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Chapter 233: The Unfeeling Saint

The clear moonlight of the night was still as pure and flawless as ever.

In the City of Saint Sanos, among the clutter of the Lingyin Merchant Association’s warehouse ruins, a faintly distorted silver glow suddenly ignited.

The almost imperceptible halo unveiled the items obscuring it, resembling a silver flower breaking through the ground, ultimately yielding a brilliant fruit—a slightly rippling spatial portal.

About three seconds later, a girl slowly stepped out from within.

Clad in an elegant platinum robe, her wave-like long hair shimmered like flawless crystal, bright eyes and shining teeth, crowned with a radiant diadem—a pure figure of holiness.

Her arrival illuminated the dilapidated and cluttered warehouse like a ray of light bathing the earth, awakening the surroundings with its brilliance.

Of course, it was an illusion.

But the girl’s presence felt so close to the essence of “light” itself, a wondrous sensation that transcended mere charisma or appearance, resonating more with intrinsic nature, the very roots of existence.

As she descended from the portal, her feet, encased in elegant short boots, lightly touched the ground. She paused for a moment, glanced back at the slowly vanishing exit, revealing a pure, unblemished smile, then gracefully strolled forward.

She left the warehouse and walked out of the Lingyin Merchant Association’s old site, entering the vast, empty moonlit expanse, where the night remained eerily tranquil.

She moved onward.

Soon, the girl found herself in the bustling, chaotic streets.

Groups of Demon Guardians darted to and fro, while lurking in the shadows were shadow demons gliding like hunters. Occasionally, imposing demon dragon beasts with expansive wings flitted through the moonlight.

The entire city was on high alert, seeking out hostile figures; any local beings, even showing the slightest suspicion, would be immediately captured or slain.

Sounds of dragging, fighting, and wailing erupted now and then from somewhere in the streets. Aside from apprehending those who dared to wander outside their homes, demons occasionally smashed through tightly locked doors to invade private residences and conduct searches.

Alongside the terrified screams of women and children, there were the clattering and crashing sounds of items being upturned, merging into a cold, merciless sweep.

The girl witnessed and heard everything.

The spilled fresh blood sometimes even splattered near her feet, mingling with the mournful cries of the dead and the nearly instinctive prayer from those on the brink of death, “God, please save us… Save this city,” echoing like a dirge that tormented every faithful heart.

Yet she did nothing.

She walked silently forward, like a saint traversing through hell, a deep sorrow and piety emanating from her pure, flawless countenance.

Her hands clasped in front of her, she offered prayers for the hellish sights and the departed.

[Great and sublime source of light, I praise Your name.]

[You are the embodiment of dawn and hope.]

[You are the first ray of light in the world, the master of all that is beautiful and bright.]

[I offer sincere prayers to You.]

[May the Holy Light be upon me, dispelling evil and clarifying my heart.]

Chanting, she continued forward, stepping over the blood and corpses of the deceased.

The rushing demons paid her no mind, and the suffering souls did not reflect the saint’s figure in their eyes; even the pristine March moon’s glow failed to intertwine with her presence.

The girl vanished at the end of the street.

When she reappeared, she stood beneath the towering, majestic temple.

“…”

Next to an excavated desolate ruin, the girl scanned her surroundings.

Soon, she found her target and approached the hewn mark.

“Swish!”

A silver sword light abruptly tore through the night!

No figure was seen, but a blade, imbued with strong wind and edge, rushed straight toward the blonde girl’s face!

“Good swordsmanship.”

She praised, yet without raising a finger, a golden shield sprang up, crashing against the oncoming sword light, sending waves of energy and a hum into the air.

The attacker’s figure finally revealed itself to the girl.

It was a girl wielding a blunt sword without an edge, seemingly a practice weapon, with long black hair tied into a ponytail, dressed in martial attire, tall, her limbs long and proportionate, emanating an air of capability.

The girl’s beauty could hardly be denied, but her gaze was particularly sharp and cold, like a protective mother leopard facing the threat of an outsider encroaching upon her territory.

As the residual waves subsided, the blonde girl appeared unfazed, lowering her slightly damaged shield, her pale blue gaze flickering momentarily on the blunt sword, then she seemed to awaken as if enlightened.

“So, you’re Qily of Without Edge, the fourth disciple of the Sword Saint of the Gale. I heard you participated in the war of the Sanos Province while traveling, helping the Holy Kingdom resist the demon invasion, and then you vanished; I see…”

“I’ve heard that the sword of Without Edge can indeed achieve the utmost transformation, and it’s said to have the strongest attack power among the six disciples of the Sword Saint; it truly is remarkable~”

Though she received generous praise, the girl named Qily, the swordswoman of Without Edge, merely raised her blunt sword once more, her expression cold.

“Saint, this is not a place for you.”

The blonde girl smiled.

“This is the central temple of the City of Saint Sanos, where every brick and tile is laid by my Church of the Goddess, a sanctum for the worship of the divine. If a saint shouldn’t be here, who else would be more fitting?”

“I think… at the very least, it shouldn’t be demons, right?”

“You’re asking for death!”

“Enough~ Qily, retreat.”

The chilling aura of the blunt sword in the swordswoman’s hand suddenly flared once more, but a languid voice, gentle and seemingly overflowing with endless allure, resonated quietly from the moonlight above the temple, causing the former to tremble slightly and promptly stand at attention, her sword sheathed in respect.

“As you command, my master.”

Without much surprise, when she looked up, the blonde girl’s eyes fell upon an elegantly floating girl above the temple’s ruins, her black demonic wings unfurled behind her, her silky pink hair reflecting a strange sheen beneath the silver moonlight.

She wore a magnificent gown akin to that of a human noble, yet it seemed to barely conceal her smooth, fair shoulders and beautiful back, the plump curvature bouncing gently in the air, subtly swaying with the flaps of the girl’s wings, outlining a captivating and profound valley.

“Pat.”

She landed gracefully from the air, her agile wings gradually drooping, dangling at her sides, while the tips hung lazily in the air.

Each glance and smile, every tiny movement seemed to exude an endless allure from the girl, making one involuntarily want to focus their gaze upon her.

This was the charm of a “Succubus.”

In fact, since the moment the latter had appeared and landed a short distance before the blonde girl, the swordswoman Qily, known for her “Without Edge,” had not been able to divert her gaze from the Succubus, merely gazing at her with infatuation, the previous coldness she displayed toward the blonde girl having melted into a pool of spring water and mist.

It was evident that she had been captured, body and soul, by the Succubus, willingly succumbing to her every command even without the use of “charm” powers.

Yet neither the blonde girl nor the newly appeared Succubus lingered their gaze on this powerful disciple of the Sword Saint for long, merely exchanging silent observations in an invisible confrontation.

Eventually, the Succubus helplessly shook her head, the pink glow swirling in her purple eyes gradually fading.

This was a way for the “Succubus” to indicate that they meant no harm.

“Ah, it’s you. You truly have some guts and skills, daring to come alone to the demon’s city at such a time.”

The clear, fluent sacred language flowed from the pink-haired Succubus standing under the moonlight.

“Saint of Bright Light, Yuna Summerfield.”