Chapter 3: Waste of Time? No! Every Little Bit Counts!

“Useless so-called Spirit Wolf. What good are you at all? Your nose won’t work, you can’t pull a wagon... All you’re good for is being a ball of fur for Kanata to play with.”

“K-Kh...”

Of course, to Kanata, the quality of Fenrir’s fluffy fur was more than enough to make him a first-class companion, but the Spirit Wolf still found himself vexed by his inability to help.

“If only I had my original body,” he said. “Pulling that wagon would be nothing!”

“Huh?” Kanata asked. “You had an original body, Fen-fen?”

“Of course!” Fenrir boasted. “My original body is dozens of times bigger and more powerful than this feeble thing!”

“D-Dozens of times the fluff?” Kanata imagined herself falling asleep, sinking into an enormous ball of white fur. She began to drool. “H-How do we get you that big again?!” she asked. “Food? Lots and lots of food?” She reached her grasping hands out toward Fenrir.

“N-No,” Fenrir said. “You’re giving me plenty of food...”

He was starting to wish he hadn’t brought it up. There was nothing stopping them from retrieving his body if they went to the High Cathedral of the Holy Church, but that would mean confronting the reviled false Saint Marianne.

Fenrir did not wish to endanger Kanata due to his own circumstances, but it looked like he wouldn’t be of any use to her unless he retrieved his original body. Torn between those contradictory desires, he racked his brain in anguish. If his kind master learned of the horrible things that had befallen him in the Holy City, she would no doubt go charging in to smash up the Church in a fit of righteous fury. But as strong as Kanata was, there was no guarantee that she would come out victorious against a Church with millions of followers across the world. There was a limit to how strong a single girl could be.

He had to keep his master safe. That was more important than retrieving his old power.

“Ah, if only what I said was true!” Fenrir said. “I’m terribly sorry, but I made it up!”

“R-Really...?” Kanata asked.

“Y-Yes! I’m so sorry to have gotten your hopes up!” Fenrir put on a big fake smile.

Kanata peered at him dubiously as Zag’giel kept his silence.

“So!” Fenrir said. “Where to next?”

They hadn’t gone far from the Holy City. Fenrir hoped he could lead them in some other direction, away from that place. But Kanata had already made her decision.

“To the west!” Kanata said.

“According to the map the village elder showed us yesterday, if we follow the road, we should arrive in the Holy City,” said Zag’giel.

“Wh-What?!” Alas! She was headed straight back to the enemy stronghold!

† † †

Meanwhile, in the High Cathedral in the Holy City Lordentia...

“There goes another spell!” Saint Marianne tsked. The gem that had served as the nucleus of her curse shattered. Her magic had been undone.

This was the second. The first had been the one she had cast on the spirit lurking deep within the sewers of the Royal Capital. And now, the spell she had cast on the ogre who lived with that group of goblins had been broken as well. The spell—a curse, really—enveloped its victim in an evil miasma, granting them tremendous strength, but amplifying the evil in their heart. She herself should have been the only one with the power to lift it.

Marianne had been using this spell to gather faith from humans all over the world. It was a tactic that had won the young Saint no small amount of favor with the Goddess.

But now it seemed someone was getting in the way.

In both cases, things had proceeded as normal at first. The curse was developing nicely, well on its way to the point when its victim would go on a rampage, causing chaos in the surrounding lands. When that happened, Marianne would lift the curse and send the Temple Knights to exterminate the magic beast, now confused and powerless, as the cause of all the trouble. The people’s faith in the Holy Church would grow deeper for their role in bringing the disaster to an end.

It was a despicable, cowardly tactic, but as long as nobody noticed what she was doing, nobody would find fault with her for it.

But how could her spells be broken, not once, but twice, in a matter of days?! Perhaps some terrifically strong adventurer could have stumbled upon one of the magic beasts and defeated them before Marianne had a chance, but that wouldn’t explain how the spell was broken. The spirit in the sewer was not only released from the curse, but purified, and the ogre in the goblin den didn’t even seem to be dead. It seemed that just the magic was broken, leaving him unharmed.

Marianne herself—the caster of the curse—was sure that she was the only one who knew about this spell of hers. But in that case, what could possibly be happening?

“The spell on the ogre was still new,” she mused. “It hadn’t had time to develop too much strength. But the spirit in the sewer was close to being complete.”

If it had been left alone for just a few more months, the poisonous sewer water would have spilled over, endangering everyone in the Royal Capital, and then the Temple Knights would have swooped in to save the day. It would have taken hundreds of priests to purify. On the other hand, it wasn’t out of the question for the local Church to have realized what was happening. Perhaps they dealt with it informally through the Adventurers’ Guild.

“So, an adventurer did it? But surely I would have heard of an adventurer who could use purification magic like that. As far as I know, there wasn’t anyone in the Royal Capital with those abilities...” Even the Saint herself would be hard pressed to perform such an outlandish feat of purification on her own. She had heard that the people of Undertown—the ones most affected by the poisonous sewer—had said that they were saved thanks to the intervention of a single young girl. But that was nothing more than a rumor. “Who could possibly be responsible?”

Assuming that it was the same person who dispelled both curses, it seemed likely that whoever she was, she knew about Marianne’s plans. Marianne wanted desperately to know more about what had transpired in the sewers of the Royal Capital, but the Adventurers’ Guild was very strict about their independence. They might respond to pressure from the Church by simply refusing to give them any information...

“I must tell the Goddess...” Marianne scowled. She didn’t want to do this. The Goddess might take umbrage at being bothered with this. It might be considered a sin.

Marianne left her room to pray before the statue of the Goddess hidden in the deepest part of the High Cathedral. As Saint, Marianne could commune with the gods to receive divine messages and guide the world on its proper course. Or so it was said. In truth, the Saint was nothing more than the gods’ puppet. There were many ways to gather faith, and it was just as common for the gods to sow the seeds of calamity throughout the world. The gods grant the Profession of Saint to those who have the greatest faith of all—the ones who believe, from the bottom of their hearts, that anything the gods do is inherently correct, and that the gods are worthy to receive all glory and the entire world.

As Marianne’s prayers reached the heavens, the statue began to glow with divine light.

“Marianne Ishfalke,” the Goddess said, “my Saint.”

“Goddess...” Marianne bowed deeply before the divine.

“My lost little lamb. I can feel the disquiet of your heart. Has something happened?”

“I’m afraid it has,” Marianne said. She explained the situation—that two of the curses she had cast as part of her faith-gathering scheme had been dispelled, and that she suspected a single person was behind this. That person might be headed to the Holy City Lordentia as they spoke, she said.

“No...” the Goddess said. “Can it be...?”

“Goddess?” Marianne lifted her head. It almost seemed like the Goddess was afraid.

“It is nothing,” the Goddess said. “Do not concern yourself with it.”

Marianne cleared her throat, and, with an air of great confidence, continued. “I will look into the matter at once, of course. And she shall be eliminated! I will be your sword against any apostate who would dare defy us!” She looked up at the statue—her Goddess—eyes shining with fervent faith.

But the Goddess’s next words sounded strained.

“N-No,” she said. “Do not.”

“What?”

“The loss of one or two pawns is hardly a matter of concern. Let it be. Yes. I believe that would be best.”

“But—”

“This is not something you can handle! Touch a hot coal and you will be burnt! Idiot!”

“Aaah! I’m so, so sorry!”

The Goddess was angry. Marianne curled up like a turtle, begging forgiveness.

The Goddess sighed. “This is the girl,” she said.

An image appeared, made of pure light. It showed a young girl, tightly embracing two balls of fluff—one white and one black.

“That child dispelled my curses?!” Marianne exclaimed, disbelieving. Then she realized she had for a second doubted the words of the Goddess. Shamefully, she tried to change the subject. “Are those...magic beasts she has with her? They look pretty weak. Don’t tell me... Is she a Beast Tamer?” She was staring wide-eyed. This only seemed less and less believable.

“Do not be fooled by her appearance,” the Goddess said. “But there is no need to interfere. If we leave her to her own devices, she will move on to other lands in time. She will pass over us like a storm.”

“But you know who she is!” Marianne objected. “Are we really that helpless? There must be some way we can be rid of her...”

“You doubt the words of the gods?”

“N-No! I’m so sorry!”

“You must not involve yourself with this girl. She, alone, once defeated the armies of the Demon King. You do not have the power to contend with her.”

“The armies of the Demon King?! They came to this continent?!”

It had only been two days since a demonic army had appeared outside the Royal Capital. The information had yet to reach Marianne in the Holy City. Even a Hero—the very symbol of the strength of humankind—would struggle to defeat such an army alone. And yet, this girl had done it. It boggled the mind.

“So they did. The Demon King has regained his power and is now dwelling on this continent. Soon, there will come one worthy of the Profession Hero. But now is not the time to fight. Even if you gathered a fighting force of champions with Professions of the like of Sage or Divine Sword, there would be nothing they could do against her. Damn that heavy-soul girl. It’s like she distorts the very fabric of reality. Why was someone like that born into this world...?”

“Goddess?”

The Goddess had been muttering in dark irritation. It made Marianne worry. She had never seen her beautiful, aloof Goddess so shaken as to lose her composure.

“It is not your concern,” the Goddess snapped. “Continue as you are. Gather faith and offer souls to me. That is your role as Saint.”

“I understand,” Marianne said. She had been scolded twice now. Any more back talk would risk incurring the Goddess’s wrath. “Your will be done.” Marianne bowed to the wordless pressure and quietly obeyed.

“I leave the rest to you,” the Goddess said, and her presence departed from the statue.

Marianne stayed kneeling for a while, her hands clasped together, offering prayers of thanksgiving. Then, suddenly, she lifted her head. “Who’s there?”

“Your Holiness!” It was a knight on guard duty in the High Cathedral. He stepped forward.

“The will of the Goddess is absolute,” Marianne said. As a Saint, she was nothing more than a terrestrial representative of the Goddess. It would not be permitted for her to go against divine decree. “But we have a responsibility to monitor the Holy City for unrest.”

This wasn’t a violation of the Goddess’s will. After all, how could she avoid getting involved with the girl if she didn’t find out where exactly she was, in order to avoid her?

“If a black-haired girl accompanied by two small magic beasts comes into town, inform me at once.”

“Yes, Your Holiness!”

Nobody knew yet what would come of that order, for good or for ill.

† † †

Kanata’s journey was proceeding apace.

“Nhhhh!”

“Grrrrr!”

Zag’giel and Fenrir each held a length of rope in their mouths, pulling as hard as they could. Kanata, meanwhile, was cheering. “Go! Go! Yay! Yay!”

Attached to the ropes was a wagon, its wheels stuck in the marsh. Behind it, in a line, were other merchant wagons, stuck in a jam. All of the merchants had gotten out to try to pull the wagon free, but the marsh was deeper than they had thought, and it wasn’t going well.

Kanata had been passing this scene when her companions expressed a desire to help.

“As weak as I am, I would like to lend my assistance,” said Fenrir.

“We will show these pitiful humans the strength of the King of Demons!” Zag’giel added.

And so the two joined in with the team of merchants trying to pull out the wagon. But with their tiny, weak bodies, they weren’t doing much good.

Actually, there was some good that they were doing—they gave Kanata the joy of watching them try.

“Wow!” she sighed, taking a snapshot of the image to store in her brain’s photo album. “That was great...” She took the rope in one hand, and with no great effort at all, pulled the wagon out of the marsh.

Actually, she may have pulled it a little too hard. The wagon hopped a bit into the air, and the merchants fell over on their backsides. As for Zag’giel and Fenrir, they went rolling away.

“Oops oops oops!” Kanata said, running after them. “Zaggy! Fen-fen!”

Later, when Kanata had retrieved the pair, a representative of the merchants—a man wearing a turban—came to offer their thanks. “We really owe ya one,” he said.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” Kanata demurred. “Zaggy and Fen-fen did all the work!”

“Oh, did they now? I suppose I should thank you, then! Ha ha ha!”

The man offered them a ride with the caravan as thanks for their help. Kanata and her friends were thrilled to accept and climbed aboard with the luggage, bound for the Holy City.

A while later, the three were devouring the lunch boxes they had brought with them when they left the village. “This is good!” Kanata exclaimed.

“Indeed,” said Zag’giel. “This is perhaps the second-best fare we have tasted, after Kanata’s cooking!”

“K-Kanata’s cooking?!” Fenrir was incredulous. “Furball! Why haven’t you told me about this?!”

“Hmph. What of it? Yes, we have tasted Kanata’s cooking, and you have not!”

“G-Gh...!”

“Bwa ha ha!” laughed Zag’giel. “Does it hurt, Fen-fen? Curse it all you like, but we will forevermore have tasted Kanata’s cooking before you!”

“D-Demon King! You fiend! You won’t get away with this!”

It looked like Zag’giel and Fenrir were getting into a fight. Their relationship was a powder keg, but stuck in their ridiculous furball bodies, all they managed to be was adorable.

“Stop fighting!” Kanata pouted. “Well...you don’t have to stop if you don’t want to, I guess. It’s cute the way you two bop each other!” Because their legs were so short, all they could really do was flail at each other with their front paws. Kanata loved it.

They passed the time this way until Zag’giel and Fenrir dozed off. Suddenly they heard the merchants’ representative calling out to them. “You three! We’re almost there!” Zag’giel and Fenrir snapped awake. Kanata was a bit disappointed they had stopped napping, but she clambered to the front of the wagon to see.

“Oh, wow!” Kanata couldn’t help gasping. It was like an entire mountain had been carved away to make room for the immense cathedral towering above, surrounded by waterfalls. The tall buildings of the city were pure white and absolutely stunning. The outward face of the Holy City was one of solemn grandeur.

“Well!” marveled Zag’giel. “Humans have some ability after all. Although this is far too beautiful a place to worship that wretched Goddess.”

Fenrir, however, seemed completely dispirited. “And now we’re back here...” he said.

“What’s wrong, Fen-fen?”

“A-Ah! N-Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!”

“Really? You can tell me if you’re not feeling well.”

“I am feeling one hundred percent absolutely well!” Fenrir objected. “I am the very picture of health!” He focused his power, making his fur poof out.

“Aha ha!” Kanata laughed. “He’s a little puff ball! Cute!”

“H-Hmph!” said Zag’giel. “We can do that as well!”

He tried. “Curses! Our fur is too short!”

“Oh my gosh, Zaggy’s trying his best! Sooo cute!”

“N-No! Not him! Pay attention to me, Lady Kanata!”

Those two could be very jealous balls of fluff when their opposite furball was complimented.

† † †

The wagon drew closer and closer to the city, at last passing through its enormous gates carved with beautiful patterns. The entrance was a brilliant-white building, like a painting of a heavenly city.

“Welcome to the Holy City Lordentia,” the merchant said. The clear sound of bells could be heard echoing from afar. “This is as far as we go. Thanks for the help, missy! And the little ones too.”

“No, thank you!” said Kanata.

“We commend you,” said Zag’giel.

“Can this Demon King not just say ‘thank you’...?” Fenrir wondered.

They parted ways with the merchants, who had come to this city to trade, and set out to look around the city. The streets of the Holy City were as beautiful as the rest of it. They didn’t even see a single piece of litter. This was the headquarters of the Church, and many of the people walking around looked like some kind of clergy or other. The remainder seemed largely made up of people who had come to pray at the High Cathedral.

But looking closely, the robes worn by the clergy were of top-quality cloth, and here and there they caught glimpses of precious metals adorning their arms underneath the sleeves of their habits. It seemed that the alms given to the Church were not necessarily being put to the best use.

“When we first saw this city, we thought it was beautiful,” said Zag’giel, “but seeing it up close, the falseness of it all is making us ill.”

“I agree,” said Fenrir. “Their faith is nothing but a charade. It is wholly without value.”

“I wonder if there’s any fluff around...” Kanata said.

“Be that as it may,” Zag’giel went on, “this is the stronghold of the Holy Church. There must be something we can find here that will lead us to the Goddess.”

“Wh-What was that?” Fenrir exclaimed. “Lady Kanata, do you mean to fight that Goddess?”

“No, no!” Kanata said. “I came here because I thought I could smell fluff.”

“Fluff?” Fenrir was confused. “I, um, I hate to ask, Lady Kanata, but what is this ‘fluff’ you speak of?”

“What is fluff? Gosh, that’s a bit hard to explain. Fluff is healing. Fluff is warmth. It’s the epitome of softness. It’s happiness itself...” Kanata was starting to get lost in her own world.

“Hah,” Zag’giel laughed, full of his own superiority. “Don’t tell us you didn’t know.”

“And you mean to say that you do know, King of Demons?!”

“Of course,” Zag’giel said. “Very well. We shall teach you, ignorant one, of the fluff!”

“What is the fluff?” Fenrir asked.

“Fluff is a symbol of strength!”

“A-A symbol of strength?!” Fenrir’s eyes shot open in surprise at Zag’giel’s declaration.

“The ‘fluff score’ is a measurement of strength. Therefore, ‘fluff’ must symbolize a being of transcendental power!”

“Incredible,” Fenrir said. “So that’s what fluff is...”

“Kanata has oft associated us with the fluff,” Zag’giel said. “And what would we be associated with if not ultimate power?”

“Ultimate power!” Kanata said. “Of course! Zaggy, that’s perfect! Yes! Fluff is ultimate power! That’s deep, Zaggy. Really, really deep...”

Deep as a puddle, maybe.

“I see...” Fenrir said. “Then ‘fluff’ is a word that means ultimate power. In that case! Lady Kanata! I, too, will make the fluff my goal! I’ll be a better servant to you than a Demon King ever could!”

“What?!” Kanata exclaimed. “Fen-fen too?! You’re gonna get even fluffier?!”

“I will! Just wait and see!”

Kanata staggered back, dizzy with joy. “Father... Mother...” she said, clasping her hands to her chest and gazing off in the direction of her parents’ home. “Your daughter is truly happy. I’m so glad I became a Beast Tamer...”

“But if you came here following the smell of fluff, could it be—?” Fenrir hit on an idea. What if what Kanata was smelling was his original body, left behind in the High Cathedral?

“At first I thought maybe it was Fen-fen,” Kanata said. “But I still smell the fluff.” She sniffed at the air. Her sense of smell was preposterously good when it came to fluff. “It’s especially strong around that big cathedral...”

Fenrir balked. “Oh?! O-Oh really?! But I don’t sense anything?!” He was determined to play ignorant.

Zag’giel sighed in exasperation. “Kanata is a human, and yet her nose is sharper than you, a dog. What a useless ball of fur.”

“You’re every bit as useless!”

“Both of you are super useful!” Kanata said, making her way toward the High Cathedral, as the furball in her arms and the furball on her head started yet another fight.

The High Cathedral was built into a tall, craggy mountain. They had to cross a long suspension bridge to get to the entryway. Below the bridge was a deep waterfall basin. There was no saving you if you fell off, but vast crowds of worshippers came on pilgrimages every day nonetheless. Kanata lined up and waited for her turn to cross.

“What should I do, what should I do?” Fenrir was muttering. “I mustn’t interfere with Lady Kanata’s plans, but inside there is that false Saint!”

“What are you muttering about?” asked Zag’giel.

“N-Nothing! Pay it no mind!”

“You are a strange one...”

“Fen-fen’s strangeness is part of what makes him cute!” Kanata said. She pet the puppy gently on his head. In the end, Fenrir wasn’t able to come up with a way to stop Kanata.

Finally, it was their turn to cross. “Wow!” Kanata said, looking down from the bridge’s entrance. “We’re so high up!” But before she could cross, a pair of spears crossed in front of her, barring the way. “Wah?!”

A knight, dressed from head to toe in armor and wearing a heavy helmet, leered down at her through his visor.

“Who dares?!” Zag’giel spat.

The knight flinched.

“Am I not allowed to bring magic beasts?” Kanata asked. “I’m a Beast Tamer, you know...”

“No,” the knight said. “That isn’t it.” He gestured to a basin set beside the bridge. Inside was a number of coins. “You have not given your donation.”

In other words, to cross this bridge, they would have to pay a toll.

“How much is it?” Kanata asked.

“Are you a follower of the Holy Church?”

“No,” Kanata said. “I don’t worship any particular god.”

“Heretic,” the knight growled. “In that case, to cross you must pay one hundred gold to wash away your sins.”

“One hundred gold?!”

“This is extortion!”

“Then convert,” he said. “It will have to be quick, but as a Temple Knight, I am qualified to give baptisms.”

“I won’t,” Kanata said, flatly.

This is a bit of a digression, but you might be wondering why Kanata, who, as she said, didn’t worship any gods, qualified for the Profession of Saint back in her Selection Ceremony. A Saint must have both high abilities and unshakable faith. Kanata was faithful, not to the gods, but to something else. The fluff. It was the fluff that was inherently correct. It was the fluff that was worthy to receive all glory and the entire world.

For someone with such a bizarre yet unshakable faith to have been allowed to become a Saint was a serious error on the part of the gods.

“The only thing I worship is the fluff,” Kanata said. “And besides, I’m out of money.”

“Go, then,” said the knight. He sent her away, thinking her nothing more than a strange young lady.

“One hundred gold...” Kanata pouted as they returned the way they came.

“Phew...” Fenrir was relieved. “At least that buys me some time...”

“If we must go to the High Cathedral, then we must earn money,” said Zag’giel. “We do not doubt that Kanata can easily raise one hundred gold.”

“All right!” Kanata said. “Let’s go adventuring!”

† † †

“Then why would you come back here?!” Melissa sobbed. She had finally finished the paperwork relating to the bandits and the incident with the ogre and goblins. But just when she had a moment to breathe, who should appear but Kanata? If the gods existed, Melissa thought, they were tormenting her.

“I tried looking for work back there, but there isn’t an Adventurers’ Guild in the Holy City...”

“As vexing as that is,” Melissa agreed. “The Holy Church has too much influence there, and they have the Temple Knights to deal with anything that comes up. They won’t let the guild get a foothold.”

“Then the guild doesn’t take requests from the people in the Holy City?” Kanata asked.

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Melissa said, retrieving a stack of requests from a drawer. “There’s a great deal of discrimination based on how much one can afford to tithe to the Holy Church. If you can’t afford to give alms, your problems aren’t going to be addressed.”

“We see,” Zag’giel mused. “It does not surprise us to hear this of that city. Its shine is only surface deep.”

“Some of those people send the guild requests by mail,” Melissa said. “But it’s hard to justify giving these to adventurers. The rewards are all very low.” The Adventurers’ Guild was not a charitable institution. It existed in order to find paying work for adventurers. “So we take the requests, but we don’t do anything with them. I wish there was more I could do to help those people, but...”

“May I see the requests?” Kanata asked.

“Oh, yes, go ahead. But they really don’t offer much of a reward. This isn’t like cleaning the sewers, where you got paid by the step. Your talents would be better used elsewhere, Miss Kanata. If you need money, I can find you a lucrative request.” Melissa knew of several outstanding high-difficulty requests. With Kanata’s abilities, she could fulfill them easily. The reward would easily come out to more than one hundred gold.

But Kanata was busy looking over the folder of requests Melissa had handed her. “I’ll take all these requests,” she said, shutting the folder.

“A-All of them?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kanata said. “It should be just enough money to get into the High Cathedral.” Each individual request paid almost nothing, but taken together, they could move mountains.

“B-But there’s so many of them! And the difficulty level is all over the place! I think in your case, you would be better off doing just one high-difficulty request...”

“But these people will be in trouble if no one takes their requests, right?”

“I... I suppose...”

“Then it’s perfect! I’ll make some money, help the people of the Holy City with their problems, and clear out some of your backlog of requests! It’s a win-win-win!”

“So you say,” Melissa replied. “But Miss Kanata, you really aren’t getting a very good—”

“Well, I’m off!”

“Aah!” Melissa shouted as Kanata teleported back to the Holy City, folder of requests in hand. “She’s ignoring me again!”

† † †

“And you...sent them away?” Marianne asked. Before her, the Temple Knight was shaking in his boots.

“Y-Yes, Your Holiness!” he said. “I’m so sorry!”

The knight hadn’t heard he was supposed to keep an eye out for the girl until after he had sent her away. Marianne had the whimpering man removed from the room and went to gaze out the window.

“I knew it,” she said. “She’s here in the Holy City. I don’t know what she’s after, but the Goddess’s command was that I was not to interfere with her. I’m not meant to act. And yet...” There was a strange feeling in her chest. A nervous anticipation of something for which she had no words.

† † †

In a ramshackle house in the slums of the Holy City—not visible from outside the walls—a mother lamented her powerlessness to help her sick son.

“Mama, it hurts...”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry. If only we could afford a doctor.”

“Hello!” Kanata said, bursting into the scene with no warning. “I got your request!”

“Where is the patient?” Zag’giel asked. “We should begin immediately. This will not take long.”

“Lady Kanata is going to heal you!” said Fenrir.

Kanata’s magic cured the boy in the blink of an eye.

“Wh-What?!” the mother and child exclaimed at once.

“My child!” the mother said. “The doctor told me he wouldn’t last the winter, but now he’s all better!”

“Thank you, miss!” said the boy.

The two thanked Kanata over and over again as they signed the quest completion form, and Kanata left as quickly as she had come.

“One down, lots to go!” she said.

“With your skills, Kanata,” Zag’giel said, “it would be a simple matter to gather the humans of the Holy City together and heal them all at once, but this is a request after all. It will be a nuisance of a task to visit them one by one, but we suppose that is how it must be done.”

“We should do all the healing requests today first,” said Fenrir. “The next one is from a tailor who lives three houses down!”

“Kay-kay!”

The next day, they moved on to a cleaning job. There was an old church, built before the Holy City had grown as big as it had, where the poor buried their dead in a communal cemetery. But the only person living at the church was an old cloistered sister. She wasn’t really able to perform proper funerals for everyone, let alone keep the cemetery cleaned and purified. It had gotten bad enough that there was a risk of the corpses rising as undead magic beasts.

Of course, with Kanata’s purification magic, it was easy work.

“Squeaky clean, squeaky clean!” she chanted, and the gravestones immediately became sparkling clean. They looked brand-new. Now the dead interred in the cemetery could return to their eternal rest.

The old cloistered sister clasped her hands together, giving Kanata her most heartfelt thanks. “That light!” she marveled. “I can’t believe it! Those filthy gray tombstones are sparkling again!”

“Shall we search for lost items next?” asked Zag’giel.

“We have requests for a ring, a wallet, missing pets...” said Fenrir.

“No problem!” said Kanata. “I’ll find them with detection magic!”

A misplaced wedding ring. A stolen wallet. Someone’s keepsake—an old watch. Kanata listened to her clients describe their missing items and then found them one after another with magic.

“I’m not sure what to do about the missing pets, though...” Ordinary animals were afraid of Kanata. They could sense her aura of might, and would instinctively flee before she could get close.

“Kanata! Allow us to handle this!”

“Watch! I’ll show you that I’m not useless!”

For once, Zag’giel and Fenrir actually lived up to their boasts. The pair did a splendid job rounding up the missing pets. Maybe too splendid...

“Keep your distance!” Zag’giel said, tired of the throng of animals showering him with attention. “We have no interest in becoming the lover of a cat!”

“I’m not a dog!” Fenrir protested. “I’m not a dog!”

Apparently Zag’giel and Fenrir, in their current bodies, were irresistibly attractive to cats and dogs. All they had to do was walk around, and the missing pets in the area would come to them.

“Okay!” Kanata said. “Let’s keep up the pace!”

Her progress continued unabated. She kept on finishing request after request with bewildering speed. There was an old woman who could no longer walk and wanted to visit her relatives living far away. Kanata picked her up and took her there in no time. There was someone who needed a huge quantity of a common ore. Kanata stuffed her Inventory Screen full of the stuff and easily made the delivery. She played with children at an orphanage. She taught aspiring adventurers how to fight with a sword and use magic. And in only a matter of days, all of the problems facing the poor of the Holy City had been resolved.

Her reward was a vast pile of well-used copper coins, and the joyful gratitude of the people.

“Thank you! Thank you!”

“We had completely given up! We thought nobody would ever help!”

“You’re the only one who has ever lent us a hand...”

At some point, the gratitude gave way to worship. Kanata found herself surrounded by a crowd of people singing her praises.

“The Holy Church never does anything... But you! You came to us in our hour of need!”

“There’s no doubt in my heart. You are the true Saint!”

“Your Holiness!” the crowd cried. “Your Holiness! Your Holiness!”

“No, no, I’m a Beast Tamer!” Kanata protested. “I want fluff!”

“Fluff!” They started to chant. “Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!”

They had no idea what Kanata meant by fluff. They were repeating it as nothing but an invocation of faith. And so another group misunderstood Kanata, and the cult of her faithful spread yet farther.

† † †

Saint Marianne sat in her room, fuming.

“So that’s what she’s come here to do!” she said. “She’s making a fool of the Holy Church!”

The source of her anger could be traced to the rumors she had been hearing day after day of someone people were calling the ‘True Saint.’ It seemed that someone had been helping the poor of the city—the people the Church had overlooked—and had been doing it for virtually nothing. This girl had healed serious diseases without so much as an incantation. She had purified a cemetery. Even animals loved her, the rumors said.

Some of the details were a little off, but the rumors were essentially correct. Due to the miracles this girl had performed, many people had changed the object of their faith from the Church to this so-called True Saint.

Faith was the source of the gods’ power. Marianne was the Saint of the Holy Church! It was unthinkable for her to allow someone to steal faith out from under their noses, no matter how little. And this was happening in the stronghold of the Holy Church—the very Holy City Lordentia itself! Coming here of all places and stealing worshippers from the Church was nothing short of a declaration of war.

“Taking me lightly, are you?!” she demanded of the air. “Are you?! Are you?!” She bit down hard on her thumb, splitting the nail with her teeth. This girl wasn’t satisfied with just breaking Marianne’s curses. She had come here to pillage the Church’s faith directly! She should have already sent the Temple Knights out to have the heretics burnt at the stake! If only the Goddess hadn’t told her not to get involved...

“And they call her the True Saint?!” Marianne spat. “Meaning, I suppose, that I am not. Preposterous! I am the one chosen by the gods as their Saint! Me, and no one else!”

She glared out the window. There were voices outside—yet another crowd talking excitedly about this so-called True Saint. It wasn’t just those too impoverished to give alms to the Holy Church. Even some priests and cloistered sisters had gone to pay the girl their respects.

Marianne had sent her subordinates to investigate what had happened in the Royal Capital and the nearby village, and they’d found signs of the girl’s passing. She wandered from place to place, it seemed, performing miracles and stealing believers from the Church. What could she possibly be after?

“Oooh, I can’t take this!” Marianne exclaimed. “I’m so, so angry!” She looked in the mirror. Her face was in a terrible state. There was no way she could appear in front of the believers looking like that. She decided that she needed to take some time to relieve her stress.

Marianne headed to the prison underneath the High Cathedral, where the Spirit Wolf was bound. It had been a while since she’d paid a visit to see that obstinate pup. No doubt she would find him the same as always, unbroken, glaring at her in bitter defiance.

Stomping on his face always made her feel better.

“It’s his fault, after all,” she muttered to herself as she walked. “If only he would hurry up and submit. If he were mine, nobody would be fooled by that ridiculous imitation Saint.” If the Spirit Wolf who had accompanied the First Saint on her quest to save the world were to obey her, then nobody would doubt her bona fides. She would just have to torment him until his spirit broke. Then all she would have to do would be to appear before the faithful with her new pet. “Oooh, I can’t wait!” she said, licking her lips at the thought.

Alone, Marianne set foot inside the dimly lit prison.

“Good afternoon, my dear Fenrir!” she said. “I do hope you’ve been in good spirits.”

She retrieved a thorned whip from among the torture implements hanging from the wall and stepped toward the cell where the Spirit Wolf was bound.

“There you are!” she said. “What’s wrong, my dear Fenrir? Have you been lonely without me here to play with you?” The wolf, who would usually greet her with a menacing snarl, didn’t even lift his head.

“Well, now, what is the matter?” Marianne continued, growing increasingly concerned. “I don’t see any obvious injuries... Fenrir, respond.” She cracked her whip, but Fenrir didn’t even twitch. He stayed there, collapsed inside the barrier that restrained his strength using power from the faith of the Church’s believers.

“He doesn’t look dead,” she observed. “Just empty. Like a cast-off husk...” It didn’t look like exhaustion. It looked like his soul had entirely left his body. In fact... “No! Can it be?!” Marianne’s intuition as a Saint was warning her of danger. “Can it be that this truly is a husk, and the real Spirit Wolf has gone to that girl’s side...?”

Marianne had a bad feeling about this.

The Spirit Wolf was not like a magic beast—a creature that has a physical body—but was in truth something closer to a phantom. He probably would be able to split himself into multiple bodies, if he had a need to. The barrier was set up to seal powerful beings using greater and greater strength in proportion to the beings’ power. If Fenrir had left the vast majority of his power here, maybe, just maybe, he could have escaped. She hadn’t heard anything about the young girl who had been the cause of her bad day being accompanied by a Spirit Wolf, but perhaps he had only recently broken out and had yet to meet up with her. Perhaps he was going there now.

“I haven’t forgotten what the Goddess said,” Marianne said. “But we can’t lose the Spirit Wolf. The Spirit Wolf is one of the very symbols of Sainthood! At this rate, she’ll steal all our believers!”

Marianne tossed the whip aside and ran up the stairs. She had to get the situation under control. “No inquisitions—I mean, questions! No questions!” she declared. “You! This is urgent! Summon the commander of the Temple Knights!”

“Y-Y-Y-Yes, Your Holiness! Right away!” The underling she had selected ran off.

Soon, the commander of the Temple Knights was here with his retinue, kneeling before Marianne. “Your Holiness, Saint Marianne, what, may I ask, is this urgent business you speak of?”

“I need you to assemble the Temple Knights,” she said.

“Yes, Your Holiness! My most loyal knights, the First Division, are ready at your command!”

“Not just the First,” Marianne answered. “I need every division currently in the Holy City.”

“All of the Temple Knights?!” The commander balked. “What in the world has happened?!”

There were more than five thousand Temple Knights in the Holy City. Even discounting the additional two thousand who were currently away on missions in other lands, mustering their full force would be a significant feat. Ordinarily this would only happen if another country were invading.

“Heresy,” Marianne responded.

“An army of heretics is marching on the city?!” The Temple Knights had heard no such report. For Saint Marianne, their superior in the Church, to have learned something like this ahead of them, the very people responsible for the city’s defense, made the commander feel a sudden bout of vertigo. But the next words out of their Saint’s mouth blew that bit of vertigo out of the water.

“Not an army. You have but one opponent.”

“O-One?! Your Holiness, you mean to dispatch the whole of the Temple Knights against a single heretic?!”

“Yes. Nothing less than your full force will do.”

Frankly speaking, the commander thought Marianne had lost her mind. He had to restrain himself from asking out loud if she was mad. But the Saint was the representative of the Goddess, and her orders had equal weight.

“She is a strange girl with black hair and black eyes,” Marianne continued. “She carries around two magic beasts that look like giant furballs. It’s possible that one of them is the Spirit Wolf Fenrir.”

“The Spirit Wolf Fenrir?! From the legend?!” The commander did not know about the underground prison. He had only heard of the Spirit Wolf Fenrir as a character in a fairy tale.

“The same,” said Marianne. “This girl has deceived him and is now manipulating the Spirit Wolf, who should rightly be by my side. If that isn’t heresy, then what is?!”

“Then you mean to say that an evil witch has infiltrated the Holy City beneath our very noses!” The commander was appalled. “Your Holiness! Forgive me!”

“It’s in the past,” Marianne said. “But we can’t let ourselves be caught unawares again! Find the Spirit Wolf and bring him to me!”

“Yes, Your Holiness! And what of the evil witch?”

“Kill her, of course! She abducted the Spirit Wolf—a servant of the gods! Only death could be enough to atone for such a sin!”

“It shall be done! We will eliminate the witch with all haste, and bring the Spirit Wolf to Your Holiness!”

“Splendid!” Marianne looked down at the man kneeling before her and laughed, sounding every bit like an evil witch in her own right.

† † †

“And that does it...” Melissa finished off the last bit of paperwork. She was still on duty as a receptionist for the guild, though, so she resisted the urge to collapse onto her desk.

“’Sup, boss!” Bella said by way of greeting.

“Bella, didn’t I tell you to speak properly while we’re at work? Don’t make me have to scold you.”

“I get it, I get it!” Bella responded. “Jeez. And after I helped you and everything.”

“Yes, yes, thank you so much,” said Melissa. “I’ll treat you to dinner as a reward.”

“Aww! You’re so generous, boss! I love you!”

Melissa gave a sigh of exasperation at her energetic student and turned her attention back to the girl who had brought in the stack of papers in the first place—the root of all their troubles. Kanata received her reward gleefully.

“You really finished up every single request,” Melissa said. “Your star just won’t stop rising, will it, Miss Kanata?” And her dashing between all those different requests had created an exhausting amount of paperwork. Melissa had hardly gotten a wink of sleep since this started.

The guildmaster—a man in his thirties or forties—walked up to her as they parted ways. “Melissa!” he said. “Great job clearing out all those low-value requests! It really helps to be rid of all that bad debt. I’m impressed you got the adventurers to do work with such a low payout!”

“It was only one, actually,” said Melissa. “She did all of the requests on her own.”

“A-Aah!” the guildmaster cried, recalling the girl who had appeared out of the blue and turned their world upside down. It was somewhat surprising he had managed to forget her. “That girl! Well, results are results, so I’m not complaining. I promise you, I’ll push for your promotion at the next general meeting! It would give me a lot of peace of mind to know that you’ll be here to take over when I retire.”

“What?!” Melissa exclaimed. “Wait, hold on! I haven’t quit being an adventurer, you know! I’m only helping out because of the shortage of staff members! I have no intention of actually becoming a guild official, you—”

“Please, Melissa!” The guildmaster gave her an achingly pitiable expression. “I can’t let you go, you’re the best worker I have! And the pay is much better than being an adventurer. You’re young! This is your chance to move up in the world!”

“And in exchange,” Melissa shouted, “you’ll work me to death nonstop and I’ll miss out on having a young adulthood entirely!” She cried out in despair.

Bella, watching from afar, pressed her hands together to offer a prayer in sympathy. “Poor boss...”

“I wonder what’s the matter with Miss Melissa?” Kanata cocked her head, puzzled by Melissa’s sudden scream.

“Perhaps she is crying for joy,” Zag’giel offered. “That you have completed these requests, Kanata, can only serve to raise her standing in the eyes of the guild.”

“Yes!” Fenrir agreed. “It is a happy occasion!”

“Well, okay,” said Kanata. “As long as she’s happy!”

The three left the Adventurers’ Guild with a spring in their step.