The Incompetent "Empty Saint" – Chapter 1
**"Tiana, you truly are a hopeless incompetent."**
**"...I-I'm... sorry..."**
My hands pressed against the cold floor as I bowed my head low.
Standing before me, High Saint Sylvia let out a disdainful snort at the sight of me.
**"Hehe, Tiana has almost no magical power, after all. You should forgive her."**
**"Even so, it’s truly baffling how she’s still considered a Saint like the rest of us."**
The voices of the two other Saints beside Sylvia giggled mockingly.
**"And yet, she dares to call herself a Saint—what a joke."**
Their words pierced my heart like thorns, the pain festering deep inside.
—I, Tiana Everett, am one of the Saints of the Kingdom of Faron.
Born with the sacred magical attribute and vast mana reserves unique to Saints, I was taken to the temple at the age of two.
Back then, I was even said to be a candidate for the next High Saint. But as the years passed, my mana dwindled, and now, at seventeen, it has nearly dried up completely.
Despite my title as a Saint, I can no longer heal the sick or wounded, exorcise monsters, erect barriers, or purify the land.
*"Useless waste of space, just disappear already."*
*"I-I'm sorry..."*
Day after day, I endure insults and blows while being forced to do menial chores like cleaning and laundry. To prevent public unrest over the idea of a Saint losing their power, I’m kept hidden within the temple.
Before I knew it, I had become known as the *"Incompetent Empty Saint"* within the halls of Faron’s temple.
*(Why... why did my mana disappear?)*
Mana is supposed to grow with age, not diminish. I don’t understand what’s happening to me—some even whisper that I’m *"cursed"* or *"being punished by the gods."*
**"...Ngh!"**
A sharp pain shot through my hand as Sylvia’s high heel pressed down on it. If I resisted or tried to flee, it would only worsen her mood, so I bit my lip and endured.
*(Powerless, weak, and unable to do anything but apologize—this is all I can do.)*
**"You should be grateful that I’ve allowed a worthless thing like you to remain in the temple as a Saint."**
**"Th... thank... you..."**
Somehow, I managed to force out the words of gratitude. Sylvia then commanded, **"Look up."**
Slowly raising my head, my eyes met hers, her crimson lips curling into a smirk.
Though I’ve lived under Sylvia’s care since before I could remember, I’ve never once seen her smile at me.
A terrible premonition coiled in my chest.
**"But that ends today. I have a *wonderful* job for you, my useless little Saint."**
As I stared blankly, confused by her words, she continued.
**"You’re going to the Rieves Empire. *Officially*, as our kingdom’s Saint."**
**"Wh... what...?"**
Across from me, the other two Saints burst into laughter.
—The Rieves Empire was a nation not far from here. Once, it had flourished more than any other, producing countless Saints and even High Saints.
But after the previous High Saint’s death, no new Saints were born. Monsters multiplied, plagues spread, crops withered—now, it was known as the *"Cursed Land."*
I’d even heard whispers of other nations looking down on the empire.
*(Sending a powerless Saint like me to such a place... What does this mean...?)*
**"Lady Sylvia, even if Tiana goes, what good would she do for *that* country?"**
**"None at all. But His Majesty insists on sending *one* Saint to the empire. And I can’t possibly send either of you, can I?"**
Saints were precious in every nation.
Our kingdom had High Saint Sylvia and three Saints—myself included—but I’d heard that other countries were lucky to have even one.
Though calling *me* a Saint was nothing short of a joke.
**"Besides, Tiana *does* possess the sacred magical attribute. It’s not a lie."**
**"True, though her mana is practically nonexistent."**
**"B-but... wouldn’t the empire be furious...?"**
Trembling, I dared to voice my concern. Sylvia dismissed it with a wave.
**"So what if they are? It’s no concern of ours. That country will fall sooner or later anyway."**
**"That’s...!"**
**"For once in your miserable life, you’ll be of use to our kingdom. You should be *grateful*."**
Despair washed over me, my vision swaying as darkness crept in.
If I were sent to a nation crying out for a Saint’s salvation—only to bring them *nothing*—I could already imagine the wrath I’d face.
*(They’ll direct their fury at me... I might suffer even worse than I do now...!)*
Trembling at the thought, I begged Sylvia to reconsider.
**"P-please... I’ll do anything else... anything at all... ngh—!"**
But before I could finish, Sylvia’s rod struck me hard, sending me crashing to the floor.
**"‘*Anything at all*’? Don’t make me laugh. You can’t do *anything*—yet you dare talk back?"**
**"...Ghk... ugh..."**
She grabbed my hair, yanking my face up to hers.
**"You leave in three days. The empire’s delegation will come for you then. And you *know* what happens if you try to run, don’t you? Let’s go, you two."**
**"Yes, ma’am! We’ll keep working hard here for you, Lady Sylvia!"**
**"Though, without Tiana, who’s going to polish the rods? That’s going to be a problem."**
**"True. She *did* use the last scraps of her sacred magic to clean them."**
As the three of them walked away, chatting cheerfully, I remained sprawled on the floor, tears streaming down my face.
**"...What should I do...?"**
My whisper dissolved into the air, unheard by anyone.