The Excommunicated Saint Wants to Lose

An unfamiliar ceiling.
Moreover, it was old and dingy, so as soon as I opened my eyes, I felt unpleasant.

Where is this?
I held my throbbing head and sat up, and a small room came into view.

Shabby walls and floor, just like the ceiling.
A somewhat damp and stiff bed.

It seemed to be an inn.
The kind of room you’d stay in when you give up on comfortable rest and opt for cheap accommodation.

‘Why am I in a place like this…’

I figured out where I was, but questions still remained.

To relieve the stuffiness, I first opened the window to bask in the warm spring sunlight.
Then I activated my brain, still groggy from sleep.

The goal was to assess the situation and analyze the cause.
My slightly staggering conjecture pulled out the memories of last night that were shrouded in fog.

“Ah.”

Yesterday, I drank heavily with Giff and wandered the streets of Serda.
I was so drunk that I couldn’t control my body properly, but my mind was clear.

Even though I was excommunicated, a saint is still a saint.
I wasn’t swayed by mere intoxication.

However, I was greatly affected by the nauseating feeling caused by excessive drinking.
Thanks to that, I decided not to recall the mess I made by vomiting on the roadside.

Sighing deeply, I felt a bit embarrassed as I remembered Giff’s trouble in putting me in this inn.

It was a situation that felt a bit too guilty to just ignore.
I clasped my hands in front of my chest and closed my eyes.

“Even I think I behaved disgracefully this time. I’m sorry.”

After a brief pause, I opened my mouth again.

“But since I’m already excommunicated, can’t I do as I please? If you dislike this side of me, please accept me back.”

I waited quietly, just in case.
Of course, there was no noble response to be heard.

“Are you awake?”

At that moment, a deep, low voice was heard from outside the door.
I hadn’t particularly been waiting, but since he was a helpful orc, I immediately opened the door.

“You look terrible.”

Giff clicked his tongue as soon as he entered the room.

“Go wash up a bit. This inn even has a washroom, you know.”

I glanced at the mirror hanging on the wall and met eyes with a sickly-looking woman suffering from a hangover.

Damn.
Even to my own eyes, I looked incredibly messy.

“I just woke up. I was about to wash up.”
“You must be the strongest in the continent when it comes to not living up to your looks.”

Criticism based on compliments had the effect of oddly twisting one’s mood.
But I couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so I just roughly tidied my disheveled hair.

“The smell of alcohol is overwhelmingly strong.”

This time, Giff held his nose.

“Change your clothes, will you?”
“Did you come here to nag?”

He’s not my parent or anything.
I complained slightly, feeling annoyed.

“At least maintain some minimum level of dignity while living.”
“……”
“Don’t make that face. I’m saying all this for your own good.”
“Alright.”

I quickly nodded, sensing that if I showed any dissatisfaction, he would continue on.

“I figured this would happen, so I prepared some clothes for you to wear. Go wash up and change.”

Now that I looked, there was a plain linen shirt and cotton pants placed next to the bed.

“This isn’t necessary.”
“That outfit of yours stands out too much, doesn’t it?”
“Well, that’s true, but…”

The nun’s habit I’m currently wearing wasn’t an ordinary garment.
It was the order’s sacred artifact ‘Sun Catcher’, made for the saint.

“Take this opportunity to change into normal clothes.”
“No. This is the only proof left that I was a saint.”

I slightly bowed my head with a bitter smile.

“How can you say that? Honestly, isn’t it because it’s comfortable?”
“Ah, I told you before, didn’t I?”

In fact, it was so useful in many ways that I didn’t want to part with it.

The design itself was the same as a regular nun’s habit, except that deep red was used where black would normally be.

However, its convenience was far from ordinary.
Psychological stability effect, automatic repair, sturdy defense, and so on.
It had performance that rivaled even decent magical equipment.

That’s why I secretly slipped away with it instead of returning it when I was excommunicated.

“These days, the order is desperate to get the sacred artifact back.”
“Really? That’s convenient.”
“What do you mean by convenient?”
“Did you forget what I said yesterday?”
“…Good heavens.”

A reaction tinged with bewilderment.
I could see his pupils shaking with unease.

“Wasn’t that just drunk talk? Are you really going to fight Derk?”

Derk, ‘The Holy Knight of Evil Destruction’.
He was already renowned even before I became a saint.

Although I’ve never met him in person, I know enough about who he is.
He was often a topic of conversation among my fellow nuns during my time at the convent.

Holy power that shines nobly.
A pure mindset.
Diligence in never neglecting training.
They say he possesses all the virtues a holy knight should have.

A hero who is both righteous and strong.
In other words, he was perfect for defeating the evil known as the ‘Excommunicated Saint’.

“Judging by your expression, it seems trying to stop you would be futile.”
“So what are you going to do? Choose one: either hinder me or help me.”

While receiving help would be preferable, having obstacles thrown in my way wouldn’t be too bad either.
Wouldn’t an increase in difficulty also increase the chances of defeat?

“I’ll help you. I need to keep an eye on you since I don’t know what you might do.”

After long deliberation, Giff chose to become an assistant.

“However, if you cause meaningless bloodshed, I’ll immediately become your enemy.”
“Will you hate me?”
“Of course. I’ll cut ties with you right away.”

That would be troublesome.
I wanted to lose, not become estranged.

“I only take out those who act like jerks, so don’t worry.”
“…I wish you’d fix your way of speaking too.”
“I’ll think about it.”

I cut off the nagging that was about to start again and threw on the robe that was neatly folded beside the bed.

I was secretly relieved that he didn’t say ‘Go wash up first’.

“Let’s go.”

I pulled down the hood attached to the robe and pushed the orc’s characteristically large back.

“Guide me to the adventurers’ guild you belong to.”

was a game that felt familiar even to those who encountered it for the first time.

From a critical perspective, it was sometimes called “a typical mass-produced game lacking originality, borrowing heavily from here and there.”

Frustratingly, it was a fact.
It was hard to refute with any logic.

If I were to defend it, at least it wasn’t like a patchwork sewn together with just anything.
It was more like stained glass, you could say.
A splendid masterpiece where different colors harmonize exquisitely.

…Even this could be mocked as being well-copied, leaving me with nothing to say.

Anyway, for me now, the clichés were rather welcome elements.
For someone who had to live in an unfamiliar world, anything familiar was better than strange situations.

“Try to speak quietly, just in case.”
“Stop it. I’m not a child.”

The adventurers’ guild I entered following Giff was indeed similar to scenes commonly found in other creative works.

Adventurers gathered, talking.
The lively atmosphere conveyed through eyes and ears.
Although it was my first time here, it didn’t feel unfamiliar at all.

If there was an unexpected point, it was Giff’s high popularity.

“Were you this big of a deal?”
“You underestimate me too much.”

Admiration, amazement, enthusiasm.
Various emotions were contained in the gazes that poured towards Giff as he walked in front.

It was so burdensome that my skin felt prickly.
Just seeing how they hesitated to approach from afar, I could tell how respected he was.

“Looks like your nickname wasn’t just for show? What was it again? Something about a storm…”
“The Storm Winter Wolf.”

For a moment, I almost sneered.

“Uh… that’s cool.”
“Don’t praise it, I didn’t come up with it.”
“If it were me, I’d go find the guy who made up the nickname and beat him up.”
“My late master gave me that name.”
“……”

This damn mouth of mine.
I shut my lips tightly before blabbering more.

Meanwhile, we arrived in front of a wall covered with papers of uniform size stuck closely together.
As you could tell just by looking, it was a request board with quests gathered.

“What are you going to do now?”
“Wait and see.”

I quickly scanned through the text written on several request papers.
With a summary at the top briefly explaining the difficulty and content, it wasn’t too laborious a task.

[B-rank – Eliminate Lloyd, leader of the Blood Thief Gang]
[D-rank – Search for the medicinal herb Moon Spring Flower]
[A-rank – Find Ruby, the runaway magic cat]

From quite troublesome tasks to trivial chores.
Various requests were waiting for adventurers to solve them.

“Found it.”

It didn’t take long to find a request that met the conditions I had in mind.

[D-rank – Conquer the Mud Goblin Dungeon]

“That one, please.”

Giff, who removed the request paper for me since I couldn’t reach it, carefully examined the contents.
After reading it all, he wore a somewhat disgruntled expression.

“This is an easy request suitable for novice adventurers.”

Mud goblins, while looking vicious, weren’t particularly strong monsters.
By my standards, they weren’t even worth 5 points.
They were weaklings that only became somewhat dangerous when attacking in hordes.

“It’s fine, just process it. I’ll wait outside.”
“Wait a moment…”

I went outside without listening to his answer.
Staying too long in a place crowded with people like this might risk exposing my identity.

It absolutely wasn’t because of the long line stretched out in front of the reception desk.

It was bustling like a subway during rush hour…
Thinking it might take some time, I bought a chicken skewer from a street vendor and munched on it.

As I waited without thinking, Giff came out of the adventurers’ guild.

“Is it done?”
“…I’m starting to regret agreeing to help.”
“It’s too late now. Shall we go?”

I roughly stuffed the leftover skewer stick into my pocket and moved my feet.

“Before we go, could you explain? What are you planning to do with the mud goblins?”
“I’m not interested in the mud goblins. I need the dungeon.”

The fierce battle I desire doesn’t happen easily.
It only occurs when there’s sufficient cause and heightened emotions.

What if there are lacking elements?
All I had to do was create a situation where I had no choice but to use my full strength.

“He will surely want to eliminate me.”

The excommunicated saint who has become a symbol of terror.
More than enough to be the target of a hero overflowing with a sense of justice.

“So when a ‘good opportunity that won’t come again’ arises, he definitely won’t let it slip away.”
“You don’t mean…”

I smiled slightly.

“Now do you understand why I need the dungeon?”

I will greet the Holy Knight of Evil Destruction at the end of the dungeon.
By becoming the boss monster myself.