No, How Can an Atheist Become a Saintess!? – 89
EP.89 Stubbornness and arrogance (1)
Having a mentor—or not—seems to make a significant difference in one's growth in skill. Until now, I had never had such a person in my life. Someone who would tell me, ‘You’re doing well.’
The priest was a good person, but at the end of the day, he was just an ordinary clergyman. He had deep knowledge in theology, his area of expertise, but outside of that, he was simply an average person. He wasn’t particularly skilled in swordsmanship or magic. Not that I ever stood out in theology, either. From the beginning, I never had much interest in it.
The Mother Superior was… also a good person, but she was strict. Her main concern was ensuring that the nuns lived as nuns should, guiding each of them so they wouldn’t stray. Like the priest, she was well-versed in theology but not exactly a specialized expert in anything beyond that.
"And besides, I never really talked about my worries with anyone."
After taking a sip of water to moisten my throat, I spoke to Ria, who was sitting beside me.
"My biggest source of conflict has always been that I don’t believe in the concept of a god. Looking back, maybe I was just being stubborn."
If I had known I would end up as a Saintess candidate, I should have just gone along with things more easily. Not that my relationships would have changed entirely, but at least I might have saved myself some stress.
"And… since I never really shared my thoughts with anyone, I don’t think I ever seriously considered my own talent, either."
The original Saintess in the story, at least, knew how to fight. It wasn’t as noticeable since the knight protecting her, Lee Chae-eun, was always by her side, but she was still competent with a weapon.
Well, I never wanted to be a Saintess in the first place. I had expected to live a normal life with a regular job, so maybe I had simply been avoiding the thought altogether.
"Hmm…"
Maybe because I had suddenly brought up such a heavy topic, Ria seemed to hesitate for a moment.
We had just finished a sparring session. I had wielded a large riot shield along with a wooden sword slightly longer than a dagger, while Ria used a practice sword identical in size to the one she normally carried.
The result? My complete defeat. Even then, Ria had gone easy on me, making it just barely manageable. But I wasn’t discouraged. Just as Ria had said, I was steadily improving. At the very least, I was confident I wouldn’t be helpless if a low-tier monster suddenly appeared in front of me.
Regardless of who won or lost, sparring under the increasingly warm weather while wearing a nun’s habit wasn’t easy. Even Ria was drenched in sweat. Her pale neck glistened under the sunlight, slick with sweat. I quickly averted my gaze. Maybe that was why I had trouble focusing today.
"Haa."
Letting out a sigh, Ria seemed deep in thought.
Then, after ruffling her hair with her hand, she spoke as if confessing something.
"Well, I’ve had moments where I felt the same way."
"You have?"
"Yeah. People have expectations of me. I mean, I’m the daughter of a famous hero. Not just any famous hero, but one of the very first heroes of this country. When the Gate Crisis first broke out, my father was one of those who fought to stop it—and he became a hero, not through some formal recognition, but because people chose to call him one."
It wasn’t boasting or self-praise—it was simply the truth.
Even today, those officially registered as "heroes" are called as such because, back when society was on the brink of collapse and no proper system had been established, people had started calling those who fought back heroes. And that title had simply stuck.
Back when hero wasn’t a proper title yet, Ria’s father was already being called one.
"And my mom was incredible, too."
Ria didn’t elaborate further. That memory must have been painful for her as well.
"So yeah, everyone always had expectations for me—my dad, my uncle, even the kids I grew up with. You know what’s funny? Even my so-called friends had expectations. If I became the greatest hero, they’d benefit from it too, right? Not that they became friends with me just for that, but still, they had their hopes."
"……."
In the original story, Lee Chae-eun didn’t often express feeling pressured by such expectations. She did say she disliked it a few times—how she hated people assuming things about her, how she despised living a predetermined life. Had Ria’s story arc been fully explored, it probably would’ve delved into this.
I couldn’t quite imagine how overwhelming it must have been. To grow up with such immense expectations from childhood.
"The reason I ended up here… Well, I wasn’t planning on admitting it because it’s kind of embarrassing, but yeah. I threw a bit of a tantrum at my dad. I had just become an adult, and I wanted to experience life a little. But my dad? He wanted me to become a hero."
Ria let out a bitter laugh.
"And not just any hero—the real kind. Not the kind who just gets registered and earns a license. A true hero. Can you believe it? Telling someone who just became an adult that they should stay pure until marriage and all that crap? It was exhausting."
I already knew Ria had fought with her father. That was in the original story. I also knew exactly what she had said in anger.
"He told me to live piously, too. Sure, I was officially registered as a hero, but he said I should stay close to the church to secure a strong backing. And since gods actually exist in this world, he said faith would literally be beneficial to me."
"……That’s… quite blunt," I said cautiously.
It wasn’t my place to comment on someone else’s father. It’s like when someone complains about their sibling—you can listen, but if you criticize them too, suddenly it’s not okay.
Besides, this wasn’t an insult or anything. Just a valid grievance.
"Right? So I argued back."
Ria rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought for a moment.
"No, actually… argued isn’t the right word."
She corrected herself.
"……."
I stayed silent. Because I already knew exactly what she had said.
"I asked him if my mom died because she didn’t believe in God."
I had no idea how to respond to that.
If the person in front of me had been someone with unwavering faith, I would have simply offered my condolences. That’s just basic decency. Even as an atheist, I wouldn’t be so heartless as to argue about the afterlife in front of someone grieving.
But somehow, I felt like that wasn’t what Ria was looking for. Her mother had passed away long ago—saving countless lives in the process. And in the heat of the moment, Ria had thrown those words at her father. Letting her emotions take over.
Maybe she just needed someone to talk to.
"……."
The reason Ria’s father had sent her here. The reason she ended up spending time with the Saintess Candidate.
"……Ah."
Ria, who had been silent in thought, suddenly turned pale.
"Ah, um, I— I didn’t mean to bring it up like that. I was just trying to tell you not to feel too pressured, that’s all."
"Ria, it’s okay."
I placed my hand on her arm as I spoke.
It was an understandable mistake.
There’s a certain range of "normal" in the world. Everyone has their own unique personality, their own story. But even so, there are overlaps.
No matter what kind of father or mother someone has, the number of people who have lived an ordinary life with their parents probably outweighs those who haven’t—at least in a country as stable as this one.
People can’t help but view the world through their own lens. Until they hear about someone else’s life firsthand, they rarely understand it. A conversation that seems utterly normal to one person can unintentionally wound someone who’s lived a very different life.
In this world, I don’t have a family. But that’s fine. I had one in my past life. And honestly? My own family used to say things even harsher than Ria’s father.
"It’s okay, Ria. You can talk to me."
Still holding her arm, I offered her a gentle smile.
"We’re friends, aren’t we?"
"……."
Ria looked a little dazed at my words.
Ever since that day, she had been wearing the friendship ring. I always had mine on, too.
People sometimes glanced at us like we were a strange sight, but no one ever said anything. Not that it would matter if they did.
Friends share things they can’t say to just anyone. Even if it doesn’t solve anything, sometimes just talking makes the burden feel lighter.
Ria stared at me for a long time, silent, before finally turning away.
"……Well, still."
Without meeting my gaze, she mumbled under her breath.
"I’m glad there’s someone like you here."
At that, I beamed.
I tried to catch a glimpse of Ria's face by turning my head, but she avoided looking at me. Guess my reaction speed still isn’t fast enough.