I Regressed and the Genre Changed

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 79 – Upheaval (5)

The Papal See was in an uproar.

The Saintess had regained consciousness, only to reveal she had lost her memory. Initially, this seemed like a blessing in disguise.

But who would have known?

Even a Saintess with no memory was not easily manageable.

“Saintess, here! Today’s schedule for the relief activities.”

“…I’ve had enough.”

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“I said I’ve had enough. Why must I spend days without proper rest, wandering a foreign land to perform charity?”

The once cold and meticulous Saintess was gone.

Of course, the Saintess had a point.

A Saintess, by definition, was someone who continued to deliver faith and serve the faithful until her dying breath.

It could indeed feel unfair.

But Isabel Yustia had been chosen by God.

As a Saintess, she was expected to embrace her duties willingly.

The problem was…

“I want to return to the Yustia estate.”

“Saintess, we’ve already agreed on everything with the Count.”

“And where was my opinion in all this? I never wanted to be a Saintess in the first place.”

“But you agreed to this a long time ago, Saintess.”

“I don’t remember that.”

Naturally.

Isabel Yustia had lost her memory.

But they couldn’t openly admit that Isabel had lost her memory.

If she were to regain her lost memories and realize the truth, there was no telling what she might do in her shock.

The Papal See needed the Saintess’s cooperation.

The Black Mist was spreading across the continent, and in the current standoff between the Empire and the Papal See, the Saintess was the only reason the Papal See could establish a foothold in the Eastern Continent.

This was no time for pride.

So, the Pope calmly fabricated a lie.

The goal was to completely isolate the Saintess within the Papal See.

And it seemed to work.

They created a coercive atmosphere and shackled her with a sense of duty.

However, the result was…

The Saintess went missing.

“Did you say… the Saintess has vanished?”

“Yes, she left for Asven alone in her carriage.”

“The carriage? How?”

“I heard she bribed the coachman…”

“And where is that coachman now?”

“He disappeared, possibly in on it from the start.”

The Saintess’s disappearance was an unexpected crisis.

But the Pope still couldn’t understand her choice.

Why would she go to Asven?

The reason was simpler than he thought.

“Also, the Saintess left a letter before she departed.”

“A letter? What did it say?”

“Well…”

The priest glanced at the Pope and cautiously continued.

“She said she would go ahead and that we should leave her alone…”

At that moment, a laugh escaped from the Pope’s tightly pressed lips.

He then glared sharply at the priest watching him.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, I’m certain.”

This is insane.

The Pope was speechless.

What kind of noblewoman behaves so recklessly?

Isabel was now being hunted.

The Royal Family, Duke Winfred, and the Princess were all after the Saintess.

To kill her.

Each had their own seemingly legitimate reasons and justifications for such a brutal act.

This was dangerous.

If something happened to her, it would directly threaten the Papal See.

The Pope felt his anger boiling over.

Swallowing his rage, he cooled his heated head.

“Move up the schedule.”

“The schedule, Your Holiness?”

The Pope nodded slowly.

Then, in a chilling voice, he concluded.

“We leave for Asven at sunrise.”

Damn it.

It would’ve been better off if she had just become a complete idiot.

****

I had initially planned to leave Asven, but plans changed.

“Where is Isabel?”

“She hasn’t moved from her room.”

Isabel Yustia.

Though it’s only been a few days, the memory-lost Saintess ended up living under the same roof as me.

“What has she been doing all day?”

“Nothing unusual. She’s either looking out the window, reading a book, or doing embroidery.”

“Really?”

Staring blankly, reading, or doing embroidery.

All things Isabel typically did to pass the time.

“She’s quieter than I expected.”

She was as quiet as if she didn’t exist in this house.

To be precise, she had no presence.

She didn’t come to my room, nor did she wander around the living room.

So far, there hasn’t been any sign of trouble.

A hard bed, food that only commoners would eat, and a cramped space.

It must have been difficult for a noblewoman like her to adjust.

Her behavior was far too different from her usual habit of causing trouble whenever she could.

It was almost astonishing.

“Does she eat her meals on time?”

“Yes, she hasn’t missed a single meal.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

It would be problematic if she went back to the Papal See and started spouting nonsense because she was starved.

“Any news from the Empire?”

“It’s quiet. So quiet it feels almost unsettling.”

The Papal See had turned away and officially shifted its base to the Eastern Continent.

This was essentially a declaration of war.

The Papal See’s declaration that it would completely sever ties with the Empire.

And yet, the Royal Family was silent?

There was only one meaning to that.

War.

They were likely planning to invade the Eastern Continent.

Conquering the Eastern Continent had been the Emperor’s long-standing ambition.

Then.

Thud, thud.

The familiar sound of footsteps echoed faintly.

And shortly after.

Knock, knock.

A cautious knock resounded in the air a couple of times.

“Kyle.”

When Diana opened the door, it was, as expected, Isabel.

She stood outside, looking back and forth between Diana and me.

“What are you two doing at this late hour?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“……”

Isabel bit her lower lip when I curtly dismissed her question.

She then sighed, looking somewhat crestfallen.

“I need to ask you for a favor.”

“What is it?”

“It’s…”

Isabel couldn’t finish her sentence and lowered her head.

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she muttered.

“I need… bath water…”

“Bath water?”

“Yes.”

I slowly looked her up and down.

It was clear she hadn’t been able to bathe properly for days.

Even to the naked eye, she looked quite grimy.

“Bath water, huh…”

I rested my chin in my hand and responded indifferently.

“There isn’t any.”

“What did you say?”

“I said there isn’t any bath water.”

In the Eastern Continent, where engineering and alchemy weren’t developed, especially in a poor country like Asven, it wasn’t common to have a bathing area in a house meant for commoners, not nobles.

“Then where do I bathe?”

“In the creek.”

“The creek? Did you just say I have to bathe in the creek?”

Isabel looked horrified.

I nodded nonchalantly.

“How am I supposed to bathe in such an open space? What if someone spies on me?”

“Then don’t bathe if you don’t like it. But you do need to clean yourself. The smell is quite bad.”

I said in a bored tone, and Isabel swallowed hard, looking dumbfounded.

“……”

Isabel stared at me, her face turning red with anger and embarrassment.

And then.

“…Come with me.”

Isabel’s voice trembled as she made her request.

“What?”

“Together… I want you to come with me…”

“Where to?”

“To the creek…”

At that moment, I bit my lip.

I almost burst out laughing.

Isabel was asking me for a favor.

With her face red from embarrassment and covered in grime.

Asking the man she once tried to kill to take her to bathe.

‘This is rich.’

She might not know what she was asking, but it was still hilariously ironic.

Strangely satisfying, even.

“Why should I?”

“…Because I’m scared.”

“Hmm…”

I considered refusing.

But if she went alone and something happened, it would be troublesome.

“Ask nicely.”

“…What?”

“Ask nicely. Politely.”

At that moment, Isabel’s face twisted with frustration.

But she quickly composed herself.

Finally, she spoke.

“Please.”

She asked, her face on the verge of tears.

“Kyle.”

****

Splash.

Isabel poured the gently flowing creek water over her body.

“Damn it…!”

The icy sensation sent a shiver down her spine.

She trembled, slowly lowering her gaze.

The creek water, reflecting the moonlight, shimmered softly.

Through the transparent surface, she could see her reflection.

Her soft chest and smooth hips were barely covered.

She felt humiliated.

So much so she regretted leaving the Papal See, even if for a brief moment.

Isabel looked around nervously, turning her head quickly.

Then, she spotted Kyle, standing with his back turned, keeping watch from beyond the hill.

He hadn’t looked back even once.

As if her nakedness didn’t interest him at all.

It had always been like that.

He never did anything she would dislike.

“…Cold.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt an unfamiliar chill for the first time.

Her movements became more frantic.

She wanted to finish bathing as quickly as possible.

Then.

Rustle, rustle.

She heard an unknown sound.

What could that be in the middle of the night?

Isabel listened carefully.

Then she realized.

Footsteps.

And the crunching of leaves underfoot.

They were getting closer and clearer.

“Hah.”

She turned her head.

Softly swaying black hair and piercing blue eyes glimmering ominously.

They were as cold as frost.

“Isabel Yustia.”

The woman called out to her.

It wasn’t surprising.

Isabel knew who the woman calling her was.

Luna Winfred.

She muttered coldly as she approached.

“You’re alive.”

Plop—tears trickled from Luna’s eyes.

“Filthy bitch.”

She muttered a curse under her breath.

Luna held a sword bearing the Winfred crest in her right hand.

“Filthy bitch?”

Isabel’s brow furrowed.

The sudden insult brought a wave of anger.

“What did you just say?”

“Shut that mouth of yours before I rip it apart.”

Luna smiled, her eyes narrowing.

But she continued walking toward Isabel.

“Where is Kyle?”

It was outrageous.

The sudden insult, the sword aimed at her, everything was abrupt.

And for some reason.

Though they had no real connection, seeing Luna Winfred’s face made Isabel particularly irritated.

The air froze sharply.

Anger bubbled inside her like molten lava.

Hum.

Compressed divine power gathered at her fingertips.

“Are you done talking?”

Isabel’s eyes glinted fiercely.

A sharp beam of light bloomed from her fingers, aimed at Luna.

“Apologize, you filthy bitch.”

[Translator – Peptobismol]