At first, it existed only in her nightmares.
By the time she was reborn and became conscious, she was still a newborn baby.
The dim candlelight flickered softly. There was no joy at the birth of a newborn in the cramped wooden hut. Instead, a heavy, despairing atmosphere made the pale, weak-looking woman weep without end. Nearby, a man sat hunched over in a chair, head bowed and silent.
A piercing wail shattered the silence. Only then did she realize she had a little sister.
After giving the quiet one a final hug and soothing the crying baby, their parents pushed open the broken wooden door and left. They never came back.
The one who took them in was Morse, the head of the Candlelight Church.
Ever since then, she often had nightmares when she went to sleep at night. And the abomination before her now, the one holding a scythe, was the demon that appeared only in her dreams.
She hadn’t paid it much mind before. Then, on her tenth birthday, the demon from her dreams appeared in the real world, just as it had today. It only stared at her in silence, but the threat of death had still closed in around her in an instant.
One day, it would escape the realm of dreams and take physical form. And when that day came, she would die.
No one could defeat these abominations, just as no one knew where they came from. Their mystery and terror filled everyone with dread. Faced with the unknown, all people could do was flee.
But Sherry had never been one to sit around and wait for death. She’d survive in her own way.
The Saintess’s house was in the residential district behind the church. Once the shadow in the alley had faded away, she followed the route she remembered and soon made it home.
She drew the curtains, then flopped without a care into the soft sofa. She wriggled around like a little cat until she was completely comfortable. Only then did she take another ring from the Gladis Ring.
She held it high against the dazzling chandelier. Its diamond-bright glimmer made her lick her lips, a touch of worldly greed staining her saintly air.
She was both a Saintess and a Witch. Whenever she used the magic unique to Witches, her hair turned pink. Her personality as a Witch was her true one; only when she shed every disguise could she feel happy.
Who’d choose to live behind a mask if their life didn’t depend on it?
She’d made the poison that put Carlisle to sleep herself. She’d meant to brew a powerful sleeping potion, but for some reason, this one didn’t just knock people out—it also left men unable to perform in bed for a while.
To scare people, she’d named it “Heirbreaker.”
If her later sleeping potions had worked any better, she wouldn’t have used this one every time. After all, as a woman who’d spent over ten years as a man, she knew just how vile this potion was!
Still, just thinking of Carlisle’s dark expression when he woke up and realized he’d lost that particular ability made her laugh uncontrollably.
She was a shamelessly ordinary person. Her happiness was built on other people’s misery.
It was time to check out the spoils she’d taken from Carlisle!
She murmured the Gladys Spell. Carlisle’s ring gave a faint glimmer in her hand, and she sensed everything stored inside it.
She took a quick look. Most of it was useless to her.
A bronze-colored shield shaped like a beast’s face, a broken stone sword, several sets of heavy armor that looked like antique collectibles, and some old books from who knew where…
She could probably get a decent amount of money if she sold all of this.
The Candlelight Church’s Saintess was broke, and researching potions as a Witch took a lot of money. So it wasn’t her fault she was greedy!
Past the piles of objects, all that remained was a heap of men’s clothes.
Most of Carlisle’s clothes weren’t worth much. Sherry hadn’t planned to look through them closely, but a casual glance revealed several expensive pieces with a distinctly aristocratic style.
Her brows knitted tight.
Aristocrats wouldn’t choose to be dangerous bounty hunters. Carlisle must’ve gotten those clothes somewhere on the sly so he could dress like a big shot at parties.
Hah. So young, and already so vain. Who knew what he’d be like in a few years?
The last things left in the ring were a silver necklace and a scepter with a little golden sword carved into its tip. She was about to take them out for a closer look, but the moment her slender fingers touched the necklace, something strange happened!
The necklace, before she could even get a proper look at it, bizarrely shattered into a cloud of golden starlight. It rushed into her skin and vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.
“Huh?” Sherry hadn’t even had time to react.
She stood up and touched her cheek in confusion, sniffed her white hair, then used both hands to roughly measure her waist and thighs. Finally, she spread open the top of her dress to check the size of her chest. After confirming her figure hadn’t changed, she sank back into the sofa.
After a long while, her body still hadn’t felt any different. Only then did she finally relax a little.
She’d seen enough inexplicable things to be getting used to them. If she couldn’t figure out what that had been, she might as well stop thinking about it.
She turned her attention to the last item, the scepter, and took it out.
The scepter felt heavy in her hand. The little golden sword at its tip curved perfectly, clearly the work of a skilled craftsperson. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she could always hear a faint, eerie howl coming from the top of the scepter.
Strangely, the more she looked at the scepter, the more familiar it seemed. Almost as if it were…
“A-Round Table Knight?!” she cried. In her panic, she let go, and the scepter clanged to the floor.
She remembered now. This scepter was unmistakably a symbol of the Knights of the Round Table! Every Knight of the Round Table had their own Golden Sword Scepter!
The Knights of the Round Table were humans who contained oddities. They walked forever along the boundary between reason and madness, searching for the world’s unknown truths. Their formidable strength and bizarre methods made even the Church and the Empire wary of offending them.
And she’d actually managed to take one of those guys down?
She swallowed hard several times, a little sweat beading on her forehead.
As a Knight of the Round Table, Carlisle could definitely track her down. She didn’t doubt that for a second. And she’d heard that those who dealt with oddities all the time could be especially cold and ruthless when angered.
They said that once, a girl who offended a Knight of the Round Table was stripped naked and paraded through the streets for three days!
She could hardly imagine what terrifying fate awaited her if Carlisle caught her! This wasn’t some minor offense. She’d stolen his things and temporarily made him impotent. There was no way he’d let her off!
When it came down to it, she was just a cowardly bully.
She hurriedly stuffed Carlisle’s belongings back into his ring. Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, she suddenly remembered the silver necklace that had disappeared.
Oh, she was so dead. She really hadn’t meant to lose it!
If he found out the necklace was missing, would he ever forgive her?
What was she supposed to do…?
What was she supposed to do…?
…
…Whatever. She was dead either way. She might as well sell it all for cash.
