Thanks to Sieghart’s insanely high attack power, I was completely drained, but as the headache gradually subsided, I somehow managed to pull myself together.

“I-I’m… okay now. Sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to push yourself. Want to lie down for a bit?”

I’m extremely grateful for the concern, but please hold off for now. Any more overkill and my heart will literally go kyuu and die. This body’s heart was already stabbed once and stopped; overloading it would be too pitiful.

I took a deep breath and steadied my swaying consciousness. Straightening my posture, I gave Sieghart a weak smile.

“Thank you, Sieghart-san. I’m really fine now.”

“You’re still pale. Even if you think you’re okay, if I decide you’re pushing it, I’m making you rest immediately.”

(Ehhh—)

What overprotectiveness. Sure, Isaac ordered him to guard me, but this feels a bit much. In the end he sat down right next to me again.

While inwardly tilting my head, I turned back to Isaac.

“Captain, sorry for interrupting earlier. You said you had something to ask me?”

“Miss Nagi, you truly don’t have to force yourself.”

At the worried muscle-gentleman’s words, I smiled a little.

“It’s not that I feel sick. It’s just that every time I remember something I’d forgotten, my head hurts… Oh, right.”

I clapped my hands together.

“About that white-haired, red-eyed mage you mentioned. He’s the one who chopped me up in the forest, so could you thoroughly interrogate him for attempted murder?”

“…Huh?”

Isaac tilted his head. For a muscle-gentleman, it was adorably calculated. I almost reflexively gave him a thumbs-up and yelled “Nice!”

“I just remembered a little. Getting slapped by a sexy blonde beauty with a teardrop mole. When I woke up earlier, I also remembered being cut down by that mage in the forest…”

Remembering how I’d puked in the toilet made me grimace and cover my mouth. Then I tilted my head again.

“Wait… why am I alive?”

The heartless administrator wearing my brother’s face said my soul instantly revived this heart-stopped body. But I’d been thoroughly, lovingly diced—there’s no way I should be walking around. I’m glad to be alive, but it makes zero sense.

That white mage had spouted all sorts of infuriating nonsense, but going that far out of his way to mince me was just awful. What on earth did he have against Rio?

“…Miss Nagi.”

Isaac’s voice trembled faintly.

“When Juliane Flockhart was captured, she apparently screamed this: ‘We already killed the real Saintess. Serves you right. May the crown prince who never loved me, and everyone in this country, suffer and die.’”

My eyes went perfectly round. I thought criminals who instantly confess upon arrest only existed in two-hour TV dramas.

But even more concerning—

“What kind of cheap, jealousy-oozing breakup line is that?”

“That’s not the point!! Hey, Captain! That makes it sound like Nagi is the real Saintess…!”

Isaac raised a hand to silence Sieghart, who had half-stood and shouted.

“Miss Nagi, a Saintess is a being specialized in regulating natural mana flow. Therefore, they normally cannot use ordinary offensive or defensive magic.”

That’s why, he continued in a low voice,

“Saintesses are customarily guarded by their country’s strongest force as living shields. In our nation, that duty would fall to us, the Mage Knight Order.”

“Eh?”

I let out a dumb sound and opened my eyes even wider. Emerald eyes stared straight at me.

“We examined the clothes you were wearing. There were multiple tears consistent with fatal wounds and more than a lethal amount of blood. If, despite that, you completely healed such injuries with high-level healing magic… That would be nothing short of a miracle.”

“Healing magic…”

Healing fatal wounds completely? Such ridiculous magic exists? …Come to think of it, the heartless administrator had also called me being alive a miracle.

I was shocked all over again, but then remembered: this is a world with instant long-distance teleportation—pretty much Doraemon doors. Magic here seems to bring far greater benefits to society than in my birth world.

(Oh yeah, there’s that idiotically huge floating magical city—or airborne fortress—casually hovering over the capital, right? Real-life Laputa! Hell yeah! I wanna see it!)

My thoughts almost flew off in a completely different direction, but now’s not the time.

Realizing a new problem, I drooped my eyebrows.

“Are Saintesses paid enough to hire your entire knight order?”

“………………Huh?”

Isaac’s eyes widened; Sieghart plopped back down beside me.

“I understand you need guards because Saintesses can’t protect themselves, and I’m just an orphan who’s never even properly fought. You apparently go to pretty dangerous places too. But if I have to pay dangerous-duty salaries to all of you fine knights… I have no idea what the going rate is. So I’m happy to do Saintess work, but I’d really prefer to sneak around without anyone noticing—so no guards, please.”

Silence fell for a moment.

After a beat, Isaac started staring into the distance, and Sieghart groaned lowly.

“Hey… Nagi.”

“Yes?”

Rubbing his brow, Sieghart asked,

“So… do you actually realize you’re a Saintess?”

“I have no self-awareness of it. But the white mage who diced me up did call me a foolish Saintess, so at least some people think so. He also told me to be grateful he killed me before I could be gang-raped by a bunch of guys.”

Sieghart and Isaac simultaneously slammed their fists on the coffee table. BAM! With a dull crack, the coffee table ceased being a coffee table. …Thick wood shouldn’t be destroyable by human strength.

“Wow, impressive.”

When humans are too horrified, only the most generic exclamation comes out. As I stared wide-eyed at the ex-table, Sieghart slowly looked up, veins popping.

“…Listen well. From now on, if any filthy bastard looks at you the wrong way, report it to me immediately. I’ll beat the living shit out of him.”

“No, like I said, Sieghart-san—I’m a penniless orphan. I don’t know how much the country pays Saintesses, but I definitely can’t afford to hire elite knights like you, even on credit. I’d never save any money that way.”

Sieghart’s face turned extremely complicated as he muttered “salary…” Then he looked at the head-clutching Isaac.

“Captain. How much do Saintesses actually get paid?”

“…Saintesses are normally treated on the same level as royalty. As for compensation—or rather, allowance?… I’d have to check the palace records, but…”

Isaac, unusually hesitant, mumbled. I started feeling anxious.

“I absolutely refuse unpaid labor, okay? Saintess work seems pretty dangerous.”

“N-no, it’s not unpaid, exactly… Traditionally, Saintesses marry into the royal family. So the budget was budgeted as a royal bride rather than a Saintess salary, I think…”

Marry. Into royalty.

The instant I understood the implication, goosebumps exploded across my entire body.

“ABSOLUTELY NOTTTTT!!”

I stood up, fists clenched with my whole soul, and rejected it with every fiber of my being.

“I know how this goes! When a commoner marries into royalty or imperial families, nothing good ever happens! The media writes whatever garbage they want, privacy becomes zero! You get bullied by pure-blooded princesses and noble ladies around your husband, collapse from stress, lose your voice, or become unable to appear in public! So tragic! I’d rather never work as a Saintess than go through that!”

I love the very first Doraemon theme song the most.

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