The Grill-Wielding Saintess of the Dead

Attention

Long ago, to put it in years, it was 55 years ago. Or maybe it could have been 50 years ago.

The Saintess, the Hero, and the Witch all aimed to quickly forget their bad memories and hold onto the good ones. Otherwise, the nightmares would creep up on them like ghosts, threatening to engulf their minds.

Now, they lived happily, but back then, the human Isia stood at the front lines of the war against the Demon King as the Mangja Seongnyeo. By her side stood Menelapie, while Teresa walked a perilous tightrope, poised to have her soul torn apart by the Demon King at any moment.

In the end, the Hero party, including Isia, triumphed. The Demon King was utterly destroyed over three days and nights, his life thread severed by the Hero’s sword, and torn into hundreds or thousands of pieces by the Black Witch’s wicked alchemy, ensuring he would never come back together.

Contrary to what Isia reported during an ethical audit by the Returnee Management Bureau—saying that they had defeated the Demon King and restored peace to the world—his remnants still lingered deeply within it.

With the destruction of the ruler of darkness, countless cults and monsters rushed in, proclaiming they would become the new Demon King, spilling blood across the continent.

The Malakent Council, composed of 13 Elder Liches, had absorbed the traitorous humans who collaborated with the Demon King and declared war on the Empire. Even human nations, worried about becoming the new ruler, pointed their swords at each other, trying to shatter the peace that the Hero party had painstakingly restored.

If Isia were to describe the situation back then, she wouldn’t need many adjectives.

[Hell]

Ah, yes, hell.
War is hell. What better description could there be?

Compared to the mundane life of a citizen in Korea, having served in the military, Isia—now more seasoned—saw no glory in the horrifying scene of death and destruction.

“You feel good when you fight and win, right?”

“Not at all.”

Instead of the joy of victory, a sense of relief washed over her for surviving, but then came the constant fear of needing to fight again tomorrow.

The knights, sipping from the blood of their comrades and sharpening their dull swords while washing away the malice vomited forth by the Demon King’s army, were filled with emptiness and bitterness.

In a reality where comrades who had fought together just moments ago lay in pieces, unable even to find a single body for a proper burial, some were even obliterated so completely by Elder Liches or Black Dragons that their very existence was forgotten.

Knights, who once only struck the Demon King’s minions, now had to slay humans who had turned against them, which was naturally soul-crushing.

“Come on, everyone, gather around.”

“……”

“Sniff, sniff…”

“…Hiccup.”

Embracing the sad and grieving knights, Isia smiled. They were not allowed to weep, as the Saintess had to smile.

She had to empathize with their pain and suffering, while even if she shed tears with them, she must still smile. If the wounded souls she tended to showed despair, who would they lean on?

Ironically, in what could be more dreadful times than the Demon King’s reign, Isia found there was much she could do.

“The best situation would be one where I become completely useless.”

She would embrace those dejected souls as the Mangja Seongnyeo. Although she didn’t know how to comfort the souls of the living, just having the Saintess beside them, who had defeated the Demon King, gave them strength, and merely feeling that the Saintess empathized with their pain began to heal their spirits.

After embracing the living, it was time to care for the dead.

[Miracle – Orphan’s Sanctuary]

“To those who have forgotten warmth, I say this.”

Pouring warmth over the grieving knights and soldiers, Isia shouted. Even amidst the silence, her voice was graceful and noble.

“I will reach my hand out to those who are oppressed to do the right thing.”

What I can do is heal physical wounds, cure diseases, share your pains and purify the filth residing within your bodies… Well, come to think of it, I can actually do quite a lot!

Anyway, I need to do my best to comfort them.

“Please, when you reach out your hands, let us hold each other. We are here, and I am here beside you, so do not feel lonely. Please, do not forget this warmth.”

Isia was not someone with profound religious faith. She became the Mangja Seongnyeo by chance and won against the Demon King, but that didn’t mean she had become a pastor or priest with excellent speaking skills.

Thus, Isia simply spoke what was in her heart.

“We who stand together shall be united, and I shall be with you. I will not let you grieve alone. I shall share your pain, and at the end of our sorrow, we shall all rejoice together.”

“Sniff, hiccup…”

“Uu…”

“Gulp, hwuh…”

They cried, touching their struggles and sorrow together.

It was ironic that, rather than grand prayers, the knights and soldiers shed tears upon hearing the simple words “I will share your pain and rejoice with you.”

It was the words they longed most to hear.

In the hellish war, in the midst of an endless battle, Isia prayed for them.

Though she was not born a Saintess, she aspired to be one.

As her prayer, akin to a testimony, came to an end, Isia saw the soldiers quietly crying and the knights whose souls had been healed.

She smiled at them and quietly shouted her healing blessing.

“Stand firm, you all. I guarantee it, and the Emperor shall guarantee it; do not doubt this…”

[Miracle – Great Healing]

“You are blessed simply by your existence.”

○○○

Should we call this another war with the already dead Demon King? Even though he has passed on, the world remains fractured, and strife continues because the traces and taint he left behind are so tremendous.

Indeed, the Demon King fell at the hands of the Hero party, but the world still seems to need more time to recover.

[Miracle – Great Healing]

Isia visited the Emperor’s Tent, where soldiers and knights awaited her healing and blessings, comforting them all.

No matter how chaotic the situation became, there was no defeat.

From beginning to end, the scenario favored the Empire, ruled by Menelapie and the Hero party.

Teresa and Menelapie had huddled together, calculating and pondering numerous times, figuring that if they could finally defeat the Demon King, then they could also defeat the Elder Lich Council and the cults.

Wherever the Hero party went, there was victory, and even though there were losses and sacrifices, it ultimately ended in triumph.

No matter how deep the wounds, as long as one was alive, Isia could heal them all.

Teresa’s lethal magic was terrifying enough to defeat the traitors’ armies attempting to stab the Empire in the back all on her own, and Menelapie continued leading the armies of the Empire with tireless endurance, wielding her sword as a hero and lady of the Empire.

However, that didn’t mean there were no injured.

War is hell, and saving everyone in hell is impossible.

Even with Isia tending to countless soldiers and knights without sleeping, someone still dies somewhere, and some are left with scars of the soul that cannot be washed away.

Though the Demon King was gone, other dangers remained, and even now, traitors were trying to raise the odds in their favor by transforming the helpless into monsters.

At least during the war with the Demon King, the devastation inflicted on civilians wasn’t as extreme.

After all, the Demon King concentrated on targeting military opponents.

Yesterday, the villagers who received relief supplies turned out to be cursed by the Malakent Council’s Lich, turning into monsters at night and attacking soldiers.

Knights who weren’t scared of the Demon King’s minions likely found themselves losing morale because of this.

There were many humans collaborating with the enemy, most of whom had once been those they wished to protect.

“Ugh, today’s work is done.”

After finishing her healing work for the day, Isia stretched her sore back and limbs. Wanting to appear more saintly, she had been smiling all day, making her facial muscles feel like they were about to cramp.

With a slightly droopy feeling, Isia headed toward the tent where Menelapie was.

The palace execution knights on guard saluted upon seeing her, and Isia casually returned the gesture, entering Menelapie’s tent as if she were in her own home.

No matter how tough or dull the work was, she always looked forward to this time.

Returning to Menelapie after finishing her duties, she found that Menelapie always prepared meals that Isia would love.

Spending time leisurely eating under the night sky after finishing all the tasks was one of the few moments of respite and healing in this drawn-out war.

Just as the soldiers and knights needed Isia to embrace their wounds, Isia needed Menelapie as a target to help mitigate her fatigue and stress.

“Menelapie~! I’m back…”

“…….”

But what Isia saw was the figure of Menelapie, resting in her chair, eyes gently closed, amidst a clutter of paperwork.

The Emperor’s Tent, made of magical materials, was quite spacious and luxurious, but the silence had an eerie thickness, causing Isia to remain quiet as she crept toward her.

The table before Menelapie was filled with the battlefield map, numerous administrative documents from across the Empire and the palace.

Though she hadn’t returned from the frontlines, Menelapie couldn’t ignore the matters within the Empire.

Having worked tirelessly until just now, fatigue seemed to linger on her face.

“She must be incredibly tired.”

Isia pushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen across Menelapie’s face as she gazed at her dreaming, pale visage.

Indeed, she was the Emperor. Even exhausted, her mere presence was as beautiful as a masterpiece.

Without a doubt, Isia thought Menelapie was the most beautiful person she knew, even though Teresa was lovely in her own way.

For a while, Isia watched Menelapie’s sleeping face quietly.

Yet, her brow furrowed occasionally, hinting she might be dreaming a nightmare.

“I wonder what kind of dream she’s having?”

Curious, Isia placed her finger on Menelapie’s forehead.

A miracle is what makes the impossible possible.

Isia didn’t fully understand the workings or mechanisms of miracles, even wielding Seongnyeok herself, but unconsciously she desired to see Menelapie’s dreams and inner visions, and her Seongnyeok granted that wish.

“Ah.”

As her eyes fluttered open, Isia found herself in a world soaked in crimson.

Blood and steel.
Armor and corpses.
Demons and monsters.
Humans and beasts.
Traitors and knights.
Allies and enemies.

Everything was mixed together in a muddy place of blood.

And there in that chaos, Menelapie sat down.

“This… I don’t want it.”

“……!”

Isia was incredibly shocked.

At least the Menelapie she knew had never fallen.

She had never shown weakness and always stood tall. Even in moments of crisis, she would find solutions as the most brilliant hero and emperor.

Not just humanity’s hero, but Isia’s as well.

Seeing the weak side of someone she had considered so strong, Isia couldn’t help but remain silent.

‘This must be the world she fears the most…’

No matter how favorable the situation was, fatigue would accumulate.

Menelapie’s worst nightmare and fear was of failing.

She thought they had pushed through all the pain and sacrifice to finally defeat the Demon King, only to now face countless threats boiling from every corner of the world that were against the Empire, causing tremendous stress and mental exhaustion to build within her.

“Ugh.”

Once more awakening from Menelapie’s dream, Isia returned to reality.

‘Right… soldiers and I depend on Menelapie, yet she has no one to lean on.’

Menelapie still seemed trapped in her nightmare, slightly furrowing her brows as she slept.

“Then I’ll be the one she can lean on!”

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