The temple expelled everyone. The Pope, who guarded the temple's door, returned to his office.
He opened his eyes.
"Goddess, thank you so much for granting us a new chosen one. We will guide and protect her, no matter how many lives it costs us, until she fulfills her predestined role," he prayed.
With a steady yet sweaty hand, he pulled a gem from his robe and, without taking a breath, recorded the information it contained. With the gem, he could access the temple's records, where he reviewed the candidates' data.
His good memory allowed him to recall with great detail the face of the new Saint, and without difficulty, he found her data.
With a snap of his fingers, he summoned one of the paladins who was standing guard at the office door.
The door opened.
The Pope quickly sketched a portrait of the girl and noted down her details, which he handed to the paladin who entered the office—spacious and with ostentatious windows that allowed air and light to reach every corner.
The office lacked expensive ornaments like vases, mirrors, or wines.
It was filled with detailed drawings and paintings, signed by the Pope himself.
The paladin checked the data.
Amelia Sophia – Village XXXXX, Kingdom XXX, 14 years old, new Saint.
The paladin removed his helmet and wiped his forehead. For some reason, he was drenched in sweat.
Then, the paladin nodded.
"I'll handle this quickly, venerable Pope. I won't allow anything to happen to the new protector," the paladin said as he bowed and left. He set out to gather a squadron to receive and protect the newly born Saint.
On his way, however, he didn't forget to stop a comrade and hand him a letter.
"If I don't return, give this to Maria from the kitchen. See you, I think," he said as he departed.
His comrade watched him leave with tears in his eyes. He tore the letter apart.
"I'm sorry, Maria from the kitchen likes me too," he whispered imperceptibly.
Back to the Pope.
The Pope nervously tapped the table and leaned back in his chair.
"Nothing should happen to the new Saint, right? Well, even if something does, that woman will show up to prevent it... maybe, yes," he muttered and sighed.
He set aside that thought, knowing there was nothing he could do about it, and his eyes grew sharp. He remembered the temple's events and keenly realized he had pending tasks.
Time passed.
The Pope remained in the office, having pulled out a stack of papers. For some reason, he was reviewing the temple's records and scribbling on the papers. Thousands of detailed portraits and data were taking form.
++++++++++++++++++++++
Dragons are a race of war and violence.
They spend their lives wreaking havoc over the slightest grievances and reasons, despite being considered as intelligent as humans, elves, and dwarves.
And, despite this, there is a stage in a dragon's life known to scholars as the "maternal stage," which lasts about 600 years.
In this stage, all dragons become incredibly docile to protect their eggs until they hatch. What happens after? Do they protect them until adulthood? No! They abandon them to their fate the minute they are born! There have even been documented cases of dragons launching their hatchlings several kilometers away to expel them from their territory, particularly fire dragons!
This erratic behavior in dragons has left many scholars with gray hair as they try to understand them and determine their causes.
For now, the only answer is that it's part of their biological system. It's still under investigation.
Ragner is a dragon going through this stage.
Ragner lived a peaceful life for 400 years—until now.
In the heart of the forest and the mountains, where a waterfall cascaded like a river of liquid light, a thunder dragon was busy relocating its nest. Its imposing figure gleamed with electric sparks as its scales reflected the deep blue of the water and the golden hue of the lightning. This place had been its home for centuries, a territory isolated from the noise and intrusion of the lesser races. But that had changed.
The tranquility he valued so much had been broken by the ambition of one of the many lesser races. He didn't know which one, as he couldn't differentiate them. They had begun building settlements nearby, destroying the surroundings of his territory.
Ragner knew it wouldn't be long before these lesser beings entered his domain, forcing him to confront them—something he'd be more than willing to do at any other time in his long life. But now, it wasn't convenient.
The egg he was protecting needed peace, and a confrontation with those pesky lesser races would mean he couldn't devote 100% of his time to the egg.
He chose to move his nest and later reclaim his territory. He needed to find a quiet, safe place, free from noise or danger, so the egg could develop without complications. Only 300 years remained. It was about to hatch.
With one last look at his nest, carefully constructed with golden branches and stones imbued with magical energy, the dragon took the egg in his claws. Its shell, shining with a mixture of sparks and moisture, contained the most precious life the dragon could imagine. The only life he could have in his long and solitary existence.
Dragons have no genders and don't need partners to reproduce.
"A high, secluded place," he thought, unfurling his majestic wings. Each movement produced a faint thunder that resonated through the air as the dragon rose gracefully.
The gentle sound of his wings caused the egg to tremble slightly. Dragon eggs are sensitive to noise and shake easily. At the same time, they are as fragile as bird eggs, though their shells are thicker. The dragon couldn't grip it too tightly. He had to be careful.
Flying above the clouds to remain unseen, he ensured no disturbances would arise. Nothing should go wrong, right?
+++
The paladins didn't take long to arrive. Clain barely had time to calm down and reconsider his situation from a new perspective.
Maybe—just maybe—with his newfound sacred and divine powers, healing his sister wouldn't be a problem, right? Stories of the miracles performed by the Saint's powers had spread far and wide across the world.
His heart raced with excitement.
The villagers all gathered to greet the approaching paladins, who moved like intimidating beasts radiating resentment toward everything evil and unjust in the world.
gulp
Clain felt nervous as they approached. The purpose of these intimidating men and women was him—or rather, her. Clain needed to get used to acting like a girl, though the very idea didn't sit well with him.
"Clain… What do you think about running? We'll act as a shield," his mother whispered.
Clain rolled his eyes. What was his mother's obsession with fleeing or escaping? He shook his head in disapproval. His mother, like the devoted priest, was beyond help. Both were missing a screw, compared to him, a perfectly sane person…
It had been less than half a day since the ceremony ended and the paladins arrived. Clain was amazed at how quickly they had come.
It clearly showed the importance of her role as the Saint. They must want to protect her and take her to a safe place so she could begin her duties, Clain reasoned.
hmph
But Clain raised his chin with pride. Protect me? I'm not like the other Saints who can only heal and purify here and there. I can protect myself! I've killed orcs and ogres, and my sword is always with me. Even if I had to travel on foot, nothing would happen to me because monsters would run away with their tails between their legs. hmph Clain was convinced of this. He trusted in his abilities, honed through effort, talent, motivation, and experience.
The squad of about 30—no, 300 paladins? Huh? So excessive—arrived at the village entrance. In perfect synchronization, they dismounted their horses, drew their swords, and pointed them skyward before driving them savagely into the ground. Kneeling on one knee, they shouted ceremoniously. The earth trembled. Birds in the distance fled in fear.
"Greetings, Holy Mother of the races, the Pure One, the Favored Daughter of the Goddess, the Savior of the World, the sworn Arch-Nemesis of the Demon King, the Fear of Demons, the Nightmare of Evil, the Friend of the People, the Omnipresent One… ETC. We, your protectors and servants, greet you and offer our most sincere respects. Please forgive us for any errors or misconduct before your divine presence. The world awaits you; kindly accompany us to return to the capital immediately."
"..."
Clain was speechless.
It wasn't the first time Clain had heard the endless titles attributed to the Saint, but it was the first time he truly questioned why she had so many. What kind of role did she have as the Saint? And now that he thought about it, how did the Saint protect the Demon King's seal? What and where was the Demon King's seal? These were secrets of the highest level, known by only a few. Logically, she didn't know either.
Clain found it a bit strange, but he didn't dwell on it much.
The greeting from the paladins made him stumble half a step back, seriously considering the idea of running away that his mother had suggested earlier in a whisper.
It was too late. They were already right in front of him, and Clain needed to figure out how to use his powers to heal his sister.
Clain pushed down his nerves and greeted the paladins with grace and a slight curve of his small, red lips. His golden hair swayed in the wind, and the setting sun returning home after a day's work served as a backdrop to highlight the beautiful visage of the new Saint.
The paladins marveled fervently at the sight, capturing the very image of a true Saint, pure and full of the goddess's grace.
"Hahaha! Kyaa, how elegant and powerful! Don't be so nervous. I, the new Saint, may be greatly lacking in skills, so I ask for your guidance and care… P-Please, allow me to ask you a question," Clain said, hesitating outwardly for a moment, his melodious tone filling the already fervent paladins with awe.
The paladins lowered their heads. The first paladin, their leader, was the one who spoke:
"Do not hesitate to speak, venerable Saint. Your words, true and beautiful, need no restraint."
Clain clenched his fists and stepped forward to stand closer to the paladin.
"Leader of the paladins, may I know your name?"
"I am Tom, my lady savior."
"Nice to meet you, Tom," Clain said, lifting his new humble dress slightly—a recently made garment by the town's clothing designer—revealing some rough manners. It was a white dress with a ceremonial blue cape.
"I'm very excited to begin my role as the Saint, but it's getting dark, and I haven't fully said goodbye to my loved ones—my dear neighbors. Can't we delay our departure until tomorrow? My companions haven't finished preparing either," Clain asked.
He turned to look at his "loved ones" and dear neighbors—the town's commoners—kneeling silently in the presence of the paladins.
The paladin lowered his head in apology for having to reject the Saint's request.
"That is not possible, my lady Saint. We must return now. Every breath counts! Please understand! We must return to the capital and secure you in the palace. We must leave! Please accompany us," the paladin said nervously but firmly. He sought understanding but would accept nothing else from the Saint.
What's up with this bastard? Clain wondered, slightly annoyed. Moments ago, it seemed they would blindly agree to any request he made, but his perfectly reasonable request was rejected.
Does he also have something wrong in his head?
He narrowed his eyes and squatted to meet the paladin's gaze through the helmet.
The paladin met his stare, somewhat surprised by the sudden change in behavior from the upright and gentle Saint.
They stared at each other for three breaths.
"...!" A chill ran down Clain's spine. His intuition screamed that something was terribly wrong.
Clain couldn't pinpoint the paladin's exact emotions through his gaze, but he could almost feel a palpable sense of foreboding.
The stare-off between the sanctified golden eyes and the dark ones ended when the latter shifted their gaze to the sky. Something had caught their attention.
The other paladins also looked up at the sky and rose. They tried to draw their swords, but the weapons got stuck in the ground. What a tragedy! What an embarrassment!
Raindrops began falling from the evening sky, which had darkened and turned into a sea of clouds.
"Huh? When did this happen?" Clain was confused for the hundredth time that blessed day.
Since the arrival of the paladins, less than a hundred breaths had passed. How had the atmosphere changed so quickly? He found no answers, none that were natural or logical.
He looked up at the sky and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the drops now falling. Thunder rumbled.
He closed his eyes briefly at the deafening thunderclap.
His gaze failed to catch an object hurtling toward his location until it was too late.
Clain noticed it when it was less than a meter away and reacted reflexively, not knowing if his action made any sense. He moved the hand he had over his head and tried to deflect the falling object. He succeeded—sort of.
The object shattered.
Clain was drenched in a bluish fluid with a texture resembling both egg yolk and egg white, while a soft object adorned his golden hair.
No, it didn't resemble it—that's exactly what it was.
Clain froze as a current of electricity enveloped him, along with the nauseating and repugnant smell that surrounded him. The nausea churned his stomach, doubling him over as he vomited.
Some of the fluid had entered his mouth, and he had swallowed it.
Before Clain realized it, the paladins had formed a protective circle around him. Thankfully, most managed to draw their swords—not all of them.
"A… a dragon! The Saint has attracted and provoked a thunder dragon!"
While Clain wiped his mouth after his stomach's revolt, he heard this absurdity. What did I do? When and how?! I'm innocent! I didn't do anything!
At first, he wanted to argue against the accusation, but he fully grasped Tom's words.
Dragon?! Clain was about to faint in horror.
In his subconscious, Clain classified this day as the second-worst of his life.
His life had been fairly normal up until now, with a hint of drama and tragedy. How did the genre change so brutally and abruptly today?!
END