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SAINTESS [Chapter 50: Divine power will no longer care about you]
🕑 Added 2025-10-01 12:54:07 +0000 UTC‘This... where the hell had he been thrown into now??’
Winnie was dizzy, mumbling incoherently, not even knowing what he was babbling about, probably not even aware himself.
Then, he felt the back of his head pressed against something soft and tender, a cold, orchid-like fragrance drifting into his nostrils, followed by a warm stream being poured into his mouth. Vaguely, he heard Isatia saying something to him.
‘Heaven... was it daytime again??’
Soon, regaining a bit of clarity, Winnie shielded his eyes from the glaring light above and tried to sit up. But he had been seriously injured; Even after being given a healing potion, recovery wasn't that fast.
Since all the vitality potions had already been consumed by Isatia, she had given a healing potion to Winnie, gradually mending his wounds and improving his condition. Still, his stamina was completely drained, he couldn't even straighten his back.
Yet, he could see Isatia standing up, confronting the Mars Royal Guards and King Cantarius of Mars, who had completely surrounded them.
She... she can stand up now??
Winnie was puzzled. Previously, Isatia had been so weak she could barely move her elbows, how could she be standing now??
He quickly recalled the Eagle Claw Crown Gem he had retrieved from the pendant of the crown and handed over to her. Now, he couldn't see that uniquely shaped gem in her hands.
Was it the gem's effect? That must have been Isatia's trump card, after all, as the imperial princess of Tyrell, how could she not carry some valuable treasures on her??
Still, it seemed the gem could only be used once, and once used, it was gone. Its potential side effects were still unknown. The fact that Isatia had been reluctant to use it until the critical moment suggested it wasn't merely a one-time-use item, there was likely some severe consequence involved.
Well, even though his mana reserves weren't fully depleted, with his stamina exhausted, he could only reluctantly retreat to the spectator's seat and entrust everything to Isatia.
Strange as it was, the scene unfolding before him was rather peculiar, King Cantarius of Mars, long deceased, facing off against the future Empress of Tyrell. And since Isatia also carried the bloodline of Carillian, one could roughly say it was King of Mars versus Empress of Carillian.
A clash between the old and new dominant powers of the continent.
However,
For some reason, looking at Isatia's back and recalling her earlier promise to safely return him, Winnie felt an inexplicable unease.
He had a nagging feeling that the Eagle Claw Gem's effects were far from simple.
“I see. That explains it,” Cantarius said after a long stare at Isatia, shaking his head with an odd expression.
“What an honor it is to meet such a young Empress.”
Huh??
Winnie stared at Cantarius in shock. He was certain Isatia hadn't revealed her royal identity, how did he know?
"I sensed it faintly earlier. I can feel it from you, you are also a monarch," Cantarius said, his gaze fixed on Isatia with absolute certainty. His eyes, which previously held nothing but disdain and the amusement of observing a curious toy, now scrutinized her with a measured, assessed look.
“Fascinating. To have so much powerful magic technology, your nation must be prosperous and powerful, a true great power,” Cantarius slightly raised his chin.
In this standoff, he sensed the noble aura emanating from the short, black-haired girl before him, and the innate temperament of someone born to rule, only a true sovereign possessed such presence.
The calm and commanding gaze in those violet eyes, only a monarch could possess such poise and confidence. Thus, regardless of appearance, he recognized the girl before him as a ruler who commanded a realm, just as he did.
“So that's how it is. No wonder I found your eyes so intriguing. We... are of the same kind,” Cantarius laughed loudly.
“The same kind?” Isatia lifted her gaze, glancing at Cantarius without speaking.
Yet, her eyes conveyed her meaning clearly, a fleeting glance that seemed indifferent, dismissive, and utterly uninterested.
“Oh? Is that not true? You are a great queen, and I am King of Mars. Are we not of the same kind??” Cantarius stopped laughing. “Only we can truly understand each other.”
“An ancient king buried in the grave, you're something I've come to understand well enough through those scrolls. But you, you don't know me at all. Not even a bit,” Isatia said, glancing at the dusty papyrus scrolls on the ground.
"Kings come in three types. One is mediocre. One makes contributions surpassing all other kings of his nation throughout history. And last, his death's impact outweighs his entire life's achievements."
“Clearly, you belong to the latter,” Isatia stated, word by word.
“Oh? Young monarch, you're quite arrogant. I spent my life waging wars, expanding territories, and conquering countless foreign tribes. Can this really be reduced to only the third type in your words??” Cantarius arched an eyebrow.
“You never fulfilled a king's duties, only enjoyed a king's rights. You waged wars on all fronts, yet never learned to govern. You turned every captured foreigner and even your own people who lost their property due to war into slaves.”
“In other words, you're not a king. You're just a barbarian pathologically obsessed with war and conquest, possessing nothing but brute force. It is exactly because of this that you planted the seeds of Mars' eventual downfall.”
“Cantarius, your kingdom was built upon the blood and tears of countless people. One day, the accumulated burdens became too great, and it collapsed.”
Isatia gazed meaningfully at Cantarius. “In my eyes, you're not a king, you're merely a savage wielding power over life and death.”
“Hah! How utterly arrogant! That I achieved eternity after death, does this not prove Heaven itself approved of my deeds??” Cantarius spread his arms wide.
“Look! This radiant miracle! The divine legacy I forged for myself! My kingdom and I will exist eternally, forever and ever, unlike your nation, which will only add a few lines to history.”
“Someone trapped at the bottom of a well naturally doesn't know that the outside world has long forgotten them,” Isatia replied calmly. “You can't even leave a mark in history books, you must be painfully sought after, barely leaving behind any traces.”
“Do you know how much time and effort I spent finding remnants of your civilization? I can't even estimate whether what I gained was worth the cost I incurred.”
“Foreign queen, what are you talking about??” Cantarius lowered his tone.
“An uncivilized barbarian without order, you don't know how deeply your subjects hate you, nor how many families you've torn apart. You're utterly unworthy of being a king. By Tyrell Imperial law, you'd at most be recognized as a tribal chieftain of savages. That's about it.” Isatia stood straight, arms crossed, letting the wind lift her black hair.
Facing the pressure and aura released by Cantarius, she showed no fear. Although their heights differed greatly, she seemed to tower over him.
“So, foreign queen, do you wish to prove you're superior to me??” Cantarius sneezed. “Calling us equals is flattering you. You're still a mortal, how could you possibly defeat me, who has ascended to divine status??”
“I now stand beside the gods, possessing an undying body. Not even death can take me away.”
“I fear no death. What about you??” Cantarius countered. “If I show no mercy, death will take you and your guard instantly!”
“If you beg me now, pledge to serve me henceforth, I might even let you taste the sensation of immortality.”
“Undying body? Immortality?” Upon hearing this, Isatia's lips curled into a slight smile. “No thanks. Only cowards without courage, unable to accept reality and achieve nothing, would willingly remain as immortal corpses, clinging desperately to this world.”
“As a transcendent being, a few hundred years is neither too long nor too short, perfectly adequate for a human. When the time comes, one should depart. Those who stubbornly cling on, prolonging their existence, are only madmen and scoundrels with excessive obsessions. What wouldn't such corpses dare to do just to survive??”
“They should be left to rot, only bring calamity to the world.”
“Foreign queen, you speak with such righteousness, look down on me so much, yet you're helpless against me who has already achieved eternity,” Cantarius said coldly.
“The eternity you speak of, is it this illustration, self-deceiving world at the bottom of a well??” Isatia mocked. “May I then assume your pride doesn't come from your heart, but from your birthright as king, your magical talent, and this lid that grants you 'immortality'??”
“If you lost it, would you still truly fear no death?”
As she spoke, Isatia closed her eyes. From her as the center, a deep purple sphere crackling with lightning rapidly expanding, instantly enveloping all the Mars Guards present, including Cantarius himself.
It happened too fast, most didn't even react.
Winnie did. He suddenly felt the space around him had changed, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly how. Looking around, they still seemed to be in the arena of the Mars Palace.
Turning his gaze back to Isatia, Winnie noticed a crown atop her head, a Tyrell Imperial crown made of purple-gold, studded with multicolored gems. When she opened her eyes again, her beautiful eyes seemed to flicker with lightning.
At this moment, she was like an empress ascending the throne, her gaze sweeping the world, her aura transcendent, every movement exuding the noble grace unique to a sovereign.
Yet, entirely opposite to Cantarius.
“Oh? Is this your soul armament?” Cantarius wasn't particularly impressed, seeing only that the black-haired girl had conjured a crown of unfamiliar style. “An interesting Soul armament, quite pretty.”
Implying it was all show, no substance.
“Eliminate them,” Isatia ignored Cantarius, lifted her chin, and casually said.
“Huh? Hahaha! Foreign queen, are you mistaken? This is my domain, my kingdom, my territory, not your nation. Issuing habit listening orders won't make anyone,” Cantarius mocked.
“Clack, clack...” At that moment, Cantarius faintly heard hurried footsteps echoing from the palace corridor behind him.
“What is it?” Cantarius said impatiently. “Didn't I order all soldiers to assemble here? Why are there still stragglers??”
“I'll see who these late bastards are, and should be properly tortured later!”
But as the sounds from all directions drew closer, Cantarius gradually realized something was wrong.
No, why are there hoofbeats??
His kingdom rarely uses cavalry, mostly infantry and mages?!
What's going on??
The moment he turned around, a group of knights riding armored high-steeds, clad in Tyrell Imperial armor, charged into the arena from all directions, wielding lances like moving walls of steel.
The Mars Guards, realizing these weren't their allies, were shocked, yet before they could resist, they were already impaled and thrown back.
Their golden armor was as fragile as paper against the knights' imperial heavy cavalry lances. Many lances even had enchantments, those struck were instantly carbonized.
The knights didn't come from one direction, but poured in from all around. After several charges, they had pierced through the Mars Guards' formation multiple times, leaving them in complete disarray.
“What is this thing?!” Cantarius stared in shock. Foreign cavalry, with completely unfamiliar armor and style, appears here, this was beyond his expectations.
But he quickly regained his composure.
No matter, his soldiers could resurrect. These were elite guards who had fought countless battles with him. They were merely caught off guard. As long as they could revive infinitely, any attack was useless.
Yet, after waiting a long time, not a single one of his guards was revived.
The face beneath his golden lion mask twisted completely.
“What have you done in my palace?!” Cantarius roared in accusation.
“Barbarian King, are you sure this is still your palace?” Isatia asked coldly. “Why don't you step outside and see where you are.”
“This?? How could this not be my palace??” Cantarius hesitated.
He had lived here his entire life, every detail was familiar. He knew without a doubt this was his palace!
“This is my palace, no mistake!”
“Is it?” Isatia regards Cantarius with indifference. “Perhaps it was before. But now, it has already been seized and taken over by the Tyrell Empire, by the Lanteville family.”
“Go outside. You'll find your kingdom has disappeared. Before you will be unfamiliar buildings, the palaces and fortresses of the Tyrell Empire. Moreover, there are many foreign city-states, just like your palace, captured and claimed by successive heads of the Lanteville family and emperors of Tyrell throughout history.” Isatia explained calmly.
“You... you? What did you do??”
"Barbarian King, your palace has been built in my Holy Favor," Isatia stated. "I used your palace's arena as the entrance to open the Holy Favor," Isatia added, noticing Cantarius seemed distracted.
"Do not expect your soldiers to rise again. This is no dungeon realm forged by theocracy. Moments ago, you were dragged into my ‘Domain’.”
"The divine power will no longer favor you.”
