CA - Chapter 235
Chapter 235
The battle of the Shas Principality, later known as the “Second Holy War,” lasted for seven days and seven nights before coming to a tragic end with the resealing of the Blood Demon. The Werewolves, Elves, and the Holy See all suffered heavy casualties. In particular, the blonde Archbishop who had single-handedly turned the tide and resealed the Blood Demon underground sustained unknown injuries and vanished without a trace.
After the Blood Demon was sealed, the Saintess, Reese, and the others finally succeeded in sealing the gate to the Dark World. They had severely overdrawn their mental energy and the Power of Light; upon their success, they lacked even the strength to hold their staves.
Even so, the Saintess and Reese pushed through their exhaustion, leading their people to search the Shas Principality countless times to find where Tang Qiu had fallen. Regrettably, they found no clues and could only lead their people back to the Holy Nation for the time being.
Ten days after the battle ended, the Holy See began sending people to clean up the aftermath. Although both the Blood Demon and the gate to the Dark World had been resealed, some of the demonic creatures that had escaped from the Dark World had managed to slip away unnoticed by the Holy See, the Werewolves, and the Elves.
They were few in number, but they still caused some trouble.
Moreover, some of the Dark Arrays left behind by the Black Witches had yet to be cleared. There was still a long road ahead before the Statu Continent could return to peace.
To seal the dark vortex, the Saintess, Reese, and the others had frequently overdrawn their mental energy to use light spells, causing some damage to their bodies. But it was a busy time for the Holy See, leaving them no spare time to rest and recover.
Reese sat under the sun, her face pale. The warm sunlight shone on her, yet it failed to add any color to her complexion. She let out a weary yawn and, propping her chin on one hand, casually flipped through a mountain of church affairs. To her right sat a cup, its rose tea long since cold.
Footsteps approached from behind. Reese glanced over her shoulder nonchalantly and sighed, “When can I get a day off?”
She held up her hand, showing the newcomer the back of it, which was covered in bloody marks caused by overdrawing her mental energy and the Power of Light.
The Saintess glanced down, then walked over and sat opposite Reese. She said flatly, “You’re the one with the lightest injuries.” Vogt and Bruce fell unconscious after overdrawing their mental energy and still haven’t woken up.
Reese looked as if she wanted to shove her hand in the Saintess’s face. “Light they may be, but I’m still injured.”
She pushed the pile of church documents toward the Saintess, picked up the cup beside her, and took a sip of tea. In a tone that brooked no refusal, she said, “I’m going home early today.”
The Saintess looked up and studied Reese. Although her complexion was poor, her spirits seemed quite good. When she spoke of going home, the corners of her mouth had lifted involuntarily.
She said thoughtfully, “You seem to be in a good mood lately.”
“The Blood Demon has been sealed, and the forces of darkness have fallen silent. Am I not allowed to be happy about that?”
As she spoke, Reese set down her cup, stood, and straightened her sleeves, looking ready to leave. The Saintess raised a hand to stop her, handing her a piece of parchment. “Take a look at this first.”
Reese took it and scanned it quickly, her brow furrowing slightly. “What is Gabriel trying to do?”
When they were attacked by the Anderson witches, Vogt sent distress calls to all the Cardinals. Even Bruce, who was the farthest away, rushed over, but there was no sign of movement from Gabriel.
After the battle in the Shas Principality, the Saintess issued several orders in the Pope’s name, summoning Gabriel back to the Central Church, but all of them went unanswered.
“Is he planning a rebellion?” Reese handed the parchment back, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “If I were him, I certainly would.”
To be honest, after the battle in the Shas Principality, the Holy See suffered heavy casualties and its strength was greatly diminished. Gabriel didn’t participate in the battle, so his contingent of bishops and priests remains intact. He definitely has the power to fight.
His attack on the Holy Nation would be an internal war for the Holy See; the Elves and Werewolves certainly wouldn’t be interested in participating. Moreover, Grace, who shone so brightly in the Shas Principality battle, is missing. And with her and the Saintess’s mental energy damaged, they can’t use high-level light spells. This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
“He’s waiting and watching.” The Saintess’s expression was a little grave. “He isn’t sure if Grace is truly missing.”
The Holy See couldn’t afford any more internal strife. If Gabriel chose to rebel, regardless of the outcome, the Holy See was bound to suffer a devastating blow. Whether it could rise again would be uncertain.
Reese clicked her tongue, finding the situation rather tricky as well. She leaned against the table, tapping her fingers on its surface. After a moment of contemplation, she pursed her lips and said, “Let’s leave this mess for Grace to handle. She’s been resting long enough.”
The Saintess’s heart stirred. She looked up at her. “You have news of Grace?”
“No.” Seeing the Saintess frown, Reese shrugged. “But I have a feeling she’ll be back soon.”
Seeing the Saintess staring at the parchment with a worried frown, she reached out, snatched it, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it toward a basin of water. “It’s decided then,” she said nonchalantly. “We’ll leave the problem of Gabriel to Grace. Consider it a test for the future Pope.”
Reese saw the Saintess’s brow finally begin to relax. She smiled slightly, chatted with her for a few more moments, and then left.
The Saintess watched Reese’s back until she disappeared before looking away. The day was still bright, just past noon. She turned to the attendant priest behind her and asked, “Has Reese been going home this early all the time recently?”
The attendant priest nodded, then added, “I believe Bishop Monica is at Archbishop Reese’s manor.”
So that was the reason. The Saintess thought for a moment, then said in a flat tone, “Tomorrow, have Bishop Monica come over to assist Reese.”
To stop a Cardinal of her stature from constantly finding lame excuses to skip work.
Gabriel, who Reese had branded a rebel, did indeed harbor rebellious thoughts. The reason he hadn’t acted yet was, just as the Saintess had said, because he was observing Tang Qiu’s situation.
When he received Vogt’s distress call, Gabriel had actually led his men to provide support, but he was a little later than the others. By the time he arrived, the gate to the Dark World had already been opened.
The demonic creatures emerging from the Dark World and the awakening Blood Demon made Gabriel, who had intended to join the battle, suddenly change his mind and choose to retreat.
The Blood Demon was too powerful. Gabriel almost instantly wrote them off as defeated—the Elves, the Werewolves, and the Holy See.
Even with his participation, it seemed it would have no effect on the situation. So why should he go there just to die?
Being cannon fodder on the battlefield was not in his nature. Gabriel was waiting. Although he believed the three parties—the Holy See, the Elves, and the Werewolves—were no match for the Blood Demon, he didn’t think the Blood Demon could annihilate them without suffering any damage itself.
When both sides were grievously wounded, he would then lead his subordinates—nearly half the Holy See’s forces—to clean up the mess. Not only would the Holy See fall directly into his hands, but the entire Statu Continent would be his.
The Holy See might suffer a devastating blow, but Gabriel didn’t care. He had plenty of time to develop the Holy See, to build a perfect version in his own image, completely according to his own will.
Gabriel felt his chance had come. He waited patiently, until… that blonde Archbishop he had never taken seriously single-handedly turned the entire situation around.
Gabriel’s face couldn’t help but darken at the memory of that day. God’s Light… That blonde Archbishop had secretly learned the Forbidden Technique, something he had been unable to obtain from the Pope despite using every means at his disposal.
Thinking of the Pope, Gabriel swept everything off his desk with a furious swipe and cursed under his breath.
If the Pope hadn’t suddenly lost his mind and insisted on passing his position to his own stupid son, the Holy See would have been his long ago.
He had spent over a decade scheming to ruin the Holy Son, then had him eliminated without a trace. He thought everything was under his control, but Gabriel was only now realizing that things had started to spin out of his control after the Holy Son’s death.
First, the Saintess—who had no power base in the Central Church, posed no threat, and whose only purpose was to assist the Holy Son with church affairs—had silently gained control of the Pope’s personal guard, preventing him from getting close to the Pope.
After that, his pillar of support, his allies from the Tzimisce clan whom he had painstakingly won over, were slaughtered overnight by the Werewolves and Elves, with not a single survivor left.
If he remembered correctly, that Grace had also been involved in the Tzimisce clan affair. A dark cloud settled over Gabriel’s face, his eyes gloomy. He should have secretly dealt with her the first time he heard of her.
How could someone who not only escaped from Cambecus but even managed to turn the tables and kill him be anything but a threat? Gabriel was now kicking himself with regret.
A sudden noise at the door interrupted his thoughts. Gabriel looked up, displeased, and commanded coldly, “Come in.”
His attendant priest entered apprehensively, his head bowed, not daring to look at Gabriel’s expression.
Gabriel raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose and asked in a low voice, “Where is Abel? Didn’t I tell him to come see me?”
The attendant priest swallowed nervously and answered cautiously, “…Bi-Bishop Abel… we don’t know where he’s gone.”
Gabriel’s hand froze for a moment, then clenched into a fist and slammed down on the table. Nothing was going right.
After venting his frustration, Gabriel leaned back in his chair, slowly regaining his composure and reason. Grace… was she truly missing or not?
If only she were dead, Gabriel thought, a cold, sinister smile touching his lips. Then he would have a chance to take back the Holy See.
Tang Qiu, the target of Gabriel’s curses, was not only not dead but had, in fact, almost fully recovered.
She stood in a small garden, leisurely trimming some overgrown branches with a pair of shears. A form-fitting white robe outlined her delicate figure, and her long golden hair hung smoothly down her back, the ends curling up slightly at her waist.
The warm sunlight felt pleasant, putting Tang Qiu in a wonderful mood. She glanced up at the second-floor bedroom window, her sky-blue eyes filled with a deep smile, and said softly, “Are you sure you don’t want to come out and enjoy the sun, Lucille?”
The window remained tightly shut, without any sign of movement. Tang Qiu shook her head with a helpless smile and turned back to her pruning. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, and a soft body pressed against her back.
Lucille buried her head in Tang Qiu’s back, her cool voice sounding a bit muffled. “…I hate the sun.”
Tang Qiu set the shears aside and tried to turn around in Lucille’s embrace, but she was held too tightly to move. Ever since Lucille had ascended to the second generation, Tang Qiu no longer had the advantage in strength.
She placed her hands over Lucille’s arms and teased with a smile, “I don’t think you hate the sun. I think you just want to stay in the bedroom.”
Lucille didn’t speak, but the silent tightening of her arms was an admission. She lifted her head, moving slightly closer to Tang Qiu’s neck to inhale her scent.
The breath on her neck tickled Tang Qiu. She turned her head to look at Lucille’s profile, her gaze as gentle as water. “Are you hungry?”
Lucille hadn’t fed at all during the days Tang Qiu had been recovering.
Lucille rested her forehead on Tang Qiu’s shoulder and said in a low voice, “…Not hungry.”
Her arms loosened slightly, and her palm came to rest on Tang Qiu’s waist, where the Blood Demon’s long spear had pierced through. Although it was no longer bleeding and the wound had healed, the scar that remained was a constant reminder to Lucille of how severe the injury had been.
With a werewolf’s self-healing ability combined with the Holy See’s healing arts, an ordinary wound wouldn’t leave a scar. But the Blood Demon’s weapon was no ordinary weapon, and that scar would remain with Tang Qiu for some time.
Tang Qiu noticed Lucille’s movement. She reached out, took her wrist, and gave it a reassuring squeeze, trying to get her to not dwell on it. “My wound has already healed.”
She paused, then deliberately tilted her head and leaned close to Lucille’s ear, saying in a suggestive tone, “Would you like to come and check?”
Lucille paused, meeting Tang Qiu’s gaze. Seeing the teasing look in her eyes, she was silent for a moment before shaking her head. “No.”
Tang Qiu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She took Lucille’s hand and pressed it against her own waist, moving it around. “My wound is really healed.”
Lucille held Tang Qiu’s restless hand still and said flatly, “I don’t believe you.”
Tang Qiu: “…”
Lucille watched Tang Qiu’s expression, the corners of her lips lifting slightly before quickly settling again. She raised a hand to touch Tang Qiu’s somewhat dry lips, then turned her around, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth.
Tang Qiu blocked Lucille with the back of her hand. Meeting her questioning gaze, she said with a half-smile, “Don’t kiss me. The wound hasn’t healed yet.”
This time, Lucille truly smiled, the icy expression she usually wore softening a few degrees. She gently pulled Tang Qiu’s hand away and kissed her lips again. The kiss was gentle and lingering. Sunlight spilled over Lucille, and perhaps influenced by the person in her arms, even her back seemed to radiate a hint of warmth.
When the kiss ended, Lucille released Tang Qiu. Her dark red eyes were fixed on her, and her palm caressed Tang Qiu’s waist as if she were considering whether to take back her earlier answer and lead Tang Qiu back to the bedroom for a thorough “examination.”
But before she could come to a decision, Tang Qiu had already pushed her away. Straightening her slightly disheveled clothes, she said with a smile, “I’ve rested long enough. It’s time for me to return to the Holy See.”
Her mind still wandering, Lucille frowned at her words and was about to say something when a slender, fair finger pressed against her lips, silencing her protest.
Tang Qiu leaned closer to Lucille, her eyes brimming with a teasing smile. “No more mentioning my wound.”
Lucille looked at her in silence. They held each other’s gaze in that position for a while before Lucille finally relented, though she still made a demand. “…You have to let me stay by your side.”
Previously, when they were in the Holy Nation, Lucille had detested the dense aura of light there and had spent most of her time waiting for Tang Qiu in a nearby city.
But Tang Qiu’s injury this time had truly frightened Lucille. She didn’t dare let her out of her sight again.
There weren’t many people on the entire Statu Continent who could harm Tang Qiu now, but she knew Lucille was worried about her, so she nodded obediently and promised earnestly, “Alright.”
This person was worried about her, so what reason did she have not to indulge her?
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