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Chapter 164: The Silent Weeps

The high-ranking officials of the church, half-kneeling, erupted into chaos.

Everyone knew what the Fifth Saint meant.

“When the stars align and disaster awakens, the destined Saint emerges to bring eternal redemption to the world.”

What the Pope said was the prophecy that had been passed down since the Third Era, the only direction that guided them through the darkness of reality.

“Your Holiness! Please reveal the true identity of the destined Saint for us lost lambs!”

Someone shouted out, not sure who it was.

“Of course.”

The Pope smiled as if it were a given, his eyes radiating pure Holy Light.

A massive beam of light gathered, illuminating the entire Holy City as if it were daylight.

A vast wave of extraordinary power spread across the continent.

Even the people at the port on the West Continent could vaguely see distant glimmers of light appearing.

In the air above the Holy Temple, light and shadow danced, gradually outlining a blurry silhouette.

Everyone murmured and speculated endlessly.

“I never thought the legendary destined one would actually be in the West Continent. This could be tricky. What if they refuse to come back with us?”

“Indeed, with the capabilities of a Saint, even if not in the church, they’d easily be a noble lord or the elite among Adventurers.”

The concerns of the crowd were not unfounded.

There have been candidates for Saints who appeared outside the control of the church in history.

The more powerful a person, the more arrogant they tend to be, and they might not willingly walk the righteous path.

The church’s power might be enticing, but there are always those who disdain such authority.

Take the current Sword Saint, for example. He rejected the church’s olive branch and took years to privately negotiate with the Pope, finally agreeing to bow to the church.

Taking direct action for the greater good was an option.

But underestimating the power of a Saint was unwise.

Besides, taking action against the destined Saint, a legendary savior, was itself the worst decision possible.

However, the next scene took everyone by surprise.

In the light curtain, the cold night was desolate, and the wind and snow howled.

What appeared before everyone was the image of a Blonde Girl sobbing helplessly.

Though it lasted but a moment, everyone saw the bitterness in the girl’s heart.

The grand Holy Temple fell into a silence so palpable you could hear a pin drop.

Be it the church higher-ups below or the Pope above, they both fell into immense confusion.

A candidate for the Saint, the destined one, even if not fully realizing her true potential, should possess extraordinary talents close to gold level.

In any faction, she’d easily secure a position or two.

But why was she reduced to a maid?

What kind of figure could take their candidate for Saint and make her a maid, bullying her at will?!

After the initial shock, the crowd erupted into excitement.

From any perspective, she looked like a pathetic victim!

Though they had no idea why she was in such dire straits, the worse a prospective Saint fared, the better it was for them.

This meant they wouldn’t have to resort to violence, as there were plenty of ways to lure her into the church’s grasp and bring her under control!

If she became a noble lord, merely negotiating with local powers would be troublesome enough, not to mention the potential hidden risks if she had any extra ambitions.

But a mere little maid? What kind of bad intentions could she have? What could she possibly aspire to?

Getting a hold of her wouldn’t be difficult at all!

A pearl covered in dust would then be in their pocket!

In contrast to the crowd’s relief, the Pope’s expression grew heavy.

A being with strength nearly on par with the gold level, willingly acting as a maid, was simply irrational.

Controlling a maid wasn’t hard.

Or rather, controlling any candidate for Saint wasn’t hard.

The real trouble lay with the person behind her.

If that person sensed the candidate’s extraordinary talent and wished to harness such power, it would undoubtedly become a significant obstacle to the prophecy’s fulfillment.

With this thought, the Pope called softly, “Simon.”

“Your schedule needs some adjustment.”

“Aside from yourself, you may choose one bishop to accompany you on this journey.”

A young man in ecclesiastical robes approached the throne, gently nodding his head, displaying a warm and elegant smile.

Yet the high-ranking officials present couldn’t help but look upon him with respect and admiration.

[The Wise Angel] Simon Uriel, the youngest of the four bishops, one of the church’s most prioritized geniuses since its inception.

He entered the high ranks and attained divinity before hitting fifty, a talent that could rival the legendary [Six Heroes] who once saved the world.

Moreover, he was the one among the four bishops most valued by the Pope. Only he was capable of such a crucial task.

“Skip the bishop.”

“If Your Holiness permits, I’d like to invite the Sword Saint to accompany me.”

The Pope pondered for a moment and smiled lightly, “Granted.”

“Remember, regarding the future of humanity, spare no effort to bring back this destined Saint at any cost.”

The young man’s expression grew solemn as he nodded firmly, “Understood.”

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“Your prophecy has gone awry.”

In the grand hall, the Empress’s rage caused the winds and snow to howl.

Her disheveled silver hair swirled like a blizzard, and the terrifying chill made countless naked men, tied with dog leashes, tremble uncontrollably.

When an Emperor is enraged, a million corpses fall.

Yet facing the current Winter Empress, one of the strongest powers of the West Continent, the black-robed man below neither bowed nor greeted her, instead casually twirling around as if in a leisurely stroll.

With black short hair and pitch-black eyes.

His left eye swirling with chaos, deeper than the night itself, while the right seemed hollow, filled with pure nothingness.

His expression was dramatically exaggerated, like a clown forcing a grin.

“Oh dear, how strange.”

“It’s one thing for the Undead’s movements to differ from what was promised.”

“And even if it’s just a projection, a bony Empress shouldn’t lose to a mid-tier opponent.”

The man snapped his fingers, revealing a wide white smile, grinning brightly, “Haha, one can only say that there’s always something unexpected—fate is simply unfathomable like that~”

An ice storm erupted.

The vast hall instantly froze and solidified. While beneath the throne, a human dog, usually favored by the Empress, couldn’t even scream as he became an ice statue.

A boot came down, cruelly shattering one victim’s skull.

The silver-haired Empress’s fury was nearly explosive.

On her pallid, bloodless face, a cruel and twisted coldness crept in: “Clown, if your prophecy holds no value, then you have no reason to live.”

“Oh wow! How terrifying! But if I must die, I hope it is under your feet!”

Kneeling, he wailed exaggeratedly, but when he stood up again, the clown’s smile deepened.

“Let me explain.”

“What is called fate has never been fixed. What is called prophecy can certainly be broken. Some special powers always bring little surprises unexpectedly.”

“Go on.” The Empress’s expression softened slightly.

“To give a few examples, um, the wretched beasts from the East Continent, and the deceased Demon King… oh, the recent error from the Demon Race must certainly have the Demon King’s influence behind it.”

The clown wasn’t lying.

However, there was still one more force that could influence fate.

But this old lady isn’t his mother, so why should he reveal everything? Men always keep one or two secrets, right?

“By the way, that Demon King consuming the life-burning blow from the Undying Bird and still living is as disgusting as cockroaches!”

Demon King.

A term that once made the entire human world tremble, yet in his mouth, it became something to belittle casually.

Though he found this unfathomable guy annoying, the Winter Empress had to admit his depth.

His knowledge of the prophecies concerning the world’s fate and insights into various factions, as well as the forgotten past, always shocked her.

But that all paled in comparison to her immediate concern.

“I just want to know what I must do to reclaim what’s rightfully mine from that wretch of the Andervess family.”

Xue Nuo hadn’t just defended the borders; through her victory against the Demon Race, she completely solidified her power and even established connections with sorcerer academies, the Kingdom of Internships, the Emerald Council, and more.

No emperor would allow such significant risks to linger on their borders.

“Well…”

The man squinted, his features contorting into an exaggerated arc.

“The [Rose of Ice] is merely a troublesome little flower to you, just waiting for the right moment to be crushed underfoot.”

“Before that, it’s best to keep an eye on those church bastards!”

“Their good show is just about to begin~”

 

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