, as he quickly covered his mouth.

“Yes…?”
“Ah—!”

“ “……” ” A heavy silence settled around the bell tower.

Suddenly, BOOM! An ear-splitting crash resounded nearby, and when I looked, I saw that Coppelia’s rocket punch had shattered a nearby wall.

“You’ve got some nerve canoodling in front of me…!!”

Whether it’s some function of hers, or perhaps a creepy phenomenon brought on by her inner grudges, I couldn’t say—but she appeared to be crying tears of blood.

“…we’re not exactly canoodling or anything.”

I had an overwhelming urge to kick Coppelia and her dramatic tantrum away, but I barely managed to restrain myself, and the shock allowed me to regain my usual composure.

Seeing my disgruntled expression, Luke’s face suddenly turned pale, as if he’d misunderstood something. “Uh, Jill… Did I upset you?”

“No.”

I made sure to shake my head and express my true feelings. Luke is usually so competent, almost superhumanly so, but when it comes to matters of romance, he becomes strangely timid. I’m not sure why—it’s almost as if he’s a protagonist worn out from dealing with oblivious and hard-of-hearing heroines. All the more reason for me to put my feelings into words and make myself clear.

“Regardless of our current circumstances… and how impulsively you said it, there’s no way I wouldn’t be happy to receive your affection.”

Luke winced, clutching his head and writhing in embarrassment. It seemed he was aware this was a slip-up.

“I, too, have some feelings for you, Luke. That said, being confessed to in the middle of a battlefield doesn’t give me much time to sort out my feelings. Can we talk about it again once things have settled down?”

To be honest, I wonder if Luke’s feelings right now are just a misunderstanding—like maybe Stockholm syndrome, or that thing about bridges and scary situations. Given the circumstances, it feels a bit hard to trust his words right now.

“Y-, yeah, you’re right. I-, I’m sorry for bringing this up at a time like this.”

Luke’s face flushed slightly again as he bowed his head repeatedly. Hmm… Well, once things settle down, we might gain some clarity on both of our feelings.

Meanwhile, behind us, Copelia was still spewing hatred, shouting, “Damn it!” and “If hatred could kill someone!” while randomly firing her rocket punches, which was incredibly annoying.

Ah, the student council president just got knocked out by her rocket punch right when he poked his head out from the hole.

Goodness, now he’s out cold, but the surrounding students just gave him a fleeting glance and completely ignored him. Am I imagining things, or does it seem like his already nonexistent popularity has hit rock bottom…? I can’t shake the feeling that his very humanity is being denied.

Once we returned, he might face not just a recall but a whole coup d’état from the student body.

In any case, I left the scene and moved forward with Vier toward the chaotic courtyard of the church.

♦♢♦♢

Isn’t something strange about this…? That was my impression as I landed on the scene.

Because I had rushed to heal everyone in my sight where allies and enemies were all mixed together—which is definitely something to reflect on. I judged that healing was needed quickly, or some of them would be far too defenseless. It may not have been the best decision, but it was at least the second-best choice, right?—the surroundings fell into chaos, and no coordination could be achieved between allies and enemies, resulting in each person engaging with the nearest opponent.

Basically, the adventurers and soldiers who had been unconscious suddenly woke up to find themselves face-to-face with the undead. Whilst the undead also found their enemies suddenly sprang up, making them flail their weapons like a child throwing a tantrum.

As a result, the battle became a mudslinging match. Well, since the number of adventurers and soldiers is overwhelmingly large, I believe that once the initial confusion settles down, we should be able to wipe out the undead without any problem…

“Quaw wse drftgy fuji ko lp!!”
“HoWAeawAEeewaAAahhh!!!”
“●※□＃▲〒＊～～～!!”

The confusion seems to be quite intense. Huh.

“「O celestial bell, send these impure souls back to the underworld with thine eternal melody」— 「Purify」”

As soon as Vier landed on the ground, I leaped off and cast purification on the undead I spotted—a pair of former adventurers who were holding weapons and a larger one that was likely the carcass of the meran-aries we saw earlier in the day.

Golden flames engulfed the undead from their feet up, and as they were consumed, a look of peace seemed to settle on the faces of these once-dead figures. As the flames ascended and vanished into the sky, they returned to being mere corpses and crumbled to the ground. Even the meran-aries bore a gentle expression as it departed.

Seeing that, I let out a sigh of relief. I’d learned the technique long ago during my training days with Regina, from an elderly woman known as the “Grand Shrine Maiden” who resides in the distant sacred land of the Beastkin. However, I’d never had the chance to use it until now (zombies aren’t exactly common, and simple ghosts can usually be purified with healing art). So, it was my first real test, and I’m glad it went well.

Well, I’m sure half of the success is due to the power of this Tiara of Starflower.

“Very well. This anti-Igoronak gear I crafted is performing splendidly. Keep clearing out these small fry, Clara!”

Behind me, the instigator of all this, Coppelia, stood with an air of pride, pointing at the wandering undead and giving orders as if she owned the place.

At this point… isn’t it about time I shoot her from behind?

“Please don’t call them small fry. They’re unfortunate victims, after all!” And ultimately, you’re the cause of all this in the first place!

At my somewhat exasperated shout, three adventurers who had just witnessed their undead comrades being purified looked as though they’d been struck to the core. They suddenly knelt down with reverence, bowing their heads.

“…Thank you.”
“How blessed they must be”
“To be purified by your exalted self.”

Author’s Note:

The Beastfolk’s Grand Shrine Maiden and Regina have been friends for a long time.

Incidentally, she is a lion-type beastfolk and also the mother of nine sons and twelve daughters (though a few have already passed away). Her husband held the title of “Beast King,” the highest title among the beastfolk. However, he passed away fairly young, leaving her a widow (the status of a beastfolk priestess is not influenced by marriage).

After his death, the “Beast King” title remained vacant for a while, and disputes arose over who would inherit the Beast King’s Gauntlet—whether it should go to a disciple or a blood relative. In the end, the title is now held by one of her great-grandchildren.