I’m Alraune, a plant monster.
One day, the little witch I live with suddenly turned to me and asked a question.
"Hey, Alraune, have you ever thought about wanting to be a Saint?"
"Wh-what?! I-I’m... a plant monster... so that... isn't something... I’m really... interested in..."
"I guess so. Alraune is just Alraune, after all."
"Exactly... ahaha..."
Talk about a surprise. What had gotten into the little witch, asking about Saints all of a sudden?
Earlier that day, she had gone into town to receive her travel training from that flashy man. I assumed she had just gotten back for the evening, but then she hit me with that out of nowhere. We had almost never talked about Saints before.
What on earth happened in town!?
At any rate, if we kept talking about Saints, I was liable to let something slip. I had to find a way to shift the focus.
"Rufe... have you... ever thought... about wanting... to be... a Saint?"
"I have..."
"Wait, you have!?"
"When I was a little girl, I used to admire them."
Rufe... You’re still a little girl now, aren't you?
I wondered just how young the little witch meant when she said "as a little girl." It must have been before she met me in the forest, at the very least.
"Alraune... I never knew. It turns out Saints were much more incredible than I imagined."
"Is... that so? Come to think of it... Nina... the girl from town... went from an apprentice Saint... to a full Saint... didn't she?"
"Nina-san certainly became one, but Saints aren't all like her. I heard that there are some truly inhuman Saints in this world."
An inhuman Saint?
Even if I was a former Saint myself, I’d never heard stories like that.
"What kind... of Saint... are they?"
"According to what I heard in town, if their arms or legs get torn off, they just grow back immediately."
What in the world...? She sounds more like a lizard than a Saint.
And yet, that sounded exactly like me now that I’m a plant monster. Since I’m a plant, I can regenerate as much as I want as long as my roots are intact.
"And apparently, she’s an immortal Saint."
An immortal Saint? That sounded like First Saint Nemea, who was said to have mastered Light Recovery Magic so thoroughly that she could heal any wound in an instant.
Well, I could do the exact same thing back in my Saint Iris era. I was actually quite talented, believe it or not!
"And so, it seems the Demon Race called her 'Grim Reaper Iris.'"
"I see. Grim Reaper Iris, huh... wait, what?! Grim Reaper... Iris!?!?"
C-c-c-could it be... that Iris is... me!?!?
No, there was no way. I had never once acted like a "Grim Reaper" in my life. During my time as a Saint, everyone praised me, saying I was like a Goddess!
Surely, it had to be someone else with the same name. But was there ever another famous Saint named Iris besides me...?
"Hey, did you know? Apparently, Saint Iris was a scary person."
"Eh..."
A scary person?
Saint Iris—me??
"Where... did you... hear that... story?"
"They told me at the Adventurer Guild."
"I... I see..."
Was I actually feared? Everyone used to call Saint Iris an angel, or a Saint as kind as a Goddess. I’d always tried to be gentle and kind to the people, so I never had any reason to doubt their words.
And yet, I was a "scary person"?
That can’t be true... can it?
"Alraune, what’s wrong? Why do you look so sad?"
"No... it’s nothing. I just... lost a little bit... of confidence... that’s all..."
Ugh... if I wasn't careful, the nectar would start leaking from my eyes. To think that people actually saw me that way...
"By the way... who... did you hear... that from?"
"A man named Nebiros at the Adventurer Guild... well, he might not actually be a man, but someone like that."
"Nebiros... if I recall... he was Yasmin's Papa... wasn't he? Which means... he’s a demon!"
That Yasmin's Papa! What kind of nonsense is he filling the little witch's head with?
Actually, if she heard it from him, everything made sense. Calling Saint Iris "scary" was entirely from the perspective of the Demon Race! It just meant that I was feared by the Demon King's Army!
It was still a shock, but I suppose it couldn't be helped. After all, it was technically the truth.
Because my Light Recovery Magic could fix severed limbs in an instant, no one in my party ever died. On top of that, we never lost a single battle against the Demon King's Army. We even took down the Four Heavenly Kings. I had a vague feeling we were feared, but I didn't think they'd call me that.
Wait—was that why Saint Iris—I—was killed?
Targeting the healer first is a fundamental tactic in any war. Furthermore, Zelma, who had been an apprentice Saint, was in league with the Witch Queen. If the little witch's information was correct, Zelma was originally from the Witch's Village. In other words, she was an enemy of humanity and the natural enemy of a Saint.
Assassinating Saint Iris might have been a calculated move by the Witch Queen and Zelma. After all, once Saint Iris—I—was gone, the Hero’s party collapsed. From the enemy’s perspective, my death was likely a dream come true...
"I heard Saint Iris was a strong and terrifying woman. I wonder what she was really like."
As she spoke, the little witch stared intently at my face.
Even she knew that my current face resembled Saint Iris. That was likely why she was looking at me, but it felt incredibly awkward. I felt as though she might see right through me and realize my true identity.
"It’s okay, Alraune. Don't worry. Saint Iris might have been scary, but you’re very cute."
Using her levitation magic, the little witch floated up in front of me. She reached out and began to pat my head gently. "There, there," she cooed.
"...Rufe?"
"My Alraune is the most beautiful person in the world. No one will ever be scared of you, so don't you worry."
The little witch was trying to comfort me. She probably thought I was worried that I, as an Alraune, would be feared by those around me just like the Saint Iris she'd heard about.
Well, since we were the same person, I was indeed shocked. But now I felt like it was going to be even harder to tell her the truth. If she ever found out I was Saint Iris, would she become afraid of me too?
In the end, it seemed best to keep my identity hidden, just as I had been doing.
"Come to think of it, did you know, Alraune? I heard Saint Iris was the Hero's fiancée. But I forgot to ask if they ever actually got married."
Ah, that...
"It seems... those two... never... got married."
"I see. You're very well-informed, Alraune."
"I was... told... about it... a long time ago."
I had learned that fact shortly after becoming an Alraune. It was back when I had captured Armin—now the nectar-loving boy—in the forest and was keeping him as a pet.
A lot has happened since then, but while I was living in the forest, the news of those two felt like someone else's business. I was a plant monster who couldn't leave the woods; I never expected to see them again.
But that was in the past. Now, I was capable of traveling long distances. What’s more, I was about to head toward the Royal Capital with the little witch and the others.
—I might actually run into them.
If I met the two people who killed me, what would I even say? Back when I was all alone in the forest, I used to think about it constantly. But ever since I started living with the little witch, those thoughts had almost entirely faded away.
The little witch took her hand off my head and murmured as if she’d just remembered one last thing.
"Oh, right. They said that even though Saint Iris was scary, she really cared for her comrades."
"She cared for... her comrades..."
"Saint Iris must have been a kind person deep down, don't you think?"
I couldn't help but smile. It didn't feel half bad to hear that.
If that was the last thing she had to say on the matter, I suppose I could call it a win.
Next time: Treant becomes the coachman.