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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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