Previously, Grand Duke Veronica had told her that the significance of this competition was immense.
As long as you could become the final victor, you would be allowed to take anything from the Holy City as you wished—a promise personally made by the Holy Throne.
It was said to be a free choice, but in reality, truly important things would never appear before you.
What you could choose were only those items that had been found or offered by various nations across the continent over the years.
However, later, Luo Xiya keenly realized that the real value of the reward lay in the words ‘personally promised by the Holy Throne.’
This made her suddenly aware that now might be the only opportunity in her life—a chance to negotiate equally with the Holy Throne under the premise of reason.
Roman’s discovery had already become an established fact, and now she had to use the chips in her hand to struggle for some leverage.
Because at least now, after stating such terms, she wouldn’t be immediately slapped to death by Sylvia…
After saying this, Luo Xiya appeared calm and composed on the surface, but inside, her heart was pounding wildly.
Sylvia’s eyes were a noble violet.
Just being looked at by her with that faint expression made one unconsciously feel a sense of pressure.
She walked to Luo Xiya’s side and mercilessly pulled Roman back from his grasp.
Roman frowned silently but quietly freed himself from Sylvia’s hand.
This left Sylvia dazed for a few seconds.
Tsk…
She stared at the two who stood side by side, facing her together.
Did they see her as some grand villain?
“Roman, is this your wish as well?”
Sylvia asked softly.
The warmth in his palm continued to give him courage, and Roman nodded without hesitation.
Luo Xiya, meanwhile, stared unflinchingly at Sylvia with the eyes she usually reserved for thieves and bandits.
“Unfortunately, you said this a bit too late.”
Sylvia ignored Luo Xiya’s hostility, speaking in a tone that stated the facts.
“Too late?”
“That’s right.”
This time, Sylvia didn’t even seek Roman’s agreement—she simply pulled him into her grasp instantly.
Luo Xiya instinctively wanted to step forward, but after just a few steps, she felt her hair stand on end.
Sylvia’s Space Blade hung soundlessly and invisibly on either side of her.
If she dared act rashly, it seemed the other would show no mercy.
Sylvia then used her other hand to hold Milis.
The two silver-haired kittens held by Sylvia’s hands both looked up at her emotionless profile in confusion.
What happened next left everyone present speechless with shock.
Sylvia held Roman and Milis’s hands, guided them to clasp each other, and even gently helped their fingers interlock.
“Because He not only wanted me to find Roman, but also hoped that these two children could form a sufficiently close bond, rather than being divided, opposed, and mutually exhausted.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to keep my promise, but because Roman isn’t my possession. He is a treasure the Lord left for this world.”
Her cool lips softly spoke these words, and she added another blow.
“What I mean is, by the time you said this, there was no longer a place beside Roman for you.”
Roman’s lips trembled as he shook off Milis’s hand.
“Are you lying to me?”
He stared at Sylvia, questioning coldly.
Everyone present was stunned speechless by Roman’s boldness.
Was this something that could even be said?
“Those deep, emotional words of yours—were they just your own self-satisfaction?”
Luo Xiya finally disregarded the threats on either side, taking a swift step to stand before Roman.
So daring…
Luo Xiya couldn’t believe that the soft and gentle Roman would dare say such insolent words to the Holy Throne—far more brazen than her own veiled provocations.
Sylvia looked at the two, pressed her hand to her forehead, and for a moment, felt a severe headache.
“Are you sure you want to negotiate with me?”
She finally warned Luo Xiya.
“Are you… still willing to negotiate with me?”
Luo Xiya spread her arms to shield Roman behind her, her expression uncertain.
“Of course. I just realized, since Roman is now the Holy Child, even I must respect his autonomy.”
Sylvia stared at Luo Xiya, then continued.
“How about this—if you can reach the Holy Domain within three years, I’ll agree to your terms. How about it?”
“As for now, Roman will return first. He must remain as the Saintess’s companion, but only temporarily. Are you satisfied now?”
Three years…
Luo Xiya hesitated.
However, Roman behind her directly hugged her, and the warmth of his embrace instantly filled her with endless hope and strength.
“I accept.”
***
Milis once again doubted whether she was dreaming.
Holding Roman’s warm, smooth, jade-like hand—people say the fingers connect to the heart.
Now, feeling her inner flutter, she was starting to believe it.
She listened to Sylvia’s words in a daze, and it took a long time for her to understand the true meaning behind the Holy Throne’s statement.
Her long eyelashes trembled slightly, and Milis cast a subtle sidelong glance at Roman.
Looking at his graceful profile, at eyes similar to hers in their imperfection, the turmoil in her heart slowly overshadowed the bitterness of defeat.
She recalled her first encounter with Roman, trying to remember what it was about him that had drawn her in.
Now, it seemed more like an affinity between similar beings—the same silver hair, the same flawed eyes.
The first time she saw Roman, she had inevitably felt a stirring.
Through further interaction, her interest only grew.
Although they looked similar, their personalities were worlds apart.
This was why, when she saw Luo Xiya hug Roman affectionately before her, her sense of distaste only deepened.
She had once told Luo Xiya that the more you fear something, no matter how unlikely it is to happen, the more certain it becomes.
Now, it seemed that even things that should have been impossible, no matter how inconceivable, would inevitably come to pass.
She had indeed been defeated by Luo Xiya, who triumphed with weakness over strength.
Yet Roman was still taken back to the Holy City, became the Holy Child, and even—as she had suspected…
Milis squeezed Roman’s hand, and with a gentle tug, brought him closer.
Their shoulders touched, and Milis nearly forgot the sting of her defeat that day.
***
“Life.”
A woman clad in black armor thought silently.
The regrowth of lost limbs wasn’t proof of much—there were at least ten in the Holy See capable of such a feat.
But that girl’s arm had been destroyed by Judgement…
Milis’s Holy Flame possessed laws akin to causality; wounds from it were not merely burns, but deep, invasive injuries.
It was like her own ‘Devouring’—at first, she only wanted to eat the flesh of extraordinary beings, but as she grew and evolved, it turned into devouring their blood, magic, and even laws.
This child’s magic could even resist the erosion of Judgement, so perhaps the Holy Throne hadn’t lied.
Looking around, there was no one left who dared object or oppose.
The Holy Throne’s actions were as flawless as ever…
To combine authority with kindness, to retain the initiative while upholding legitimacy, always standing atop both moral and martial high ground to subdue others.
In this light, the two children’s mutual defeat had likely been within her expectations, not the surprise others imagined.
By healing on the spot and shaping perception, the Holy Child was cast as a harmless ‘priest,’ devoid of threat, then wed to the Saintess Highness, preventing internal strife and soothing the nobles.
A boy who might have incited chaos across the continent had, in a short time, become widely and unquestioningly accepted.
‘Life…’
Beneath her mask, she couldn’t help but lick her lips.
Possessing the ‘Devouring Holy Mark’ always made her cravings flare.
She removed her mask, lifting her elegant chin and swan-like pale neck.
A head of blood-red, rose-like wavy hair tumbled free, cascading over her shoulders as it settled.
Only then could she fully take in the Holy Child’s features.
She forcibly suppressed the longing in her gaze—if the Holy Throne noticed, it would be disastrous.
Her serpent-like, concealed stare traced Roman beside Milis from head to toe, making her itch with desire, her mouth watering.
His appearance, his aura, the scent he emitted—everything was so enticing that her magic began to boil inside her.
Still just a boy.
She thought.
And then added,
A delicious boy.
As she indulged her fantasies, Sylvia glanced at her.
Instantly, a chill ran through her.
She pretended to lower her head to clean her mask, not daring to meet Sylvia’s gaze.
She tucked her red hair away and put the mask back on, transforming once more into the fearsome Scarlet Rose.
Maria cast one final look at Roman, then buried her thoughts and ceased her probing.